Many and various are the ways of man, and while it is impossible to say that some societies or subcultures are better than others, yet it is a fact that no society can successfully eradicate man's basic instincts.
This book is fictional, but it is designed to show just what can happen when a certain subculture, in this case the Church, attempts to outlaw human sexuality. It is a difficult task, but it is possible, for a time anyway, as the case of Sister Anne shows.
But the sexual urge is strong, and if it is repressed in one place, it will come out in another. The results can be frequently disastrous.
Sadism can result, leading to many instances of cruelty. As it is all too often just these repressed, sadistic individuals who are in charge of children and young people, people of an impressionable age, we can see that many disasters can result, disasters which can scar the lives of the young people forever.
The Church does many fine things, but a knowledge of what can happen when certain members of it are able to develop a sadistic streak, and are able to put this into practice, are illustrated in a graphic manner in this novel.
It is the hope of the publisher that adult members of the reading public will learn from it, and will then engage in appropriate social action to stop this cruelty.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Sister Anne smiled as she watched the boys play baseball. It always gave her great pleasure to see them have fun, to engage in healthy, body building sport, sport which enobled the mind and the soul as well, developing team spirit, cooperation, the will to succeed, and other virtues too numerous to mention.
"Come on! Show them where you live!" Little Tommy called out to Ed, who swung the bat standing hunched over the plate, glaring at the pitcher. Tommy was at second, waiting to run to third.
"Where you live!" The words echoed as a haunting refrain through Sister Anne's mind. "Where you live!" How poignant and how sad! For all of these boys, all eighteen of them, and the spectators as well, diverse boys they were, from many different backgrounds and nationalities, but they all shared one thing in common, and that was where they lived. They all lived at Saint Mary's Orphanage in the city of Cool Valley in the State of Illinois.
Ed swung and the ball whistled past him, slamming into the catcher's mitt with a hard plop, as though sinking into a deep pool. The sound gave Sister Anne a start, and a peculiar sensation, one which she had been feeling more and more lately, began to percolate up from that region between her legs, that particular region which she tried not to think about. But the harder she tried, the more it entered her mind, as though by forcing it out she only welcomed it in.
Think of something else! This advice the Mother Superior had given her, and it was obvious, the right thing to do. Spend less time alone, get involved, get out, work with the children more. Yes! That was the right thing to do. Whenever evil thoughts started to enter the consciousness it was only because there was a void there which permitted them to enter. Eliminate that void!
Sister Anne concentrated on the game, trying to eliminate the evil feelings. She watched Ed, as he swung the bat, waiting for the next pitch. It was easy to watch Ed. Sister Anne liked him a lot. She taught him geography, and he was a smart boy, willing and in fact eager to learn. He was also very handsome. Although only fourteen years old, he already appeared to be quite a young man. His dark hair and serious features, complexion slightly swarthy, nose a little too long perhaps, but that, she had been told, was the sign of intelligence. It was also the sign of passion-a big dick. No! Where had that thought come from? Sister Anne never thought about such things. The devil must have sent it! Eliminate such thoughts. Watch the game.
"No hitter! No hitter!" They yelled, but Ed only gripped the bat harder and concentrated the more. It was two balls. Two strikes. One man on. Two outs. Top of the eighth.
Sister Anne's eyes watched him closely, and saw his muscles ripple as the horsehair ball crossed the plate and he swung.
She saw the sweat fly off his brow. She heard the bat connect with the speeding ball, so fast. It cracked, a loud knock. She heard the excitement of the crowd, but it seemed to roar like Yankee Stadium as the ball sailed high into the air, but not too high, not too high to interfere with its distance, for it kept traveling and traveling, and was still in the air, somewhere, flying like a bird, as Tommy rounded third and headed home. He ran happily across the plate and Ed followed and Sister Anne found herself more excited by this exciting turn of events in the game than she could have possibly imagined. Yes! It was working! Sports was good, sports was great, sports was an ideal way to keep her mind off evil, unwanted thoughts. The excitement seized her as the crowd roared, and then she began to shake as heat zoomed up from between her legs and invaded her whole body and suddenly Sister Anne felt wet down there, a strange sensation, and her whole body seemed to ripple and undulate with pleasure, and she almost fell down, so good did it feel. Yes! Sports was great!
She looked up, barely able to stand. Something had happened, something terrible. The roar of the crowd had ceased. She looked over to home plate and there she saw Ed, lying in a pool of his own blood. This was terrible! Sister Anne raced over to the scene of the tragedy.
"He spiked him! He spiked him sister! I saw it! He did it on purpose!"
"Did not! Did not!"
Sister Anne could see that another fight was brewing, but that was not her concern. The brother would take care of that, Brother Robert, who had been serving as the umpire. But Ed looked to be in a bad way, blood dripping from a wound on the side of his head. Had he been kicked in the head? How horrible! Sister Anne knew that she must get him to the nurse right away.
"Can you stand up Eddie? Can you walk?" She said, bending down over him and trying to help him up. She was afraid that if he bled too much it might be serious, the best thing was to get him to the nurse right away. Maybe he would need stitches.
"Sure. I'm not hurt too bad. It's nothing," Ed said, bravely, but she could tell that he was dizzy, that he was hurt perhaps worse than he knew.
"Come and lean on my shoulder. That's the way Eddie. Lean on me, you're hurt. Yes, that's the way. Come on, I'll take you to the nurse."
"Did not!"
"You did!"
"Did not!"
"Did!"
The two boys were almost at blows, Brother Robert rather ineffectually trying to separate them. But Sister Anne could not help. She had to get the injured boy to the infirmary so, his blood dripping onto her shoulder, this young angel of mercy led him away from the scene of brutality and incipient battle.
Sister Anne was so taken up by this tragedy, by the fear for the boy's welfare, that she entirely forgot about the intense and rather new sensation which had gripped her so strongly only a few moments before, a sensation which she would have known, had she thought about it, was closely akin to those forbidden sensations, those thoughts and feelings of sexuality.
She was young and quite innocent. A few slight incidents, some years previously, committed upon her unwilling, although not unresponding body by an elder uncle, had resulted in her parents committing her to education by the nuns, with the predictable result that Sister Anne grew up prim and strict and very religious, inculcated with the high ideals concerning purity and doing God's will, with the further and equally natural result that she too became a nun.
A good nun she was, much loved by all the children in the orphanage, and taking much pride in her work, confident that she was faithfully doing God's bidding, and content to do so for the rest of her life, undisturbed by sensual, selfish desires. Undisturbed, that is, until recently. For the sexual impulses of a young and healthy girl can only be throttled for so long until they push their way to the surface, threatening to explode. And now Sister Anne felt them. How she felt them!
She felt Ed's body pressing against hers as she led him across the grassy field, and even as she led him through the cool, dank corridors of the school leading to the infirmary. He breathed heavily, with pain perhaps, or perhaps as an effort to banish the pain, like a young martyr, she thought, and really admired his forbearance. His strong muscles pressed against her, and she could feel her skin feel warm there beneath her dark habit. She could smell his sweat, stirred up by the excitement of the game, by the competition and by the physical exertion, and it seemed to tickle her deep within her nostrils, exciting her.
Sister Anne tried not to think dirty thoughts, tried not to desire the boy. But he was such a fine boy in every way, on the playing field, in class, and in his general behavior, praying, causing no trouble, breaking rules, yes, but not maliciously, only doing so with boyish high spirits. This she liked, for it showed that he was a real person.
"Here we are, Eddie, now Sister Ellen will fix you up." Sister Anne said this hopefully. Sister Ellen was the nurse, and had a fair facility for dealing with minor abrasions and cuts, but Sister Anne well knew that if stitches were needed, or a tetanus shot, that they would live to call up old Doctor McCarthy who lived about a mile away. He was a retired physician who took on most of the medical chores for the orphanage, and was frequently called for in such cases.
The infirmary was empty. "Sit here, Eddie and I'll see where Sister Ellen is."
Ed watched Sister Anne glide away in search of the nurse. What a hunk of flesh, he thought. Must be nice, there under that habit.
Sister Anne returned a few seconds later. "No one's here," she said, puzzled, for there was supposed to be a nurse on duty there all day. "Well, I'll do it," she concluded.
She washed Ed's face with warm water and soap, cleaning the wound, and was highly gratified to note that the wound was not deep. The blood and the dirt had combined to make it appear far worse than it was. She noticed that Ed's shirt was torn.
"Are you hurt here?" she asked, touching the side of his body.
"Yes. I'm cut," he said, feeling the pleasure of the woman's soft, feminine hand pressing against him. He felt his cock begin to rise. He had dreamed of Sister Anne's body many times, of how round it was, rounder by far than any of the other attractive nuns, without in the least being fat and chubby, just a real fine figure of a woman visible even under the effective disguise of her unbecoming habit. He knew that she would look just beautiful without it on, and had dreamed many times of how she would look naked, so that now as Ed looked upon her, he could see her, naked as the day she was born, her firm high tits pointing straight at his mouth, her fine ass cheeks pulsating in the bright light of the infirmary, her flat belly, her mound of pubic hair, her juicy cunt! His cock pulsated too, ready for action, as Sister Anne carefully, like a surgeon, removed his shirt and began to wash the wound on his side, just above his waist.
"Ooooh! It hurts!" he said, and it did, but he was experiencing the pleasure more than the pain, for her hands were soft and her caresses felt just fine.
Ed's head began to swim with the lust he was feeling. He was tempted to grab her hand and pull it right down to his cock. He wondered what she would do.
Sister Anne kept on caressing the side of Ed's body even after the wound was fully cleaned. It, too, was but a slight wound just barely bleeding, just a deep scrape really. But her hands could not remove themselves from his body. It was a young body but was already hard as a grown man's and as Sister Anne touched it she felt the feeling grow within her, the feeling of lust and of desire, and this time such feelings were not able to be subliminated, for the body was just too close, too nude, to be ignored. Sister Anne's hand began to travel to new places, touched his chest, his belly, traveled down, lower, lower. Her eyes attached themselves to his crotch, where she noticed a bulge in his pants, and she knew that this bulge indicated desire on his part as well.
"Oh," she moaned in a low tone, a tone of surrender, as her fingers closed around the bulge.
"Oh, yeah!" Ed moaned in a voice equally low, not wanting to startle the nun out of her apparent reverie for fear of scaring her off. It felt just fine, what she was doing to him, especially as her grip tightened on his cock and she began to stroke it up and down.
Sister Anne no longer knew what she was doing. It was as if her mind had dissassociated herself from her body and she now felt herself watching, looking on as though it were somebody else doing these things, things which she had wanted to do for so long.
But Ed could no longer bear to have her caress his prick without having her really caress his prick, so at the risk of startling the nun into full consciousness of the sin which she was committing, he reached down, unzipped his fly, and pulled his prick out, so that it stood up, naked and proud, staring right at the Sister's face.
Her eyes regarded it hungrily. It was pink and seemed to glow and was even bigger than she had imagined. For a young boy to have such a huge dick was something she had not thought possible. Not that it was in actual fact all that huge, but to Sister Anne, who knew very little of such things, it seemed to be truly monstrous.
Her hand seized it again, and felt this time its fleshy warmth, so delicious against the skin of her hand. She rubbed it up and down, feeling it slide delightfully through her fingers, which provided in turn a friction that made his prick jump and quiver with new found life.
Emboldened by her caresses, Ed reached out for the nun. His hand sought for her tits, those fine tits which he had thought about so often. He plunged his fingers against the nun's chest, seeking, and he felt the soft resiliency of her breasts beneath his grasp, bouncing, moving, soft and squishy.
Somehow, the feeling of his hands against her breasts woke Sister Anne to the consciousness of sin faster than stroking his prick, perhaps because the violation of her own body, which all women, not just nuns, are taught to protect, was taking place.
In any case, she reacted negatively, pushing his hand away.
"Stop that!" she protested, a trifle shrilly. "What are you doing? Stop that!"
At the same instant, Sister Anne felt his prick still clutched so firmly between her fingers, and she let it go. But the prick did not drop down. Excited, it bobbed about in the air, tall and stiff as the school flagpole.
But Ed didn't want to stop, he was so excited. He reached for her again, this time bringing his face close to Sister Anne's and trying to kiss her. His young body hungered all over for her tender sexual embrace.
"No! No! Stop!" she cried, fighting him off, pushing him off. Without knowing it, Sister Anne was behaving just like any-teenage flirt, or tease would be a better, albeit more brutal term. Ed knew this, and he behaved precisely as he would in such a situation, pressing his point.
"But Sister Anne, I want you so much! And I know you want me! Please! Just a little kiss!"
His strong young arms circled her and drew her to him and his lips sought her lips, coming closer, closer, so that she could feel his breath upon her face. She tried to fight him off but she did not possess the strength, neither physically nor spiritually, for she, too, wanted him, as much-no-even more, than he wanted her, for he was a man!
He opened his mouth wide and their lips met. Her mouth responded, instinctively, for she had never been kissed this way before, or at least not since childhood, with her uncle, but that was just a bad, fading memory.
Her lips opened beneath his, which touched, pressed; and his tongue probed, forcing its way into her mouth, kissing her deeply and with intense hot passion, his tongue exploring all over her mouth, touching her teeth, her upper palate, her tongue, making her tongue respond, wrapping itself around her, twining together like snakes.
And all the while Ed's hands were exploring as well, fondling her firm young breasts, squeezing them, touching them as hard and forcefully as he could, without hurting her, feeling her flimsy bra give way beneath his probing fingers, lifting it up off her tits so that they bounced free, free to move underneath her flowing habit, free to fill up his cupped palms, free to excite him.
Ed pressed tightly against her, his long, stiff prick digging its way into her belly, pressing ever onward, feeling the heat rise up from her cunt, rise up like an aroma, like a mating call, calling him forward, calling him to come inside.
It was as though Sister Anne had entered a kind of dream, as if she had stepped right out of the real world. Her hands touched Ed all over, touched his hair, his back, his hard body. The feelings which he was exciting in her were greater than any she had ever felt. It was as if everything, her whole life, had been just a prelude, leading up to this moment.
Ed's hands reached down, sought for her cunt, felt the heat there, the soft squishiness, the desire, touched her, fondled her. His other hand squeezed her ass. Ed marveled at how fully developed she was, a real woman, curves all over, just incredible, something to cherish and to hold. His hands squeezed her asscheeks, feeling them give beneath his hard exploring fingers. He touched her as firmly as he could, and he felt her moan silently in his grasp, as though she were afraid to voice the emotions and sensations which he could feel pulse through her, as though she was afraid of waking up, of disturbing this wonderful sexual dream.
"No," she moaned, trying to fight away from him, but Ed could tell that it was just a momentary impulse, just her conscience fighting its way bravely and with great difficulty to the surface, perhaps for the last time. Ed certainly hoped so, for Sister Anne was one woman whom he just had to possess, and soon. She had just turned him on too much, it would not be healthy for him to stop now, he had to fuck her, had to feel her soft quivering cunt slide up around his hard dick, had to drive her wild with lust and fulfillment.
Ed reached below, grabbing her habit, pulling it up, up, higher, ever higher, all the while kissing her, keeping her busy, sensually occupied, until her thighs were available, her upper thighs. And then he raised the habit up above her cunt, above her waist. His hands touched her ass, now covered only by her underwear, the dull, unsexy sort which the nuns always wore. But it didn't bother Ed, for he knew how to remove it.
It was simple: grab it hard, and yank down firmly. Voila! The panties were down, down around her thighs, pulling down more, down about her knees, more, down somewhere about Sister Anne's lovely soft calves, Ed did not know precisely where, nor did he care, for it did not matter to him. All that mattered was that her cunt was not unfettered and ready, nothing in the way of his probing, questing, joyful fingers.
Sister Anne gasped with wonder as she felt the boy's fingers touch her cunt. She had only been touched there in her dreams, and by her mother when she was very young. So this was an entirely new experience. She felt her cunt quiver with excitement as Ed's forefinger jabbed out and came into contact with her clitoris. Her head jerked forward spasmodically and her mouth opened wide, hurling out low grunts of satisfaction mingled with perturbed shock.
While Ed touched her clit with his forefinger, his thumb probed even deeper, feeling along the labia of her cunt. They were loose and juicy, open wide, ready for fingers, for a cock, for anything. The juices were flowing down and out, coming up from the depths of her cunt, lubricating her, getting her ready.
"Ohhhh," she moaned, no longer able to protest, to act the tease, able only to feel the probing fingers and to feel Ed's hot breath as it blew in spasms against her red, excited face, driving her wild.
Ed couldn't believe his good luck. Sister Anne was his! Nothing could stop him now! She was wet and getting wetter, her will was dissolved, sex was all that was on her mind. His fingers, touching her cunt, manipulating and fondling her there in her genital region, these fingers which were none too expert, were nonetheless responsible. These little fingers, five fingers, had replaced, almost instantaneously, all the dogma and religious teaching, all the thoughts of God, which had heretofore guided and directed Sister Anne's life. Five little fingers! Ed laughed silently to himself as his prick jumped wildly in the air.
His fingers were sliding in and out of her cunt without any restrictions now. Sister Anne lay back against the nurse's examining table, totally lost in a world of newly found sexual bliss, and she just let Ed do with her what he wanted. Her habit was up above her waist, and Ed had a fine, unobstructed view of her juicy, red cunt. It looked so fine! The juices oozed constantly out of it, and it was tight, feeling great around his thrusting, hungering fingers. How great it would feel around his shaft he could easily imagine, and he couldn't wait to try her out in that fashion.
"Get up here," he said, urging the Sister up onto the table, where he hoped to lay her down, climb on top, and stick it in. "Come on, it'll be more comfortable."
But these words, the first that had been spoken in several long, hot minutes of sexual play, had quite the opposite of their intended effect. For rather than persuade Sister Anne to submit to the ultimate sexual embrace, they awoke her, as a sudden snap of the fingers to a hypnotized subject, to reality, to what was happening to her body, her mind, and much more importantly to Sister Anne, to her soul.
"No!" she cried, a trifle loudly, protesting in this way against herself as well as against Ed, "Stop! This is wrong! Oh! Oh!" She was virtually whining, covered with shame at finding herself doing such things, at finding herself so excited by carnal emotions, "What's happening? How can this be?"
Sister Anne pushed the young boy's eager hands away from her body, shoved them away repeatedly for he kept on reaching back, incapable of leaving her healthy round body alone, for it attracted him as though it were a physical force like gravity. "Stop that! Stop that!"
The Sister pulled her habit down, but then she realized that her panties were still down around her ankles, preventing her from moving.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, with mounting annoyance, as though it were the devil in the room who had done this to her, rather than her own quite natural womanly desires.
Sister Anne bent down to pull up or pull off her panties, Ed could not tell which.
"Please! Don't," he said. "We weren't doing anything wrong. It's natural. All the nuns do it."
Sister Anne, having pulled her panties up onto her, looked up at Ed sharply at this last statement.
"What have you said, Ed? How can you lie like that? You are adding sin to sin."
"It's no lie. You know I never lie. They all do it." Ed insisted so strongly that Sister Anne was shocked, astounded. Perhaps he was telling the truth!
"Come on, Sister Anne! I've always liked you the best of all the Sisters, but you take it all too seriously. Don't you know that this chastity stuff, this idea of sin, is all out of date? Nobody really believes it any more. I doubt if they ever really did. Even the Mother Superior...."
"No!" she yelled. "That I cannot believe!" Sister Anne had a great deal of respect for the Mother Superior, because she reminded her of her own mother, who was so religious, so pious, so good, who had inculcated in her daughter such strong virtues and morals.
"But you like it when I touch you. It feels good, you know that, and you know you need it. How can anything that is so natural be sinful? How could God design it that way?" Ed was persuasive, but these were old arguments, and Sister Anne had encountered them before, so that her answers came out almost by rote.
"It is to test us, to tempt...."
"Bullshit! Sex is for pleasure, for man and woman to love each other. It gives them a common ground, somewhere to come together...."
As Ed said this he came to her and took Sister Anne in his young, strong arms, holding her tightly. She was so upset that she didn't know what to do, and she could not pull herself away. Her eyes looked down at the floor, but what she saw instead, protruding its way into the line of her vision, was Ed's hard cock, still standing up at full attention, and quivering, asking her for her attention.
Sister Anne gasped with a mixture of pleasure and pain as she took the cock between her fingers and stroked it, watching it move beneath the firm pressure of her fingers.
"Oh, Lord, forgive me," she moaned in a low tone, and then, impelled by some impulse which she could not understand, something half between penance for her evil thoughts and actions, and a pleasurable thing in its own right, thus one of those very actions, the Sister dropped to her knees, as though in prayer, but what she did instead was to take the prick and guide it toward her mouth.
Ed smiled with wonder and awe and anticipation of pleasure as he saw Sister Anne's mouth open wide, ready to receive his hard, horny cock. Her lips were sensuous and full and they looked great, so his cock veritably jumped up and into her mouth. He quivered all over as he felt those same soft lips close upon the head of his cock, and then he almost jumped out of his skin as he felt the nun's tongue slither out and wash across his cock head, licking it avidly and with what seemed to him to be real, incredible passion, passion which he had never expected, or at least not soo soon, from this rather inexperienced and quite frightened, also ashamed, nun, who he knew had never done anything like this before.
"Oh, that's so good," he moaned.
The Sister was certainly a novice at cocksucking, but she evidently possessed an inborn talent, and it was surely coming out now, under the stress and strain of the passion which was racing through her. Sister Anne's head was rising up and down on his cock, falling and rising, as her tongue swirled around the shaft in a manner that was most hypnotic, really driving him wild with pleasure. Her tongue touched the base of his cock and then traveled slowly all the way up, flickering out and kissing the cock in selected spots, surprising him, so that he never knew where the cock would land, adding a real element of suspense to the maneuver so it really felt better. But all the while her lips were pressing tightly about his cock, creating great friction, a fine surface for his cock to travel in and among. But what Ed liked perhaps best of all was when her tongue touched the very tip of his cock very lightly, for that was perhaps the most sensitive spot on his whole person.
Ed touched her head and caressed it through the habit, feeling her hair underneath. How he wanted to rip all of her clothing off and see her naked! But that might frighten her and cause her to stop sucking his' cock, and that was the last thing that Ed wanted, so he decided not to risk it. He just let her tongue and her lips, and her cheeks as well, do their fine work on his masculine tool.
Suddenly he heard footsteps, walking in the corridor. It must be the nurse, he thought, Sister Ellen, coming their way. Now, Sister Ellen he knew had made it with a lot of the guys, although not with him, so he knew she wouldn't be shocked to come upon this scene, although Sister Anne was known as a prude. Sister Anne, though, would certainly be upset to be found in such a position, as as she was so new to sucking and all that followed from it, Ed was afraid that it would set back her sexual development by years, and perhaps forever. So he warned her. (She was too involved in sucking his cock to notice the sound of the footsteps herself.)
"Sister Anne! Someone's coming!"
The footsteps got closer and Sister Anne kept sucking.
"Sister Anne! Someone's coming! Ahhh!" Ed yelled, as he found out indeed that someone was coming, namely himself, as his cock began to heave and spurt, and a heavy load of white creamy come began to shoot from the tip and to fill up Sister Anne's mouth.
This was something that the Sister, who had not known what to expect, really had not expected, hot come shooting hard and quickly into her, almost causing her to gag and choke. But she did the best she could do, swallowing it down, although much of the come gathered at the corners and sides of her mouth.
"Someone's coming ... coming...." Ed man aged to gasp out, as he pulled his still-pulsating and dripping cock from her mouth and quickly plunged it back into his pants, zipping them up to conceal the guilty weapon.
The warning finally penetrated to Sister Anne's sex-fogged brain, and she quickly stood up, just as Sister Ellen walked into the infirmary.
"What is this?" Sister Ellen demanded, in a huff. She had never liked Sister Anne, considered her a stiff prude, and besides, she was greatly jealous of Sister Anne's beauty. Sister Ellen was rather plain and dumpy, while Anne was beautiful, with delicate features, high sexy cheekbones, clean pink skin, a small, pert nose, sensuous lips, and the most rounded womanly figure in the entire orphange, bar none, maybe even in the whole city.
Sister Anne was quick to respond, doing her best to control the emotions which were racing through her mind, a crazed mixture of sexual passion, shame, and self-loathing. "Ed hurt himself ... playing baseball," she wheezed out, looking Sister Ellen straight in the eye. "He was bleeding profusely. I thought he might even need stitches. So I brought him here. Someone is supposed to be here at all times," she directed this barb at Sister Ellen in an attempt, rather feeble, for Sister Ellen was older and on more sure ground, psychologically speaking, "but as you were gone, I took care of it, washing the wound."
"I see," Sister Ellen responded coldly and with a definite hint of sarcasm in her voice. "I see that the wound," this last word almost dripped with sarcasm, "was not so serious as you imagined."
"No, not so serious," Sister Anne responded.
"Well, you may go now. I'll take care of the young patient," Sister Ellen said, ushering Sister Anne out of the room and turning to confront Ed, who trembled with fear.
CHAPTER TWO
Sister Anne's thoughts and emotions were all embroiled in absolute confusion. Never before since coming to the nunnery at a young and tender age had she felt so strange. Before, everything in her world had made sense. If she ever had any questions about anything, about how to live her life, about the meaning of it, about the meaning of anything, all was answered by the dogma and teachings of the Church, and these could be found in the Holy Bible, or if that source were not particular or specific enough for each problem as it arose, she could search further into the books of explication, or if these books, too, failed her, Sister Anne had only to go to her Mother Superior, whose wisdom and experience was unparalleled and never failed her.
But how could she deal with the problems which faced her now? She had sinned, sinned as no nun before, she was quite sure, had ever sinned. It was bad enough to have such sinful thoughts as had been pursuing her lately, thoughts of cocks and of fucking, lustful thoughts concerning not only men, which would be bad enough, but the boys in the orphanage, her charges, who had been put there for protection and to be brought up in an atmosphere of religiosity and temperance, not licentious sexuality and perversion. What had she done! She had sucked the poor boy's cock! Would he ever get over the humiliation, the trauma to his young and still developing personality? Sister Anne could only pray to Heaven that he would.
And what he had said about the Mother Superior-it was absurd, of course, something he had heard from someone else, not a deliberate lie, just wrong information. But how could young Ed, who was such an intelligent boy, such a good student, how could he believe such an obviously ludicrous story?
Sin! The thought of it pursued Sister Anne as she hurried down the corridors of the orphanage. She had a class in geography to teach that afternoon, but she simply didn't feel herself up to it. Everything was too confusing. Sister Anne entered the classroom and her eyes swept the room, eyeing the boys and the girls, young people all, and quite innocent, thirteen, fourteen years, absolutely uncorrupted. Sister Anne lifted her eyes to Heaven and breathed a silent prayer that these young children, one and all, be spared from her corrupting, evil influence.
Then she turned to the class, and what she saw surprised and horrified her as she had never been horrified before, for wherever a young boy was sitting, she saw not a boy, but a cock, a huge monstrous cock sitting there in the chair and regarding her with a hungry glare.
Sister Anne's eye almost bulged out of her head, but she controlled herself. If there was one thing that life as a nun had taught her, it was how to control herself. She had failed miserably at this shortly before, when she had found herself driven to suck Ed's cock, but she would not fail now. No, she should not show these children what was happening to her, how the demons were invading her mind and body. There was only one thing to do, and that was to call off the class immediately, before things got any worse.
"Class dismissed," she announced without any explanation. The students needed none. They whooped with joy and raced out of the room, young girls and young penises.
She had to see the Mother Superior, had to get help quickly before all was lost, before the demons of hell seized her forever and carried her away.
Sister Anne paused by the door to the Mother Superior's quarters. She prepared to knock, her fist formed, tiny girlish fingers clutched together, and raised itself to plummet onto the hardwood door. But then Sister Anne paused, for she heard sounds, strange sounds that penetrated to the depths of her soul, sounds coming from Mother Superior's room.
She listened. "Uhhhh ... uhhhh ... OOOO!"
Sister Anne could not have said what these sounds signified, except that they evidently were produced by a human throat, the throat, no doubt of the Mother Superior. They were long, slow moans, and the first thought that came to the young nun was that the Mother Superior was in pain, perhaps suffering from an attack of some kind. Surely she must rush in and help her!
But some other impulse restrained Sister Anne, perhaps a deeper, more human understanding, which her conscious mind refused to acknowledge.
Then she heard further moans, and these moans were from another person, were deeper. They sounded to her somewhat ... masculine!
"Ahhhhh ... ooohhhh, aaarggh...."
They sounded deep and full of passion. Yes! Passion! Suffering! Pleasure in suffering!
Sister Anne almost swooned dead away, but she steadied herself by reaching out and grabbing the handle of the door to the Mother Superior's room. Perhaps it was an unconscious desire to witness the scene which was occuring within the room, but in any case her movement had the same effect, for the door glided open, quietly, half open, and when Sister Anne managed to focus her eyes what she saw gave her a deadly shock, like a kick in the head, only worse, for it penetrated deeply into her entire conception of humanity and morality and in fact of God.
Sister Anne did not want to see this, but something drew her eyes irresistibly toward the bed and held them there so that they could not move.
There on the bed the Mother Superior, a woman of about forty years with a full figure, rather matronly, perhaps, but still sexy, with large full breasts, a fairly thin waist, and awesome hips and a fine, fleshy ass, was rising up and down on top of Brother Mark's prick, which was buried right in her cunt.
Brother Mark was lying on his back, thrusting up vigorously, plunging his cock deeper and deeper into the Mother Superior's cunt as she rode him like a bucking bronco.
Sister Anne was disgusted, but also fascinated, for though she had heard and in fact during her sinful moments even read about the act of fucking, she had never witnessed it, yet alone experienced it. It was even more bizarre and strange than she had thought.
She was fascinated by the way the Mother Superior kept on moving, moving in all directions, swinging her hips lasciviously about, from side to side. And also the way she thrust her hips up and down. Her tits bobbled around a lot too, like two balloons let loose from a circus parade, as she bounced her body up along the shaft of Brother Mark's penis, her tits bounced up too, and as Sister Anne watched they seemed to move in slow motion, flopping slowly up in the breeze created by their two bodies slapping rhythmically together, rising and changing shape as they rose, all the flesh seeming to move forward right into the nipples, which were hard and distended, like two arrow heads.
Sister Anne had never seen nipples look like that, so stiff and protuberant. She had an odd thought, but one appropriate to the scene she was witnessing: they looked to her like two penises.
That thought made her look at Brother Mark's penis, as it appeared slipping in and out of the Mother Superior's cunt. It looked strange, a red bulbous mass, as it appeared and then just as suddenly disappeared, as her cunt swallowed it up. Amazing. When the prick drew back, out of the Mother Superior's cunt, it seemed so monstrously huge that she couldn't imagine that any cunt could take in any part of it. But then it would completely disappear.
Sister Anne's head bobbed back and forth with the rhythm of their fucking, so involved in it did she become. Her cunt began to grow more and more excited, until it seemed to her that it was she who was lying astride Brother Mark, and it was her cunt which was receiving his cock and its endless series of hard thrusts.
The juices of sexual lubrication began to run down between her thighs. She licked her lips slowly, and her hand sought her breast, to squeeze it and feel pleasure in that way, as she watched the invigorating scene going on before her eyes.
"Ohhh! Ahhh!" the Mother Superior moaned, as she rammed her cunt down on Brother Mark's dick as hard as she could. It felt great inside of her, filling her right up. She really loved Brother Mark, for he had the biggest cock of anyone in the orphanage. She loved making it with the boys because they were so fresh and full of burgeoning life, but when it came to ultimate satisfaction, she preferred Brother Mark every time. He was also quite expert, a real professional lover, as it were, and he really knew how to drive his prick into her in the way which pleased her the most.
He drove his cock into each crevasse of her cunt, a really large cunt and one that had been fucked many times in her years on earth. She needed a large cock and one that was quite expert in order to give her the sensations which she needed.
Brother Mark, in his turn, loved to fuck her because she really let go, really went wild. He had, of course, heard about the pleasures of fucking young, fresh, tight cunt, young girl cunt, and he knew quite a bit about that, as the presence of so many young girls there at the orphanage really afforded him the opportunity of making good and frequent use of their cunts, which he knew how to arouse easily and quickly and with great proficiency, but although their cunts sure felt fine as they surrounded his immense throbbing member, still there was something which their young bodies could not give him, something which he could only get from a woman like the Mother Superior. That was the feeling of a real, fleshy, full-grown woman giving her whole, losing all of her inhibitions in his carnal embrace, a woman who had really been around and had fucked many men so that she fully appreciated what an expert he really was. Oh, the young girls appreciated him all right, they loved his cock and got off on the way he shoved it so vigorously into them. But they were young, and could not know just how fine a fucker he actually was. Many of them got off just as much when fucking one of the younger brothers, or even one of their cohorts there in the oprhange, some boy of no more than fourteen or fifteen years who barely knew one end of his cock from the other! No, give him an older woman every time!
His hands grabbed the Mother Superior's breasts and grabbed them and squeezed them hard, so hard that the flesh oozed out from between his fingers, so hard that it almost hurt her, so hard that she loved it. Her nipples shot out like two pink flame-throwers under the expert urging of Brother Mark's digital manipulations, and her cunt kept on splashing its love juices over his enflamed and swollen cock, swollen with the passion that was about to burst through in a violent eruption, an eruption which Brother Mark felt fast approaching the more the Mother Superior moved up and down on top of his ramrod.
"Ohhhh!" he moaned loudly, and his groans affected Sister Anne almost as much as they affected the Mother Superior, who herself seemed on a fast train ride to bliss.
Sister Anne touched herself between her legs and began to frig herself rapidly, her hand automatically doing whatever it could do to bring her body the sexual gratification which she saw the Mother Superior so thankfully receive from the hard cock of Brother Mark, satisfaction, which she would have liked to receive likewise, but for now her hand would have to do. It would not be right to break in on the scene before her. Sister Anne was afraid of the wrath of the Mother Superior, who was her guide in all things, if she so much as saw Sister Anne there, watching, masturbating. Sister Anne was ashamed of her behavior, but felt herself compelled by a strange mixture of emotions to keep on watching, and she could not have left that doorway even if she had wanted to.
Here she was, seeing the woman whose purity she respected above all else, being ravished by a Brother.' With a moan of passion that was so loud it seemed to penetrate deep within Sister Anne's inner core, the Mother Superior began to come. Her body thrashed around now more even than before, like a wild, whipped mare, like a tropical storm. And that was how she felt as she burst in torrents about Brother's Mark's courageous cock, the floodgates of her cunt suddenly opening wide and letting loose the overflowing hot juices, more like gases really, that flowed down and all over his groin and his cock, as she flopped about crazily.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" Brother Mark answered back in a series of hoarse and increasingly spasmodic cries of pleasure, with such an intense sound that they almost seemed like the most excrutiating pain. But his prick was jumping and shooting out its load of semen straight into the Mother Superior's over-eager cunt, which thrashed about lewdly to receive the Brother's gift, his offering, his hommage. No, it was no pain that Brother Mark felt, only pleasure of the most body satisfying sort, pleasure which left him drenched and spent, but pleasure nonetheless.
Sister Anne could no longer keep still. The excitement on the bed had traveled across the room and had driven her to such peaks of feverish excitement that she was now masturbating herself shamelessly, almost without caring if she were discovered at it or not, thinking about nothing at all, but just lost in a quick whirl of unknown lust.
Lucky for her that the occupants on the bed were so overwhelmingly occupied with their own sexual accomplishments and could not hear, could not see, could in no way perceive anything that was happening outside of themselves. Their bodies twining together in a lewd and lascivious manner, the Mother Superior and the Brother were tangled and groaning, his prick flopping free now, gradually sinking back to its flaccid state, even as the Mother Superior's fingers reached down to caress it tenderly, as she groaned with passion that had still not exhausted itself, although her orgasm had just passed. She was a wild woman, with a lot of sexual stamina.
Brother Mark's prick looked so good to her that she just could not let it go, not without a fight anyway, so knowing how much the good Brother appreciated a post-coital blow job, the Mother Superior quickly slid her way down and opened her lips wide, closing them upon the head of the Brother's slightly limp, growing limper, dick.
"Ummmm," he moaned with new pleasure as he felt her soft and exquisitely juicy lips slide over the head of his cock, touching him there with passion.
"Ah!" He expostulated, somewhat more loudly, as her tongue jabbed out from between her wide lips and coated the underside of his slippery cock with a layer of saliva, hot and tasty from deep within her.
She kissed his cock over and over again and tongued it frantically, but if by all of this she hoped to prevent it from growing small, then her efforts were to no avail.
The cock grown small, the two participants on the bed grew quiet, although Sister Anne sensed that in the scene there still remained the strong possibility of renewed action, for while the Brother lay his head back and was apparently dead to the world, the Mother Superior's eyes never left his dick, and her eyes glowed with an unearthly fire, the same fire which Sister Anne had seen in them many times, during discussions of prayer or of faith, an expression which had earned the Mother Superior a reputation of great piety. But what did they mean now?
Disgusted and appaled, at herself as well as at the two undraped figures on the bed, Sister Anne decided to take this break in their sexual activity as an opportunity for her to make her escape. She knew that she could do this as soundlessly as she had entered, so there was no fear of being caught, so quietly as a mouse, Sister Anne slipped out of the room, wiser but sadder than when she had entered it, and with none of her omnipresent worries in any way solved. She was still one mixed up nun.
CHAPTER THREE
Sister Anne spent the evening in concentrated prayer and meditation, imploring God to forgive her for her sins and asking what to do, both about her sins and about her new-found knowledge. She prayed for the Mother Superior and for Brother Mark, and she prayed for all the others, though she knew them not, who had fallen to temptation.
Her eyes searched her small, scarcely decorated room, eyeing the books on the shelves, works on devotional and charitable and educational matters. What help could they be to her now? The picture of Jesus, a copy of painting by Masaccio of the Saviour on the Cross: even this was of no avail, for Sister Anne's mind was assailed by images and problems which no text, no dogma, nothing of the Church, could deal with.
For the first time in her life, Sister Anne felt as though she was absolutely on her own. The thought frightened her.
She decided to try to pass the time in a useful manner, and in that way take her mind off of the questions that possessed her. Sister Anne therefore pulled from her desk a sheaf of essays which her class had written. Carefully sharpening a number of pencils, both red and blue, she prepared to read them and correct them thoroughly.
Portugal. Norway. The Straits of Magellan. The Bosporus. Patagonia. The words crawled and squirmed beneath her tired gaze like so many worms, refusing to take on their accustomed lexicographical meaning.
Concentrate, Sister Anne told herself, concentrate on the task at hand and everything will be all right.
But it wasn't. Nothing was all right. The images of cocks again rose to assail her. Every letter looked like a miniature cock, so Sister Anne felt as though she was no longer reading a page of words, but looking at veritably thousands of tiny, but dangerous cocks. Staring at her.
This must stop, she told herself. This fantasy of cocks has gone on long enough. I can't take any more! She almost screamed this out, but restrained herself at the last minute, fortunately too, for the nun's rooms were all very close together, and any scream would certainly cause quite an uproar, as nuns came running from all over, to see or to share or to help. Or to torment! A new image of her sister nuns assailed her. No longer were they the pure, hard-working angels of mercy which she had always assumed. Sister Rose, Sister Beatrice, Sister Mary. Sister Anne could see them all now, grinning with voluptuous delight as they held the faces of young boys pressed tightly against their aching cunts!
No! How could she think such things? Sister Anne gave her head a vigorous shake to clear it of all the filthy debris which had been accumulating there. Back to work, she told herself, taking another look at the paper which she held before her, red pencil poised to detect any errors either factual or in terms of style.
"At night, along the river, the lions roam in search of they prey, and the native village grows excited. It is time for the festival of the greatfruits, and the headmen of the tribe prepare to do the festive Ubangi stomp."
Festival. Festive. Should not be used in the same sentence, evidence of clumsy style and lack of imagination enough to find another word. A sign of laziness. Sister Anne despised laziness most of all in her students, for a lazy mind is the devil's playground. But then she thought-the Ubangi stomp! And an image suddenly appeared to her mind just as clearly and as vividly as though it were an actual scene which she was witnessing right within her tiny room. The Ubangis! Hundreds of tall Ubangi warriors, dancing and leaping high into the air, the red from the fire casting eerie shadows and making their skin glow like coals. Naked they were, and their dicks were supporting sheaths which pointed high, high, high into the air.
Sister Anne suddenly stood up and hurled the paper across the room. "This will not do," she said to herself, enunciating each word clearly and distinctly, as though it were a talisman to ward off a demon.
Just then there came a knock on her door. Sister Anne hesitated to answer it, hesitated to move at all, as though she were afraid of who, of what, was outside for her, waiting in the hall. She stood stock still and did not move at all, as though afraid of giving herself away. Truly, a demon there might be. Sister Anne's world had been toppled so neatly that she now could almost believe in anything.
She heard a whisper. "Sister Anne! Sister Anne! Open up! It's me!" It was the whisper of a young man. She recognized the voice as belonging to Ed! He continued. "Sister Anne! I had to hide in the closet for a while. I was afraid that if the Mother Superior were to find me coming here, she would beat me again."
Again? What did he mean? Sister Anne remained silent, but she was attentive to his words, and her body, unbeknownst to herself, was attentive to his presence. Her skin grew slightly warm, as though she were lying on the beach, under the sun, an activity she had never engaged in, and moisture began to form in small beads on her forehead. The muscles in her arms and in her thighs grew slightly tense, as though she were preparing to run, or to strike out violently with her hands, which gradually tightened into small fists.
Sister Anne looked heavenward, and she silently mouthed a short prayer, asking to be saved from the temptations which she could even then feel gripping her. Had the demon made his way into her room through the keyhole? Such must have been the case, for how else to explain the excitement that began to course through her as she listened to Ed knocking lightly on the door, and whispering to her, his voice, his presence, she could almost smell him. She began to tremble, her thighs began to glow with an inward fire, her cunt grew moist.
"Please, Sister Anne, please let me in. I want to see you. Oh, I've got to see you, please, before the Mother Superior, or anyone, finds me here."
As though someone else was doing it, Sister Anne watched herself glide across the room to the door, place her long fingers on the cold knob, turn it, clicking the lock open, and then pull it back, revealing the small, sexy, strong form of Ed, the boy she had tempted, the boy she had corrupted.
If that was so, he looked none the worse for wear. Fear, certainly, was in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by hot flashes of joy as the door to Sister Anne's private room, her bedroom indeed, opened to permit him inside. He came in quickly, not waiting for her to change her mind.
"What are you doing here, Eddie?" Sister Anne asked, doing her best to conceal the excitement which she felt at seeing him there, so close to her. He was dressed in nothing but a blue tee shirt and a pair of Levi's over his white sneakers, and his body looked athletic and muscular under this clothing which hid nothing of his form. She made a real effort of the will to keep her eyes up, up, away from his crotch. And it is to her credit that she succeeded, for the urge was very great.
"Well," Ed said, rather diffidently, a little shyly, now that he was with her, "things were going so well today ... I thought you wanted to....hear more."
Sister Anne was hanging on each word which he spoke, hoping that he would say that he wanted her, for she wanted him, but hoping also that he wouldn't, for it was wrong, and not wanting to admit to herself that she really did want him. So when he concluded by saying that she wanted to hear more-that was just what Sister Anne needed most at that moment, an excuse to keep him in the room with her, an excuse to involve herself with him in an enterprise that was intimate, slightly illicit, slightly sexual, in terms of what they would talk about, and yet free from the taint of actually physically ... doing anything to each other. So Sister Anne jumped on this suggestion with immediate alacrity, using it as a life preserver to hold onto in a shaking sea. She immediately took on whatever she could then manage of a business-like air and said, "Yes. Yes. I do want to hear. You must be misinformed, Eddie, thinking that improper activities occur here in the orphanage. Where did you hear such things? Who has been spreading such rumors?"
"Let me sit down," Ed said, planting his ass on the edge of Sister Anne's bed.
So excited was the Sister with following his story that she quickly sat herself down next to him. "Well then, young man, tell me...."
Ed inhaled, and the odor of a sexually aroused woman wafted into his eagerly receptive nostrils. The smell maddened him. He wanted to reach out immediately, grab her, pull her clothing off, and plunge his dick inside. There was just something about Sister Anne that did that to him, and he thought it was because, not only did she have the fullest, ripest, sexiest body of any woman he had ever seen, but she was also so sweet and innocent. She really didn't know what went on within the orphanage between the kids and the sex-obsessed nuns and brothers? Amazing!
"I don't know where to start, Sister Anne," Ed said slowly, sincerely, really trying to communicate with her. He knew that might be hard, because there was a wall between them, a wall which she had constructed. But he thought it would soon be tumbling down. "But fucking goes on all the time. I'm surprised you don't know about it, but I guess it's just that you're too good. They're afraid to tell you."
"Who? Who's afraid to tell me?" She moved closer to him on the bed, so anxious was she tohear his reply.
"I dunno. They all are, the Mother Superior, she's the worst. It's not so bad, just fucking, and sucking, and eating out pussy, all of that stuff. Sometimes it's great," he looked at her longingly, "if you like the person. Of course, it's not so good when they make you do it, wake you up when you are sleeping just to lick their pussies, two or three nuns at once, sometimes, but even that's not so bad, what's really bad, and makes me mad is when they don't even say thank you, or good night, just tell you to get out, like you're a dog or something. I mean, all some of the nuns are interested in is cock. Cock, that's all they care about. They don't even care if you're a person, or if you dig it or not. Some of them even want you to be miserable, they want you to suffer. The Mother Superior, she...." Ed was having visible trouble saying it, as though something within him was holding the words back. His words had been coming out quickly, in spasmodic clusters of emotion, and now he broke down completely, weeping bitter tears of sorrow and fear.
Shocked as she was by the boy's disclosures, not really understanding all of them, as they had come out too quickly for immediate comprehension, yet somehow convinced by the boy's evident sincerity, convinced without knowing it, Sister Anne's heart went out to the crying lad, as she had always liked him anyway, so she spread her arms wide and seized him, hugging him tightly to her in a deep embrace.
It felt so good to be in Sister Anne's arms that Ed soon stopped crying and began to feel like a grown up man. This feeling was enforced by the rapid engorgement of his cock, which began to stir and get bigger and stiffer until he felt it rise up and press hard against his pants, trying to get out, get free to do its work.
Sister Anne was in a kind of rapture as she held his firm young masculine body pressed tightly against her curvaceous form. She felt his arms go about her shoulders, and felt him squeeze her body even more tightly against his, and she let him, for it felt fine. She felt his hands rubbing up and down against her back, touching and massaging her backbone, each and every vertebrae, through her habit and through her skin. It felt great, very sensual and soothing. Sister Anne found her arms stroking him. She felt a bulge pressing against her thigh, looked down and noticed that it was the young boy's cock.
"Oh," she cooed with pleasure, as automatically her hands closed on it, unzipped the pants, pulled it out, and began to stroke. Sister Anne was getting quite practiced at this now. It was starting to come to her as easily as saying mass.
Ed reached out and touched her all over, his hands reaching for her tits, touching them through the habit, feeling the nipples stiffen beneath the sure work of his nimble, probing finger.
"This time for sure," he thought. "This time I get inside! Yeah!"
A swoony kind of feeling engulfed Sister Anne and she felt herself falling back onto the mattress. As she fell back, Ed came with her, and was presently lying there on top of her full and rich womanly form.
As Sister Anne looked up, she noticed that her legs were spread, and that Ed was between them, his hard cock pressing down against her genital region, his hands busily engaged in hoisting her habit up.
This time she made no complaint. She wanted to be fucked by Ed more than anything in the world, and she was determined now to see it through without any more hesitations or obstacles. Her habit, being the first obstacle, had to be the first to go.
"Let me help you," she said. "Here, I can get it off quickly," Anne said, as she began pulling the cumbersome garment off.
Ed just moved back and watched her, absolutely amazed at how she was getting into it, not giving him a hard time at all, probably hornier than any woman he had ever seen in his life. He figured that she was a virgin, or the next best thing.
Amazement changed to enchantment as he saw her tits appear from beneath her habit as she raised it up over her head. They were absolutely lovely, perfectly firm and very pink, with budding breasts that were a real mouthful just by themselves, and they really got Ed's mouth to watering.
Then enchantment changed to wonder and awe as Sister Anne removed the garment completely, and the full extent of her naked beauty was revealed to his fast-questing eyeballs. She was the most luscious thing he had ever seen, the most luscious thing he had ever dreamed of. He could not imagine what strange quirk of fate had ever sent this vision of female beauty to a convent, for she truly belonged in the centerfold of any number of fashionable men's magazines. And the kick of it was, she didn't even know it!
Ed just feasted his eyes on her, too stupefied to move or even to talk, as Sister Anne looked down bashfully at the floor, her cheeks turning a delicate pale shade of pink. Ed, wise beyond his years, realized that she was blushing. Was she ashamed of the way she looked? Impossible! Yet, to look at her behavior-not so impossible. Such a thing should not be. It stirred the otherwise taciturn Ed to speak out.
"You're beautiful," he said. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
Sister Anne looked at him with a feeling in her eyes, and welling up in her heart, such as she had never felt before. It was stupendous, it made her heart beat fast and made her tits heave up and out, up and out, in a deadly rhythm.
Ed grabbed them, his fingers touching their firm flesh all over, delighting in the way their fleshy orbs fell into his palms and filled them up. He squeezed them and caressed them repeatedly, transported by great waves of lust. His prick jumped about wildly as he manipulated Sister Anne's tits, and she touched it, her long fingers running all up and down the length of the shaft, loving the resilient way it moved, loving its hardness which was at the same time somewhat soft.
"Why don't you take your clothes off, too?" she asked hesitantly, as though she was making some kind of bizarre, unheard of request.
But Ed understood what she was talking about, and in what seemed like two and a half seconds, he was totally unclothed and raring for some action.
"Yum!" he said, coming to her and sucking on her tits. His tongue swirling over her nipples was so hypnotic that Sister Anne just collapsed against the pillow and let him continue his masterful work.
He sucked her tits with gusto, first one and then the other, taking as much of each into his mouth at once as he could, and that was quite a bit, for Ed had a wide and eager mouth. But he could not get even a half of a tit into his mouth, for they were simply mammoth. The more Ed sucked them the more he loved them, and he felt like shooting his load there and then just from the excitement which sucking her magnificent tits was giving to him. But he waited. He knew that there were any number of other spots and times when it would be better to shoot his seed.
"Oh! This is great!" he said briefly, pausing from his breast feast. Then he buried his entire head between her huge melon-like tits and squeezed them together around his ears, feeling the warmth percolate right into his head. They were so smooth and pink, and he really loved the way they seemed so fresh, so big, too, absolutely an unexplored territory of the feminine anatomy, for he felt as if he were the first man to touch them.
The more Ed sucked her tits the more turned on did Sister Anne become. She had never realized, the thought had never occurred to her, that so much pleasure could arise from her tits. She had never paid much attention to them in the past, and in fact rather disliked them because they were so much bigger than any of the other nuns and really made her stand out, and they were so clumsy and cumbersome too, and jiggled so much when she walked, or even when she knelt to pray. But now she realized how fine they really were. Her tits were driving her out of her mind!
"Ahhhhhh!" she moaned, clutching Ed's head and pressing it more fervently against her chest, holding her tits between her two hands and touching them tightly about his head, almost trapping him in there like a rabbit in a box.
But Ed knew that one could only go so far with stimulating tits, and knew that she would want some stimulation elsewhere, even if Sister Anne herself did not yet know it.
But she did know it, and when she felt Ed's fingers touching her cunt, feeling around there, she breathed a sigh of relief and excitement, for her cunt had long been aching for just such a treatment as it now was receiving from the young boy's eager young hands.
"Oh, Ed! Oh, Ed!" she moaned, and Ed smiled.
His fingers found her clitoris and he proceeded to manipulate that tender and highly sensitive area of flesh, touching it repeatedly and squeezing it very lightly yet very effectively. He looked at her face while he did this and saw how her eyes rolled upwards, how her mouth opened, how silent gasps of passion began to come out, long drawn sighs, heaves, moans. Her breasts heaved up and down, slowly undulating, like fields of flowers in a warm summer wind. He kept on touching her there, feeling how wet she was, and how much wetter she was getting the more he touched her. It was just amazing, how quickly this shy nun was becoming a lover, for as he touched her it was hard for him to believe, hard even for her to believe, that this was not something which she had been doing forever.
"That feels good, so good!" she moaned.
"It feels great to me too," Ed said, and it did. Her hands were touching him all over. They clutched at his dick and stroked it up and down, and whenever they did that too furiously and led Ed to suppose that he was about to come, he just removed her hand with a polite, "You better hold off there," or a, "Ooooooh! That feels too good," and all was well. She touched him all over, his arms, his thighs, at one point her fingers even delved into the cleft of his ass, and that felt real good, as you may imagine. But it must have been an accidental gesture on Sister Anne's part for, moan with pleasure as Ed did as he felt her long silken fingers snake their way up towards his asshole, she did not repeat it. Ed decided that he would soon teach her about the pleasures of ass fingering. But meanwhile, there were pleasures aplenty right here to enjoy, and enjoy them he did.
Sister Anne felt a kind of madness come upon her. Her cunt was just dripping with sexual juices, preparing the way for Ed's cock to enter, for anything to enter, for a freight train to enter, judging by the floods of juices which flowed copiously out upon her thighs and around Ed's twisting and twining fingers, which by this time were digging deeply into her vagina. He delighted to feel how open she was, how wet and excited. Not like a frigid nun at all, but like a sensuous voluptuary, like a woman who lived for love.
Two fingers of Ed's hand slid in and out of her cunt, while Sister Anne's face was a study in ecstasy, head thrown back, eyes wide, chest rising and falling, full lips parted in a passionate pout. Then three fingers, fucking her, moving in and out more and more quickly. Then four fingers. Then his whole hand! What a woman!
Sister Anne began to breathe very heavily, and at this point Ed could no longer restrain himself. He had held back this long only because, loose and sexy and excited as she seemed to be, he knew that there was still the chance that if he climbed on and proceeded to shove his fierce and furious dick into her aching and open cunt, that she still might struggle, still might fight, might for some reason object and give him a hard time, and thus frustrate him. And such a frustration now, at this point, Ed knew that he just could not stand. That would be asking too much of any man! Even though he well knew that she wanted to fuck him just as much as he wanted to fuck her, and she let him touch her and she touched him, still, the actual fucking might frighten her off.
But that fear no longer bound him. Just one glance into Sister Anne's eyes would be enough to convince anyone that here was a woman who wanted it. And Ed was prepared to give her it.
The young man climbed between the woman's outstretched and lush thighs, so soft, so full, so rich, so warm, very pink. His hairy legs touched her smooth ones, and he directed the long shaft of his dick right at her open, pink, quivering cunt, which shone in the moonlight shining in through the room's one window. Juicy and delectable, and it would soon be his! Ed quivered with expectation.
Then the tip of his cock touched her, and what seemed like an electrical current went buzzing through his body, right up to his brain.
Sister Anne almost passed out from pleasure as she felt the boy's cock touch her cunt. He did not plunge it in all at once, but waited a bit, a very little bit, about thirty seconds, just long enough to run his cock against her clitoris, watching her jump with quick spasms of sexual pleasure, and against the lips of her cunt, getting it real wet, wet with the same juices that made her wet, so that when his cock went inside, she wouldn't even notice it. Right?!
Ed shoved his cock in, not knowing whether or not she would be a virgin, but knowing that both of them were going to enjoy it in any case. His cock slid in very easily, not surprisingly considering how well lubricated and excited she was. Ed shoved it in slowly, nonetheless, wanting to enjoy it. Virgin she might have been, he decided, but not much of a one, for his cock slid right in and before he knew it, he felt his cock bury itself to the hilt all the way up Sister Anne's silky soft, smooth, glistening, pulsating quim. Then he just rested it there and looked deeply into her eyes.
Sister Anne smiled at him with thankfulness and sexual release. The greatest feelings she had ever had were intimately connected with cock, which she could feel moving around someplace very deep inside of her, as though it were not a part of Ed at all, but were a part of her.
But then when she looked Ed in the eyes, and saw him smile at her, wickedly, joyfully, and then felt his body pull back, she felt the cock pull out a little toy, and then she knew for sure that the cock was part of him.
There was almost a feeling of pain as the cock pulled back, but not quite, because Ed's eyes were holding tightly to hers, and if they were saying anything, it was that he was not going to leave her, he was with her, this was a joint venture, that cooperation was vital. So it turned into a feeling of the most exquisite pleasure as soon as Sister Anne realized that the cock, indeed, was coming sliding all the way back. And then as it slid out again her pleasure increased still more, to be multiplied as it slid forward, but then it felt better than ever as it went back, back, almost all the way out, so that Sister Anne screamed with a mixture of ecstasy and terror, and then the cock plunged ruthlessly into her cunt for one more time, like a violent sword ripping her apart and causing her to shriek with unalloyed pleasure.
And that was not all. Not by a long shot. It seemed that nothing could stop Ed's cock in its ruthless unceasing travels right into the center of Sister Anne's soft being. Nothing! It just kept coming and coming, plowing its way into her, reaching lower depths every time.
Her cunt churned up like butter being made, and her belly was beaten upon by Ed's belly, as his whole body slapped against hers repeatedly. He did this on purpose, loving the feel of her soft curvaceous flesh under his harder body, the way her body responded to his, bounced, like a trampoline. But he had never fucked a trampoline that felt as good as Sister Anne! Nor one with such a pair of knockers. He could not restrain himself from sucking upon them, even as his firm hard young body rode up and down on top of her, his cock sliding in and out of her cunt.
"Oh, Ed! Oh Ed! Oh Ed! Oh Ed!" She moaned over and over, timed to the rhythm of his thrusting pelvis as it drove down hard against her. Her mouth looked so good as she said this, so full and round and juicy, that it reminded Ed of her cunt, which he was coming to know so well, so he kissed her full on the lips.
This really surprised Sister Anne, for she had never gone through a regular high school, had never indulged in necking, so she had never experienced a kiss like this, one which was as wild and frenzied as a fuck. She never would have believed how responsive her mouth could be to erotic stimuli unless she had experienced it herself, as she now was doing.
Ed's lips pressed tightly against hers and as he was breathing hard and she could feel his breath as being part of her body, Sister Anne realized that he had forced her mouth open, or it had opened on its own, she really couldn't tell, all of this was so new and strange to her, and had shoved his tongue inside.
It tasted strange, it felt strange, but also good, very soft and wet and tasty, and like a snake, swirling around, like a dick in fact. She remembered how good it had felt to have young Ed's dick in her mouth. This felt just as good, and Sister Anne proceeded to suck on Ed's tongue just the way she had earlier sucked on his cock, her tongue swirling vigorously around it, traveling quickly all over. The difference now was that his tongue could tongue her back, so their tongues intertwined like two sex crazed snakes trying to fuck, only they were warmer than snakes, almost hot in fact, hot with sexual passion, and filled with the looseness of sexual abandon.
Impelled by what unknown force Sister Anne could not say, she suddenly found herself biting and chewing upon Ed's lower lip. It tasted so good that she could not help herself, and besides, some wicked force was urging her on.
Ed yelped, but he liked it. She could tell because his cock thrust into her even more vigorously than before, and with a new rythm that was a healthy variation on all of those that came before, a sure sign that Ed was enjoying the proceedings, that they didn't bore him, that he was anxious to demonstrate his sexual prowess to this fine woman, and that he wanted to entertain her with his body to the utmost extent that he could manage. And that was plenty.
Sister Anne was whimpering with lust, absolutely lost in a world of lust, on a planet of sex. Sex was what she was born for. This she now knew for certain. How could she ever have doubted it or believed anything else? Absurd!
Ed was breathing heavily in her ear, and the breaths began to come out with more force than before, and his motions on top of her body became more frenzied, less controlled. When she saw his face there was a look of inexplicable madness upon it. From all of these signs, Sister Anne determined that something big was on the way.
Also, she felt it, not within Ed, for close as they were in this most intimate of all the intimate acts, they were still separate individuals, and much as she may have wished to, Sister Anne could not feel what was going on inside of him. She felt it in herself. The force seemed to be building up within her as though from the center of the earth, as though a mighty earthquake or volcano was about to erupt and leave the earth as it had never been before. Her entire body shook as though she was suddenly possessed by a palsied demon, and racing feelings shot through her cunt, feelings that were almost too good to stand, feelings that were certainly too good to stand without screaming and shouting and twisting lasciviously from side to side.
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Ah!" She screamed, then as the feeling grew, "Ah! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck! Shit! Fuck me! Me! Oh Yes! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
The words signalled Sister Anne's release from the restraints of the holy orders, but signalled also and, in this respect, her more significant release from the earthly plane, for her orgasm had erupted, and she found herself flying through interstellar space, lost to the world.
Ed's come shot out at the same moment, adding to the confusion which was taking place at the meeting point of their loins. Gushers of come oozed out from between their intertwined bodies as it whooshed out from past his cock and merged with the other juices that were flowing from Sister Anne's cunt, to make quite a mess on the bed. But they didn't care. They were having too good of a time.
Sister Anne was thrashing about lewdly, not caring a whit for her demeanour, just demanding and receiving bodily satisfactions such as she had never dreamed of before, and doling them out as well.
Ed's prick felt itself grasped and hugged by the moist and clutching interior membranous walls of Sister Anne's cunt. Her cunt was alive, like a kind of monster, holding onto his cock so tightly and with such insistent pleasure, that it seemed as though she never wanted to let go. It was as if her cunt was acting up now, in answer to all of the years it had been deprived of the pleasure of having a cock, and now wanted to hold onto that cock to ensure that those such years would never come again.
But having shot out the come, it is inevitable that the cock will grow small, and this now began to happen. Ed's cock withdrew into itself, and a little crease of pain appeared on Sister Anne's forehead.
Ed did his best to console her with tender caresses and soft words, but nothing could allay her fears of losing his magnificent cock for good. She humped her pelvis back and forth, milking the last bit of pleasure from Ed's receding penis, her big tits flopping against him as she moved.
Ed loved those tits. His cock just barely hanging into the lips of her cunt, he began to suck on her nipples, gratified at how quickly and with what relish the two pert protuberances responded.
"Ummmm, that feels good. Ohhh!" Sister Anne moaned, happy to feel Ed still concerned with her body, realizing that perhaps, just perhaps, their fucking was not over, that more would quickly follow. Could such a heavenly pleasure be? Sister Anne really had no idea of just how much pleasure should be allotted to a girl.
Ed's tongue swirled devillishly around her nipples, and licked the sweat away from her chest, perspiration which had accumulated in small warm pools, salty too, like those found in oases in the middle of the great Arabian desert. His tongue probed between her breasts, lapping up all that he could find, inhaling her lovely feminine odors, which greatly excited him and stirred up the little hairs within his nostrils.
"Oh that feels so good," Sister Anne cooed to him.
Just at that moment, Ed's shriveled cock finally fell all the way out of Sister Anne's cunt, but she didn't mind, or not much, because this allowed Ed to move, and move he did.
The young boy, entranced at this immense field of womanly flesh, unexplored womanly flesh too, which made it so much the better, which lay spread out before him on the bed, commenced to go exploring. His tongue traveled down her body past her tits, although he was slightly loathe to leave those melons of pleasure. But there was so much else, so much that was fine. His tongue traced a trail down her belly, kissing the firm pink flesh as he did so, causing Sister Anne to writhe about on the bed with pleasurable tickling sensations almost driving her wild.
Young Ed came to the nun's belly button, a slight indentation in her slim, incredibly sexy stomach. It attracted him so that he inserted his tongue into it, and then began to turn his tongue round and round, as though it were a corkscrew.
"Ooooooh," she moaned.
His hands clutched her thighs tightly, not wanting to ever let go, as his tongue continued to excite her by boring deeply into her navel, as though it were just another cunt. Ed had never gotten so much pleasure as this from any woman's belly button. What gave him the most pleasure, perhaps, was the way she responded, for Sister Anne became so excited that her breath began to shoot out of her mouth like hot wind, and her whole body undulated about like a belly dancer.
Sister Anne's waist was incredibly slim, considering how deliciously and fully built she was, huge breasts, an immense sexy chest, that turned into a veritable wasp waist, only to blossom out again in the form of fine, incredibly luscious and lushly developed hips.
It was towards this part of the young woman's anatomy that Ed now turned his physical attentions. (His mental attentions had been there all along.)
"Oh yes!" she moaned, as she watched the young boy's head move further down her body. Sister Anne could feel his warm breath tickling her pubic hair, blowing across it like a sirocco, causing her to tingle and twitch with wild anticipation. Just what would he do next? Would he ... would his tongue ... would it kiss her ... down there? It was too much to hope ... and yet ... how much had happened so far that Sister Anne had never had the imagination to hope for? She decided to let her imagination run wild!
Ed looked at Sister Anne's cunt. It was still juicy and full with the excesses of their recent sexual bout, but that just made it look all the better to him. Ed just loved cunts, and he loved everything that could be done with them, sucking, fucking, diddling, you name it. And her cunt was a real delight. It was pearly pink and still pulsating with lust, and it looked like it was alive with a life of its own, like an oyster.
"Beautiful," he said in a soft voice, and Sister Anne spread her thighs more widely apart to accommodate anything that the lad might be inclined to do. Yes, her imagination was running wild now, and just thinking about how fine it would feel to have the boy's tongue delving amongst her cuntal walls got Sister Anne so excited that more juices began to ooze from somewhere deep within her, and her forehead felt feverish with a newly found sort of excitement.
But Ed did not suck and lick her cunt, not right away. He wanted to make her suffer first, with the kind of pleasure that experienced woman at the art of love, just love to feel, the thing that gets them so excited that they find themselves begging and pleading for ... whatever the man wants to give them!
Ed's quick lips attacked Sister Anne's inner thighs, closing upon the soft, full flesh like a snake, chewing on the flesh with sharp young teeth, not biting her hand, but just nibbling, as one does to soft cheese, or ice cream, licking and nibbling and inhaling the healthy goodness all at the same time.
Sister Anne grew more and more excited, as she found out just how sensitive her thighs really were. Ed could feel the heat from her cunt pulsate out and impinge against his ears, heating them up so that they turned slightly scarlet.
Every bite he took brought him closer and closer to Sister Anne's cunt, her raging center of sexual desire. Her hands touched Ed's head, caressing his hair, urging him slowly onwards, not wanting to seem too pushy about it, but letting him know that she was following his progress towards her cunt with the most intense and all-encompassing interest.
"Ooooooh, that's so good," she said.
Ed's hands reached beneath her and found her ass, which was not hard to find because it was large and juicy and full, the finest ass he had ever had anything to do with, or figured that he ever would.
Sister Anne raised her bottom off of the bed to give his hands the necessary room to move, for she really loved the sensations which all ten of his busy fingers were drawing out of her ass flesh, as his fingers moved quickly and all over. They squeezed her flesh tightly, so that folds of it came oozing out from between his fingers. His fingers then slid unopposed over the wide smooth expanse of bottom flesh, the best part of a woman, so far as Ed, and many another man, are concerned.
"Ahhhhh," she moaned.
Ed's fingers had found her crevasse, the cleft between her two full ass cheeks, and his long thin fingers traveled up this well-marked path, touching her with great joy and without trepidation. He knew that she would do nothing to stop him now, would not even think of it. Sister Anne was wholly in his power. But then, he was also wholly in hers. It was a fair exchange from which both of them only profitted.
His fingers reached out and found her anus, her petite little asshole, an organ of her body that had as yet been touched by no other fingers other than her mother's, when she was very, very young, and her own, and then only in the course of washing or other forms of cleanliness, and then only briefly, without the deliberate attempt to touch it in order to bring forth pleasure. So it was a wholly new sensation to Sister Anne to feel the young boy's finger touching her there, slightly, then going away, then touching her again, somewhat harder, then withdrawing, then touching her again and again and again.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she moaned, gasping for breath.
It felt hypnotic, his finger, long index finger, descending repeatedly against her asshole, playing her the way he would play a tiny drum. She came to anticipate each touch of his finger and look forward to it with great anticipation, even though scarcely seconds separated each touch of the boy's finger. The pleasure was intense.
And then suddenly, the pleasure which Sister Anne was feeling seemed to double, to treble, to quadruple, all within a matter of seconds, for it was in those few seconds that Ed did two things almost simultaneously.
He plunged his finger right up into her asshole, and he plunged his open mouth against her open cunt, inserting his long and furiously moving tongue against her clitoris.
"Ahhhhh! Eeeeeee!" she screamed, totally driven mad by what he was doing to her poor, befuddled body. She had never felt anything like this before, and never had two of her orifices at once attacked by a sex maddened young man. It was too much to be believed, but she had to believe it, because she was experiencing it, and it was an experience that could not be doubted for it was just too, too intense.
His tongue flickered out maddeningly, touching her clitoris and bringing it new life. His tongue, she considered could bring life to the dead! His warm breath blew against her clitoris as he sucked it, driving her to a peak of frenzy.
Sister Anne's body thrashed about on the bed, almost knocking Ed away from her in the excess of her wild passion, but he held on tight and just kept on doing what he was doing, his tongue sucking her clitoris and driving her into a fury, his index finger riding in and out of her asshole.
Ed was overjoyed to find her asshole loose enough to permit him to finger fuck her without apparently causing her even the least amount of pain, for finger fucking a fine chick's ass was really something that he liked to do. One thing that he liked about it, of course, was the opportunity it gave him to study her face while she was in the throes of passion. This he could not now do, because his face was so intimately engaged with the nun's cunt. But he consoled himself by thinking that he would have plenty of other opportunities. Wisely, he figured that once having tasted so deeply of the delicious throes of sexual passion, Sister Anne would not be so quick to return to her formerly chaste mode of life and behavior.
Also, he just loved sucking her cunt, for it was tasty and fine. His mouth moved into her cunt, as his tongue plunged hard and quickly into her vagina, fucking her with his tongue just as his finger was busy fucking away at her ass. He really had to hold Sister Anne down now to keep her from flying away into the air, so transported was she by young Ed's sexual bravura. He was really doing it to her, doing his best to give her all that he knew, all that he had learned from the other nuns, those sexual professionals, none of whom, despite their greater proficiency or experience, had half the natural talent or love that Sister Anne possessed. Yes, Ed considered himself to be a very fortunate lad indeed, for being the one to open up Sister Anne to a new life of sexual gratification. Good thing for baseball, he thought with a sly grin, as his tongue flicked out again and licked her cunt, tasting all of her delicately scented juices, mixed as they were with his come.
"Oh yes! Yes! Yes!" was all that Sister Anne could say at that moment, but it was enough.
Ed lapped up her juices quickly, his tongue gliding over the soft yet sensuous field of her cunt, feeling it move and quiver beneath him. His finger plunged into the hot depths of her asshole, which seemed to be burning up with passion, and he just wondered how much more of this intense treatment the young girl could take before veritably bursting into flames.
His own prick was large and distended and he really wanted to get it back inside of her. That gave him an idea. Her asshole was already so loose and ready from the finger fucking which he had been giving her, that Ed figured it would be quite alright, and in fact an excellent opportunity in which to fuck her in the ass, with his prick this time. He wouldn't even need any lubricating oil of unguent or anything, because her ass was ready; accustomed to pleasure, it would immediately associate his hard cock with pleasure, and he just knew that she would love it.
He said, "Hey, I've got an idea. Here, get on your knees. Yeah! This'll be great. Get ready."
Sister Anne did just as the young man instructed, not knowing precisely what he had in mind, only knowing that it had to be good. She fully realized what a novice in matters sexual she was, and so she determined to do nothing to stand in the way of her gaining further sexual knowledge and proficiency. She determined to follow the boy's lead in every matter possible, so she got onto her arms and knees with alacrity, sticking her ass way out into the air, and wriggling it around in a most provocative manner, something which she had never learned but which was apparently in her genes.
"What a beautiful behind you have there, Sister Anne," the lad exclaimed, overcome by its total and complete beauty. By bending over, she really threw her behind into relief, and he realized what a truly fine thing it was, so thick, so firm, so ripe and juicy.
Ed got behind her and guided his prick up towards her ass. He got it into position. It's tip just pressing slowly into the opening of her anus.
Sister Anne felt it there, and she wondered if he was going to shove it in. This was one possibility that somehow, despite the fine work he had done with his finger there to get her off, she had never really considered. It was just too far from her experience. Maybe too, it was because the ass was associated with the devil, in terms of the black ass and all. But now she knew that the ass was not part of the devil, it was part of her, and something to be enjoyed. She prepared to enjoy, prepared to enjoy anything that this beautiful young man wanted to lead her to.
Ed began to manipulate her cunt with the fingers of one of his hands as his other hand grasped his cock firmly and guided it right into her asshole, while he shoved it in with the force of his whole young athletic body.
Sister Anne gasped with sudden pain. Pain it was, but she did not experience it as pain, for to her, in these sexual circumstances, the pain was so instantly transmogrified into pleasure, that the word pain was wholly inappropriate from the sensations which went racing speedily throughout her whole body, the more his prick slid inside of her asshole, filling her up completely from behind.
"Oooooh! Good," she said in soft tones of passion.
Encouraged by the ease with which his prick slid into her, Ed reared back a little and then drove his whole pelvis, his whole frame forward, really letting Sister Anne have it.
Her whole body was shoved forward by the force of his intense thrust, and her tits bobbled about crazily, swaying forward and then back like two pendulums on a very strange, very sexy clock.
With a grunt of pure joy, Ed found that his prick was buried up to the hilt in Sister Anne's incredibly tight asshole. Her asshole gripped his cock firmly, and the friction which it produced as he slowly, gradually, began to move his cock forwards and back was simply not to be believed. It was absolutely heavenly, the way his cock filled her completely up and yet left him plenty of room to move. The more he moved the looser her cunt got, but no matter how much he moved his cock around, and he moved it plenty, Sister Anne's cunt never got too loose, never got so loose as to interfere with the intense friction, with all the grooves and ridges and tightness within her, that produced within Ed's prick, by touching it all over, so much fantastic pleasure and sensations of such a high magnitude of lust.
"Oh yes! Yes! Fuck my ass! Fuck my ass! My ass! Ass! Oh my! Oh yes!"
Sister Anne scarcely seemed a rational creature, as she totally surrendered to the physical impulses which were overtaking her. Her body moved precisely yet lewdly to the thrusting which Ed was giving her, driving his hard rod into her ass with greater and greater force and speed, really getting into it himself. This was even better than he had hoped.
His fingers continued to play with her cunt, knowing that she would get off even more if she felt sensations entering her body from her cunt as well as from her ass, for that way it would be as though she were totally surrounded by sex, which she was.
He drove his fingers deeply into her cunt, loving the way her juicy inner cunt walls opened to receive his fingers, and then slowly closed around them, as if not to let them go. He loved the way his fingers glided in and out of her slimy, delightful cunt, so glistening smooth, and yet so rough when he pressed in against her and felt the skin give and felt the muscles moving, undulating like hungry snakes, beneath his curious and probing fingers. And he particularly loved the way Sister Anne moaned and almost seemed to growl, as his fingers explored her fine cunt and his cock fucked her in her asshole. When she growled, Ed did not so much hear it, as feel it, the growls coming not only from her throat, but from somewhere deep inside of her, and spreading throughout her body, going from bone to bone and from organ to organ, vibrating. Her whole body vibrated with an inner energy, an energy which Sister Anne had always possessed, but which she had never yet felt to its fullest extent, for it was the kind of energy which craved physical release, and that was something which she had never felt, or at least not really, until now. And now she knew that she would never forget it, for this energy had become an integral part of her, of her personality, of her desires. She knew that she would never be the same again.
As Ed kept on fucking her in the ass, his prick moved in and out as easily as though he were fucking her cunt. One hand toyed continuously with her cunt, and the other hand reached up and grabbed first one breast, and then the other. To accomplish this Ed had to lean right on top of her, and Sister Anne rather straightened up, so he could clutch her tits and press them firmly against her chest, huge tits they were but they pressed in very easily, and he loved the way they moved about so lively beneath his fingers, which kneaded them like warm, living clay.
Their toy bodies bounced together on the bed, his prick riding in and out of her in a crazy, contented fashion, their breathing growing hot and heavy, both lost to any sensations other than those produced by each other, together, two bodies made as one.
"Oh yes! Yes! Yes!" she moaned repeatedly, like a broken record but with far more expression than had ever been heard from any record, broken or not.
"Oh! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ooooooh!" Ed exclaimed, as he fucked her furiously, not even conscious of what he was doing, just moving like a wild sexy machine, his prick moving forward and back as though by a will all its own.
Her asshole grabbed his cock and seemed to shake it, the way a terrier will grab a rabbit and toy with it before killing it. But here the toying was equally pleasurable to the rabbit as well as to the terrier, and Sister Anne's wild terrier of a cunt did its job very well, so well that Ed could feel the come rising quickly within the stem of his cock, and he knew without any doubt that the killing of his cock, making it spend and shoot and shrivel and die, would be just as pleasurable, or even more so, certainly more so, than the toying.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" he shouted, as the sperm rose up his long shaft, hovered at the very tip, and prepared to shoot in rapid torrents of fire.
Sister Anne rocked back and forth with passion and then she felt the hot stream of come released from Ed's prick shoot hot and heavy into her asshole, filling it up and making it all creamy inside. Her asshole quivered and seemed to clutch at the spasming dick with renewed intensity as she felt wave after wave of the come streamed into her.
Ed's fingers played with her cunt some more, and that was enough to bring her off as well. Sister Anne began to grunt and to heave her body in all directions as she enjoyed the exquisite pleasures of a good orgasm, one that left her shaken and weak and trembling, but very happy and contented.
She and Ed lay together on the bed, touching each other and gradually falling asleep. It had been an exciting and invigorating experience for both, and had worn them out more than running the decathlon would have. Sister Anne had pleasant dreams and when she woke in the morning, Ed was gone, having slipped away surreptitiously so as not to be caught by any of the other nuns and especially not by the Mother Superior.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next day was Sister Anne's day off, and she was glad to take a break. She wanted to get away from the orphanage, from the sight of the Mother Superior, from the sight of Brother Mark, and even from Ed, because she strongly felt the need to do some deep and soul-searching introspective thinking.
It was a beautiful blue skied day, and the weather was quite warm for the season, and Sister Anne's eyes swept the scene with something akin to happiness as the bus drove her into downtown Cool Valley. She walked by the park which ran alongside the river, listened to it gurgle and fall over the series of waterfalls that marked its course on its way to the mightier river below.
As she walked, Sister Anne forgot about the blue skies, and she listened neither to the birds singing nor to the sound of children playing and shouting, away in the distance. All that she heard were various inner voices, telling her this, telling her that, contradicting each other, but never hesitating to tell her something. They gave her a headache; she wished they had all gotten together in a conference beforehand to decide upon what to say. This was just too confusing.
There was the voice of her conscience talking, the voice which owed the most to her religious training and her principals. This was the voice whose words she had heeded the most over her lifetime so far, but today, although it spoke in the same forceful and self-assured tone, its advice seemed somehow less to the point, and more questionable.
"You have sinned," the voice told her in no uncertain terms. "What you have done is terrible. It is an affront both to God and to man. You must confess. You must repent. You must never do it again."
"The hell with that. It was fun, wasn't it? Wasn't it the best thing you've ever done? When" have you ever felt as relaxed, as released, as happy? Never! You know that as well as I do. So what could be wrong?" The other voice seemed more persuasive today than it had at any time before. Sister Anne nodded her head in agreement as she listened to it.
"It is the work of the devil," the voice thundered at her, fighting its way past her self-complacency. "It had fooled you and it will lead you to inevitable perdition."
"Remember what Eddie told you about the other nuns? The poor boy is scared out of his wits by the Mother Superior. It is she who has done wrong, not you."
"Oh you foolish girl, how can you doubt the goodness and piety of the Mother Superior, who has been as dear to you as any real mother can be? How can you?"
Sister Anne felt herself growing so distracted that she could no longer think. The voices inside of her head were growing louder, they were no longer talking to her but were talking only to each other. All that Sister Anne could hear was an incomprehensible cauldron of bubbling sound. It was as there was a war going on inside of her, and she found that she could no longer sit still. She had to move, had to go somewhere. Where, she did not know.
Sister Anne found herself walking, found her feet slapping the hard sidewalks in a quick cadence, clack clack clack, like a train, and she moved with the same mechanistic motion. She walked to think; she walked to keep from thinking.
The streets of Cool Valley seemed to blend together, Main Street, Fifth Street, Ardfort Avenue, all became one big blur to her, and although it was a small city in which she had lived for several years, Sister Anne soon found herself lost and could not even guess in which direction her destination, the bus stop, or the orphanage might lie.
Puzzled, and having reached no firm conclusion about anything, Sister Anne began to glance around, looking for someplace to rest. All she saw were rather cold looking buildings, an office building of the sort that might house sales departments of major firms, dentists, land speculators; some garages and a used car lot; one private residence with the windows boarded up; a used record store. One building, however, looked far more appealing than the rest on the block. For one thing, it was fronted by a large green lawn and was very well cared for, clean white clapboards, bright blue flower boxes and sashes, roses growing by the door. Outside of it was a wooden sign supported by a wooden pole, and the sign read, Center for the Study of Native American Religions.
Religions. That must refer to Indians. Sister Anne had always had an interest in other forms of religion, as she felt that any man's efforts to comprehend and to worship God must be in at least some way laudatory. But she had never had much of an opportunity to study other religions as her duties as a nun kept her very busy, and as the Church so firmly regarded itself as being the only true, the only worthwhile religion.
Sister Anne was so tired and bewildered that she figured that if she went inside, she could at least sit and rest and maybe have a cool drink.
Inside the place was quiet. There was a reception desk but nobody sat behind it. Puzzled, Sister Anne began to look around. She walked towards the back of the house, looking into all the rooms, because the doors were all opened.
It was a mess. Desks were littered with piles of papers, which lay also all over the floors. Masks and relics and costumes which she recognized as being Indian in origin, some Mexican, some obviously South American, some Eskimo, perhaps, or Tlingit. Interesting, but why was everything scattered about?
"Hello."
Sister Anne spun on her feet and saw a tall man who was looking at her and smiling. He was slightly dark skinned, rather copper in color, and she could see much of his skin because he was dressed only in a sort of loin cloth around his loins, and an embroidered vest over his chest. He had short black hair and his face, which was rather handsome and distinguished, if a trifle bird-like, was painted with an unusual design on red and blue inter-locking chevrons.
"Are you here for the conference?"
"The conference?" Sister Anne echoed, rather too perplexed and taken off her guard to say anymore.
"Yes. The conference on InterAmerican Religious Tribal Relations. At 4:30 in room 507."
"Yes I am," the Sister replied. Why not? It sounded interesting. Besides, she was very much interested in the man who stood before her. In appearance a man who had just stepped off of the Argentinian pampas, pursued by bolo throwing cowboys for drinking the blood of their steers, in voice he was an English don.
"Then follow me," he said, turning on his heels and leading the way up a spiral staircase.
Sister Anne followed, her eyes holding tight to the man's behind. She found him curiously attractive and noticed that a warm glow was beginning to spread amongst her cunt hairs.
They entered a room whose lights were out, and the only thing that Sister Anne could see was a stealthy glow coming from the front of the room.
"Come with me here," the man said, taking her hand in his and leading her. She heard the shuffling of feet, soft hushed coughing, felt the heat of and smelled the prescence of many people. Soon she found herself standing by the glow, which was a small fire. It lit up her face and made her visible to all in the room, while they, in the darkness, remained invisible to her.
"She has come," the man announced in a loud, precise scholarly voice, to the assembled multitude, "and let us bid welcome to this representative of the great Catholic faith!"
Loud applause rang out. Sister Anne turned around to see the man, and she saw that he was naked, his huge cock plusing in the ghostly glare from the fire.
She heard a whooshing sound, and suddenly, three other women were standing next to her. One was an Indian, one Black, and one an Oriental of some sort. All three were holding what appeared to be straw brooms, the kind that witches are often portrayed as riding upon, and one of them handed one of these instruments to Sister Anne. It had a very short handle. All three women were naked, although the Oriental girl, who was very lovely, with wide eyes and delicate little breasts, wore a golden crown upon her head that looked like it came from Bali or Java.
"The ancient Aztec ceremony will now begin," the man announced, and with that, cock still standing high and proud in the air, he began to leap around, jumping high in the air and flapping his arms all around. It seemed to Sister Anne that he was moving much like a bird.
All of this was very puzzling, but it became much more so when all of the girls began to thrash the man with their brooms. The lifted them high into the air, holding them by their short shaft which gave them excellent leverage and good control, and then brought them down hard on the man's body. He howled in pain, but was evidently not badly hurt, for his painful howls were just part of an odd song which he kept on singing while he danced, a song that was more of an animalistic chant than any real song. Plus the straw bristles were long and they really gave when they hit, so the blows were much muffled.
Sister Anne didn't know what to do. One voice told her to flee, but the other voice told her to stay, and it was this second voice which was the most persuasive, because she didn't know where to go, could hardly see anything, and certainly didn't want to go around stepping on people; she had no idea of what sort of people would be there, except that they would be strange. They might be violent for all she knew; it would certainly not be un-likely.
Plus she found herself growing unaccountably excited by all of this. The man's dick was so tall and strong looking that seeing it turned her on, and the music was hypnotic, as was his dance. She felt out of place because she was not taking part in it, although she was evidently meant to, and she also felt out of place because she was the only one who was wearing any clothing on stage and, for all she knew, perhaps in the entire room.
Impelled by that same inner voice, Sister Anne removed her habit and flung it behind her to stand on the stage absolutely naked. Her skin glowed with the red from the fire, and she looked every inch the Amazon warrior, proud and haughty her tall, shapely, luscious body easily the most attractive and awe inspiring sight there. She breathed heavily, overcome by the excitement, her breasts rising and falling along with her excitement.
The music pounded into her ears, drums played somewhere off stage, where she could not have said as all of her perceptions were becoming distorted and strange. She held the broom in her hands. The man jumped around. Raising it, she brought it down against his skin.
He shrieked with pain. She was afraid that she had hit and damaged his penis, but as he leaped around some more she could see that his penis was still there, still tall, still proud, happily bouncing, so emboldened by this sign, she hit him again, and again, and again.
Growing more and more excited, all four women leaped around on the stage, their breasts bouncing, their asses swaying. The Black girl was very tall and she had short frizzy hair that was soon coated with sweat. Her breasts were not so big as Sister Anne's, but they were impressive nonetheless, and her flanks were long and sinuous. She was the tallest of the four. The Indian girl was somewhat short, and very beautiful, with a full round face and smiling lips, black hair that made her look devilish, especially when she smiled wickedly and thrashed the man roundly with the straw. From the way she really seemed to be into it, Sister Anne judged that she at least was a real Aztec.
The music climaxed and suddenly ended, the man collapsed and lay on a heap on the floor. Before Sister Anne knew what was happening, all three of the women had dropped to their knees and surrounded the helpless dancer, who lay there panting for breath, totally winded and exhausted. It had been a long and violent dance. The Oriental girl began stroking the man's cock which had gotten soft, but now quickly got hard. The Black girl kissed him long on the lips, and the Indian massaged his chest.
Sister Anne felt out of place because she was the only one on the stage who was still standing, so she immediately dropped down too. The dancing and the ceremony had gotten her very excited, but what made her feel the best was that, for the first time all day, the voices had been stilled. It was as if the ceremony had been designed to exorcise them as, in a way, it had, for one of its purposes was just to get rid of all thoughts, and to prepare the way for pure sensual indulgence.
Sister Anne knelt to the floor and reached out, touching the man's thighs with her soft hands. The Oriental girl was sucking on his cock now and Sister Anne felt very jealous looking at her. The man's cock was huge, Sister Anne noticed this as she was so close to it now for the first time, and the little Oriental girl could not take all of its massive length into her mouth. Still, she made a good effort, and Sister Anne could see that the man was certainly enjoying all that she was doing to him.
Her whole head rose and fell along the shaft of his dick, and her eyes were intent on doing it, very serious and yet sensuous too, obviously getting off on it. She held the dick up in her small hand, with red fingernails that glowed from the fire, and then her tongue came out and flickered wildly all over the head of the dancer's cock.
Tired of stroking the man's thighs and looking for some more action, Sister Anne noticed that the black chick was veritably sitting on his face. While his tongue rapidly shot in and out of her cunt. Sister Anne felt her own cunt burning with anxious sympathy, for she could really imagine just how fine that felt to the lucky girl. The Indian was sucking the dancer's nipples. She wondered how he liked that.
So Sister Anne began to stroke his balls with her long fingers, enjoying the way they felt, so lined, like an old man's forehead, but also so strong. She imagined that she could feel the fluids moving around within them, getting ready to shoot into the Oriental girl's mouth. Lucky girl, she again thought.
She could hear sounds coming from the audience, although she was still unable to see anything. From what she heard it seemed to her that what was going on onstage was also going on throughout the room, one immense orgy. The thought of so much sexual activity going on throughout the room got Sister Anne so excited that she paused in her efforts to play with the dancer's balls and began to masturbate, her fingers digging rapidly against her cunt, one finger touching her clit, as her legs dangled waving over the edge of the stage.
This sight must have done the trick, and no surprise, for Sister Anne was quite a sight as she sat there playing with herself. Another man suddenly appeared in the glow of the fire, a tall man with copper skin much like the man who had conducted her to this place, and he ran over to Sister Anne with a big grin on his face.
"Huitlcoatl," He said, which meant nothing to Sister Anne, except that she figured it was the name of one of his gods. But she didn't care what he was talking about. He was naked as the day he was born and his cock was long and hard and that was enough information for her.
All the other girls who had been dancing were busily occupied with fucking or sucking the dancer, so Sister Anne decided to get busy as well. She opened her mouth wide and looked at the new man's dick. Smiling widely, pleased to see that the white girl was joining so well into the spirits of the proceedings, he grabbed his cock in one hand and directed it at Sister Anne's open and willing mouth.
She closed her lips upon the head of his cock. It tasted great, spicy yet with a very subtle aroma, as though he had scented it with rose hips.
Wrapping her arms around the man's waist, Sister Anne let her fingers play upon the healthy expanse of his firm ass, while her mouth sucked his cock with much fervour and passion. It tasted so good that-she tried to swallow as much of it as she could. First she had some difficulty in getting all of it down, and she gagged a little. The prick was just so long that for a moment she doubted whether it would really go down. But she did have such a compelling desire to swallow it all the way down that she figured it must be a natural desire, and if natural it must be possible. So Sister Anne drew her head back a little bit so she just had the tip of the man's cock in her mouth. She let her lips play fondly over this tip for a while, while she marshalled her energy for the greater effort to come. Her tongue flicked out and ran over the cock tip, producing lively sensations.
Then she thought that she was ready; she felt confident that she would be able to get it all down. After all: why not? With this healthy optimistic attitude, Sister Anne began to swallow his cock.
She used her tongue to guide the long shaft into her mouth, directing it just where her instinct told her it should go for easiest and fullest penetration.
The man-his name was Alfredo-gasped with pleasure as he felt more and more of his long cock sink into the beautiful woman's mouth. She was really the most beautiful woman there and he felt himself to be highly privileged to have her suck his cock. He never expected she would do such an expert, full hearted job on it: that was a kind of bonus, like gravy on his mashed potatoes.
Almost down now, Sister Anne thought to herself with pride and with joy. Incredible sensations shot throughout her body. She had never before fully realized the extent to which her mouth could accommodate itself in its, and her, eternal quest for sexual gratification. The penis filled up her mouth and her cheeks ballooned out with the muscular effort to swallow yet more of the amazingly long thing. Her tongue kept working to shove it further and further in.
"Uhhh!" Alfredo grunted with intense pleasure. He could feel all of her sweet and honey-like mouth working away on his sensitive cock, her cheeks expanding and contracting about the shaft, tasting it and squeezing it, providing all sorts of hot wet friction, which really fanned his flame, you bet.
Her fingers, remembering how fine Ed's fingers had felt when they had done the same to her just the night before, began to travel provocatively up the cleft between the man's asscheeks, touching him there with their soft knowledge, teasing him, getting closer ever closer to his asshole.
He plunged his dick in a little bit and felt it hit the back of her throat. Sister Anne felt triumphant, for this meant that the whole immense pole was now inside her mouth! She was ecstatic! She began to suck Alfredo's dick in earnest now, now that she knew that it would go all the way in, now she could really move her head around on it, without being afraid that it would go in wrong, or cause her to gag, or any other fear of that sort. They were banished immediately, all fears, leaving nothing behind but joy and increasing technical proficiency.
She fucked him with her mouth, moving it back and forth with increasing speed, her tongue flailing out in all directions, licking all up and down the length of his magnificent shaft, which soon glowed from excitement and with the moisture from her mouth.
Sister Anne's forefinger began to plunge into the man's asshole. He tensed up at first with sudden pain brought on more by surprise than by anything else, because this was surely something that he did not expect, like whipped cream poured on top of his gravy. But once he knew what the fine broad beneath him was doing, and he had time to feel it, to appreciate the sensuous pleasure of being fucked in the ass by her delicate little finger, then he went wild with renewed bursts of passion, and began to buck his pelvis forward, fucking her in the mouth.
Sister Anne's cunt was so hot and wet that it felt as though it was going to explode. She really wanted this man to fuck her, so she figured that if she hurried up and got him to shoot his load soon in her mouth, then he would be ready and willing to fuck.
"Uhhhh!" he moaned very loudly as Sister Anne increased the speed with which her mouth and tongue and lips were working away at his long shaft, bobbing her head up and down like a crazy woman. Then just for a change of pace she removed her head from his cock, looked at the long, pulsating penis for a second, just to admire its beauty, and then, holding the cock in her hands, holding it by its quite thick base, her tongue began to flicker wildly out of her mouth and to wash and kiss and lick it like an ice cream cone, one that was melting quickly so it had to be eaten quickly. Eat it quickly she did.
Alfredo grunted with intense satisfaction at all that she was doing to him. This was one hot broad. He could feel the pools of come gather and rise up the length of his cock, an accustomed journey and one which always produced in him the most intense feelings of pleasure, especially by anticipating how fine it would feel as soon as the come was released, and as he had an extremely long cock, it was a journey that took a fair length of time, giving him lots of opportunity to savour every part of it, to really bask in the warm glow which the journey of the come up the stem of his cock produced throughout his whole body.
"I'm coming! Oh, I'm coming!" he grunted and squealed, as he felt the come pause for a very brief instant right at the tip of his cock.
As Sister Anne heard this she again seized his cock with her lips and closed them tightly around his cock tip, determined this time not to let any of that precious creamy fluid escape through her lips but to preserve it all. She had heard that it was a sin to waste, and this was one fine substance which she definitely did not want to waste, but she wanted to swallow it all down just as she had swallowed down all of his cock, where it would warm up her belly, warm up her whole person and make her feel even sexier and crazier than she felt now.
"Aaaughhh!" he shouted as the come welled up and out of him and went shooting off into the attractive woman's willing mouth in geyser after geyser of white cream, scalding her with its psychic force as it flowed like hot lava down her throat and seemed to fill her stomach up. She had to work almost harder than before to keep it all inside her mouth, closing her lips tightly together to keep any of it from escaping, but she liked doing it for it brought all of her facial muscles into play, providing maximum contact between her lips and his cock, creating a very friction-full surface for his cock to travel across as it shot its load of come.
"Oh! That was good! Yeah!" Alfredo said, grabbing the girl and sinking down next to her on the floor. All the while she was sucking his cock he could see her body reflected in the red glow coming from the fire, and when her lips gave him time to think at all, the only thoughts that he found occuring to him concerned fucking her and touching her body all over with his eager hands, because she was just such a hunk of sexy womankind that he wanted her more than anything he had ever seen.
"Oh!" she moaned, as she felt Alfredo's lips close upon her right nipple. What a man he was! Her arms cradled his head as he commenced to show her what a real Latin lover could do. His tongue was all over her. It felt as though he had two tongues, three tongues, five tongues. Just as she thought that one of her breasts was about to dissolve like a lump of sugar from too much fervent tonguing, Sister Anne found that her other breast was equally soaked and ready to melt away. Truly, she began to feel as though her whole body was just one huge, seething mass of molten metal. Certainly her insides were that way, a cauldron of bubbling and boiling fluids.
And he was not content merely to suck on her tits; he had grander designs on her, all of which seemed to involve new parts of her body in new ways.
He got her down on the stage, lying there on the wrestler's mat, and began plunging his avid tongue onto her ear. It amazed her and struck her as a very bizarre thing to do. At first it tickled her, so she laughed and shook her head, trying to drive him away from her ears, thinking he was just teasing her, in a nice way of course. But he kept on running his long tongue around the soft part of her earlobe, and then he let it plunge into the middle of her ear very slowly, repeatedly, and she felt all hot and wet there and started to feel very good, real sexy. So she knew that he had just shown her still another erogenous zone. Better yet, the sensations which his tongue was producing there were so intense that she just knew they would prove to be so memorable that she would remember all about the ear and what it could be used for. No need to have a notebook.
"Oh, that feels so good," she cooed.
"I thought you would like it. Do it to me," he urged her, and she responded avidly, while Alfredo rolled around on the floor, loving it.
They bumped into another pile of people. It was the first dancer and his three girls, and they were really into some hot and heavy scenes, so much so that they barely noticed Sister Anne and Alfredo.
The dancer was fucking the black girl in her cunt while the Oriental girl, black hair full of moisture so that it gleamed in the firelight, was kissing the black girl's ass, while the Indian was avidly kissing and sucking the dancer's asshole, her mouth and her whole face virtually glued to his behind. Loud slurping noises erupted from various points about this configuration of love.
But Sister Anne and Alfredo were not jealous. Alfredo not even jealous at the dancer, whose name was Raoul, for they were old buddies, having three girls to Alfredo's one. Alfredo rightly considered Sister Anne the finest woman in the room, and more than a match for any three of the rest put together. No, he had no complaints.
Alfredo's fingers delved deeply into Sister Anne's cunt, feeling how soft and squishy she was down there, and how absolutely delightful. His throbbing prick urged him to get inside of her very quickly, and as it was Alfredo's invariable pursuit to always follow the dictates of his prick, he commenced to put it in.
Getting between her parted thighs, Alfredo directed his long cock at that holy opening between every woman's legs and began to shove it in.
Sister Anne groaned with intense passion and feelings of incipient satisfaction as she felt the long cock begin to cleave her cunt, and she opened her legs yet wider still to give it more room to get in, and for it to get in faster, for she felt a kind of curious itching rising to her consciousness from some place far back inside her cunt, an urging for the cock to get all the way in and touch bottom, a cry of pain and passion, a call for some much needed sexual attention, the kind of attention that could only be provided by the kind of hard masculine cock that was at that very second, like the hero in some old fashioned cowboy movie, on its way to the rescue.
"Oh, yes! Oh! Yes, darling! Give it to me! Oh, harder!" she called out.
The prick was all the way in, and now Alfredo commenced to use it. He pulled it out and Sister Anne gasped with the sudden fear that the prick would be leaving her, but it was an enjoyable fear, like one produced at a horror movie as opposed to one produced by a real horror, for she had faith that he had no intention of pulling his prick out, but was only pulling it back in order to drive it forward again. Which he did.
"Ooooh!" she grunted loudly as again the prick hit bottom, seeming to scrape some of the soft, mucous-like inner skin right away with the force of its harsh thrust.
Her arms wrapped tightly about the man's muscular body. As he moved forward and back she could feel the delightful and powerful force of his many muscles, all working together, like a well-oiled machine, a fucking machine.
Her legs raised themselves up in the air and wrapped about him as well, as Alfredo continued to fuck her with a passion, the exquisite joy of how it felt to have his dick buried inside of her fine juicy cunt written plainly all over his face for all to see.
"Oh! Oh! Oh my!" she exclaimed, as the feelings of sexual satisfaction just grew and grew. Just as she thought they were at their height and couldn't possibly go any further, just then she felt his hard masterful cock hit another part of her cunt, one which she had never before even realized that she had. It was truly amazing the things which Alfredo and his trust prick could do.
"Harder! Harder!" she urged him on, as if the demons had possessed her again. But it was only his prick which was at fault, the demons were all far away.
Next to them on the stage, the dancer Raoul was sucking the cunt of the Indian girl. Her head was thrown back wildly in a position of the utmost ecstasy. It was bent in a position which at any other time would surely cause her a fair bit of actual pain, for her body was being supported by her thighs being held in the man's grip as his head burrowed like an animal between her legs, his tongue kissing her all over her cunt. Her whole body curved backward in the air and her head almost touched the floor. It was really something to see.
The Black girl and the Oriental were making love to each other, locked in a 69 embrace, heads to each other's cunts, lapping and kissing and sucking with all of their feminine mights, and each doing a really fine job of turning on the other, if one could judge by the screams and moans of ecstasy that arose from each whenever they had a free mouth.
But Sister Anne didn't care what else was going on on stage. Elephants could have been fucking mules and she wouldn't have noticed. Nor would Alfredo. Alfredo usually had quite a cool head about, and was a real lover, so he knew how to play things cool, but in this case all of his cool was absolutely gone, for the raw vitality and feminine beauty of this woman was really driving him crazy, taking him absolutely beyond himself. He couldn't even have told you his name at several points during his hot bout with Sister Anne's willing flesh and hot, lustful body, which responded instantly to every move he made, and which created many of these same moves. They were locked together as an indissoluble whole.
Locked in a heated embrace, he kept pounding his load of meat into Sister Anne's quivering cunt, which gave for everything it received, as only a heated cunt can give. He felt exquisite pleasure attend every hard thrust of his cock, as her cunt walls contracted tightly about his prick and veritably oozed and shimmied around it, doing a kind of primitive dance to keep his cock entertained and merry. It has, in fact, been stated by various scholars who had studied such things that the entire art of dancing had its most basic origins with in the female body, in the movements of the cunt walls both during the act of sexual intercourse and also at the moment of giving birth. Neither Sister Anne nor Alfredo had ever heard of these theories, of course, but that did not prevent them from acting them out, as they were now doing.
"Harder! Fuck me harder! Oh! Yes!"
Sister Anne wanted more and more and more. She could not get enough of his mighty cock, no matter how hard he thrusted it into her, she wished he would do it harder.
Hard and fast, it kept on coming, hesitating only long enough to provide the rhythmic variation that makes every fuck an individual experience.
She clutched him as tightly as she could, her big tits rubbing all over Alfredo's sweating hairy chest. They felt so good there, so soft and juicy and resilient.
His cock moved backward and then plunged all the way in, and as it did so, Alfredo felt the dam burst.
"Eee-auggh!" he shouted as sperm began to shoot out of him. It flowed in a heavy and constant stream into the back reaches of Sister Anne's eagerly expectant cunt.
Sister Anne was not yet quite ready to come, even though she had been mercilessly pounded by his cock for quite some time now, plus had been really excited by the dancing, by the beatings with the straw, and by the acts of oral copulation which had been taking place. But she certainly appreciated receiving the man's hot come. It got her even more excited than she was already, and she bucked up and down lewdly, twisting her entire body from side to side in an excess of lust, loving every second of it.
Alfredo's cock kept on jerking and shooting his come into her, and then suddenly it plopped out. Still shooting come, the cock jerked upward in the air and both watched as the creamy fluid flew high into the air, landing in hot globules on Sister Anne's thighs and on her wasp-like waist and on her quivering belly, hot and sexy. Her fingers reached down and touched the come in wonder and with pleasure, and she happily rubbed it all over her excited flesh, feeling the softness and the heat of it, how sticky it was. She loved it because it accompanied the act of fucking and as thus associated in her mind with one of the greatest pleasures which she had ever known.
"Oh, yeah," Alfredo said, "so good. You're a real honey, you know that? I could fuck you all day, all week, hell, even for a month." He smiled at her sweetly as he said this.
"Yummmm," she responded, her hands touching his cock and jerking it upward. She still had an orgasm coming, and she wanted something to help it along.
"It might take a few minutes," he admitted ruefully. "That was really one hell of a workout you gave me, young woman."
"Oh, I need it! I need your prick inside me! I need it now!" She said it with such intensity in her voice that Alfredo knew that something had to be done, and soon, too. She kept on jerking his cock up and down with her fingers desperately. This told Alfredo that she was getting ready to come, cock or no cock, so she had better get one soon if she were to experience the maximum benefits.
So, never being a jealous man, Alfredo turned to the audience, an audience which, blanketed as it was in almost total darkness, Sister Anne had forgotten it was there. He asked, "Would one of you gentlemen like to come up here and fuck this young lady for a few moments? Just until I ... ahem...." he was too embarrassed to refer any more to the temporary infirmity of his prick, which lay there limpid and still.
There was a rapid stir from the audience, and Sister Anne suddenly blushed to realize that hundreds, if not more, people had actually been watching, with intense interest no doubt, her performance.
But her embarrassment did not last for long, for it was rapidly overcome by sexual longings and desires as she saw three tall men approach the stage.
"Just one," Alfredo said, ever the maestro. He pointed to the tallest and best-looking of the men, a handsome mulatto of Caribbean extraction. "You."
The man leaped eagerly onto the stage. His long dick immediately began to grow to its full erect size, and Sister Anne's eyes were hypnotically drawn to it. She watched it grow large with fascinated wonder, for seeing a man's dick grow from a small thing to something huge, and all by itself, too, was still something new enough to her experience to be endlessly fascinating.
"Wonderful," she breathed.
"You are too," the new man said, "you're the best woman I've ever seen."
That was nice, but Sister Anne had no time for compliments. Her cunt was giving her no rest. It demanded a cock, and demanded one now.
She spread her legs wide and the man came to her, holding his dick in his hand. Within seconds, knowing her passion, he had slipped it right in. And as soon as he got it in he commenced to fuck her.
This too was something new in Sister Anne's experience, to be fucked in rapid succession by two different men. They fucked her the same way, sort of; in and out, that sort of thing. But she was surprised to notice how different each of them felt, how different their pricks felt, and their mode and style of operation as well, this too affected her physical sensations. Now Alfredo had been quite different from young Ed, but since those two acts had taken place at a distance in time and space from each other, it was harder to precisely gauge the difference. Not that Sister Anne was much inclined to rate any of her new lovers, for they all made her feel great, and she loved young Ed so much that she just couldn't imagine anyone making her feel better; there was a large psychic component to her, or to anyone's pleasure, that rules out absolute quantitative judgment. But here she could certainly appreciate two different styles of fucking, and enjoy them both. It was a true education.
As this new man fucked her his hands grabbed both of her tits at once and squeezed them rhythmically. It was her tits that had done the most to attract him to her, and that had instantly compelled him to race up to the stage as soon as he had heard Alfredo's kind offer. He got off on big breasts.
His strong fingers surrounded Sister Anne's nipples and played with them incessantly, and Sister Anne felt churning sensations rise in her breasts and shoot from there throughout her entire person, like rapid-fire machine gun bullets ripping through her interior flesh.
Then he started to suck her tits, and she liked that even more, his big lips sucking her nipples and her aureoles as deeply into his mouth as he could imagine, and his tongue then running out all over the nipples, drenching them and getting them hard and pointed, like knives.
"Yes! Oh, yes! Yes!" was all that Sister Anne could say, as his hard cock kept driving into her.
He was in a strange position, motivationally speaking, for he wanted to give her pleasure but on the other hand he wanted to keep on fucking her, and he knew that if he gave her too much pleasure she would come right away, and he had just started fucking her, after all.
But he was a nice guy, and realized that his desires, however strong they might be, and they were in fact quite fierce, were wholly secondary to the pleasure of this woman, for she was the star of the show, the star of the whole evening, and he had been brought up there solely as an aide, as a person hauled out of the audience, as on a TV variety show, for minor interest, for a few laughs, to show the folks at home that the stars of the show are real people, too. He had, in short, a very subsidiary role to play, which might be enjoyable, but must not be allowed to take over.
Having decided this, his course was set. His cock rode in and out of her with renewed fury, and it was with a sense of intense gratification that he felt her cunt clasp his cock spasmodically as an orgy of pleasure passed across her features, and to hear her hoarse sexual grunts and shouts.
"Ahhhh! Ahhh! Ahhh-Eeee!"
Her face contorted with pleasure as her body writhed uncontrollably from side to side. Her orgasm had her now, and as it held her in its firm grip, it held, too, the attention of every eye in the house. All other action had stopped to witness this stupendous scene. Sister Anne was like a woman possessed, and her shouts were loud enough to reach heaven, loud enough to raise the dead.
Her coming so excited the man that he, too, began to quiver all over, and then his cock shot its load right into her quivering essence, which only served to make Sister Anne come the more, convulsed with wave after wave of lewd lust. Then she collapsed and immediately passed out, short-circuited by too much pleasure too soon.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning Sister Anne awoke back in her room at the orphanage with only a foggy idea of how she had arrived there. She remembered the scene on the stage, the orgy, easily enough. Then she remembered drinking wine, and fucking another man ... or was it two men? And then looking for her habit, and finding it torn and disheveled. How would she get back? One of the men was kind, and under cover of darkness he and his car had spirited her back to the orphanage, where she had managed to crawl into her room without being noticed. She had been lucky.
Mixed up with many conflicting thoughts, Sister Anne didn't know just what to do or what to think. She was really ashamed of what had happened the night before. It had been really scandalous. Yet she had enjoyed it so much! The only conclusion which Sister Anne could draw about her delight in the grotesque orgy was that many years of sexual repression demanded some such outlet in which to totally break free of her old hang ups. She just hoped that she would never again have to go through something like that. Being on display for public enjoyment! Horrible!
Troubled as she was, Sister Anne found the old routine of her life calling out to her, like the welcome loving voice of her mother. She dressed and walked down the long corridors to the chapel.
Entering its cool familiar sanctuary, subtly darkened and smelling of the familiar incense, Sister Anne approached the fount, dipped in her hand to the holy water, and touched it to her forehead, her shoulders, making the sign of the cross. This was an action she had done many times of course, touching the fluid to her flesh, but somehow today it felt different, it reminded her of something, but what? Then she knew. It felt like come!
Shaking off this disagreeable sensation, which only recalled to her protesting mind the public humiliation which she had undergone the night before, Sister Anne approached her accustomed pew.
She genuflected before getting into the pew, trying to keep her mind on the Lord and to push all else aside. That was the virtue of the chapel, that it was a sanctuary, a refuge from the world outside, a place where you could be alone with your thoughts and with Jesus Christ.
But she felt something pushing against her thigh, something heavy. It felt like a man's hand! She looked-it was nothing but the rosary, hanging at its accustomed place alongside her thigh, as light as ever. What was she imagining?
Getting into the pew, Sister Anne kneeled down to pray. She recalled the words earlier in the week spoken by the Mother Superior in her address to the young nuns: "Say your rosaries this week for the poor souls in Tai Pei." Yes, Sister Anne thought, that would be the right thing to do, it would be a good way also of getting her mind off her own problems, to think about and pray for those who were even less fortunate, much less fortunate in fact, people who had to really suffer.
Sister Anne kissed the Cross which hung at the end of her rosaries. As she did this, it occurred to her, being in the mood and all, that it would be a good time to do the Five Sorrowful Mysteries. She was not at all in the mood for the Five Joyful Mysteries, and especially not for the Five Glorious Mysteries.
The crown of thorns, the whipping, the burden of the Cross, the blood, the scourge, all of these images flew into her mind, images having to do with the Saviour of mankind, images which seemed to her to be her just deserts for having abandoned all that she had been taught concerning God's will.
She concentrated with all of her might on her prayers, saying each Sorrowful Mystery when she came to the appropriate bead on the rosay, intent on praying, producing very intense Our Fathers and Hail Marys. She was so intent on this that she scarcely heard or saw or in any way noticed when Brother Jerome came in and knelt down onto his knees just a few feet down the pew from her. Nor did she notice his eyes, as they turned to regard her with more than mere Brotherly interest.
Sister Anne continued to pray, but somehow the magical effects of the prayers upon her troubled psyche failed to work, and she found her thoughts drifting back to the scenes that had taken place the night before, to scenes of the orgy, and again she saw hot glistening male bodies and long, lithe cocks, standing high and tall in the firelight.
She shook her head vigorously to clear these horrible images away. In so doing her eyes came into contact with those of Brother Jerome's, and she noticed that he was not praying either but was looking straight at her with a hard and direct stare. It embarrassed her. She turned away, back to her rosary, but this time she really could not keep her mind at it at all. She felt his eyes still upon her, and although she liked Brother Jerome, as he was young and strong and friendly, the coach of the boy's basketball team, still his eyes upon her distracted her, and made her think even more of all sorts of disgusting vile things.
Now knowing how else to escape his unwanted and uncalled for attentions, Sister Anne stood up and decided to do the Stations of the Cross. This ritual would necessitate her walking about the chapel to each of the different stations, and would take her away from the distracting presence of Brother Jerome.
Her thoughts returned to their well-frequented paths, those of religiousity and of pity, pity for Jesus, who was forced to carry the Cross. It was so heavy, he knelt so low under its weight, his face was strained with the exertion and the pain.
Footsteps behind her, hot breath against her neck. Sister Anne did not turn and she did not look to see why. It was her burden, her Cross to bear.
The Stations of the Cross. Christ wearing the Crown of Thorns. How it dug into his flesh! Cutting him! She could see the red blood, oozing out of the scrapes and cuts. It looked like come. No! It didn't look like come, had no resemblance to come. She felt hot breath on her cheek. Could Brother Jerome be following her? She wanted to turn her face, to look and see if it was indeed Brother Jerome, whose breath she could hear, so close to her ear. But her head was immobile, as though sculpted in rock.
Concentrate on Jesus and his sufferings and all will be well. Forget the feelings of lust. They are the work of the devil. But Sister Anne could no longer heed these voices. Despite herself, her face turned, expecting to see the devil, expecting to see ... Brother Jerome!
Their eyes met and locked tightly together. Again Sister Anne felt as if she had been frozen in time, as if the muscles of her body no longer functioned. She was afraid of this man whose steely gray eyes held hers as in a trance. Her knees felt weak and her body began to tremble slightly. She wanted to stop it, to control it, but she could not. She had no control over herself at all. And she found herself growing excited, sexually excited, a kind of wet lust-oozing up from between her legs and infecting her whole body as it traveled. First her belly felt it, and began to shake slightly, but perceptibly, moving as if already in the throes of sexual passion. Then her breast began to heave, and her nipples grew erect. Brother Jerome just stared at her, and he smiled. Did he know the thoughts and feelings passing through her body? Her neck now, too, was excited, but her brain was still repulsed by the whole situation, frightened by Brother Jerome's almost overpowering sexual nearness, angered at his smug expression, as he leered at her.
Her face began to glow with an unholy fire as the sexual desire continued to spread upward. Her mouth opened in a lewd smile, but her brain still rebelled. No, it told her. No, no, no!
Her ears grew warm and she could feel hot wind whistling through her, a wind which blotted out the negative voices.
Then the sexual desire hit her brain, finally, and then all thoughts were one, one desire, one great need, and she reached out her arms, which had suddenly come to life and were again under her control-or were they really under the control of her cunt? It didn't really matter, for they were both, cunt and brain, the same, and working in absolute and exquisite harmony.
Without looking to see if anyone else was in the chapel, Sister Anne's hand grabbed Brother Jerome around his neck and shoulders and drew him to her, in a passionate embrace that was full of suddenly released sexual longing.
Sister Anne moaned with feverish passion, "Oh! Brother Jerome!" Her moans were not without effect upon Brother Jerome, but he suddenly remembered where they were. "Oh, my God! Not here-suppose the Rector was to suddenly come in just as I'm coming! He'd have me horse-whipped!"
"Oh, yes, Brother Jerome, yes, yes! Whip me! Make the blood roll down my face! Just likejust like-our Own Sweet Saviour Jesus-Oh, let me feel what it's like to be tortured-to be scourged and whipped. Oh, my God, yes, whip me!"
He stopped short in sudden surprise. "I, I, I...."
At this point Sister Anne decided to take matters into her own hands. She reached under his cassock and felt a telltale bulge through the layers of coarse cloth. "Ah, ha, so you are turned on too, you would like to really explore the sorrowful mysteries."
Brother Jerome looked abash, "Aw, fuck, Sister Anne, I just want to ram it up your cunt. It's been a mighty long time since I waded into a crazy little bitch of a nun like you."
"Oh, so you have fucked other nuns before!"
Brother Jerome grinned like a fool at that thought and of the fine piece of nookie he was about to get. She was slim but with the firmest tits you could ever hope to see, and actually they weren't all that small, and her trim young legs which he had been dreaming of for the past who-knows-how-many weeks, and her tight young ass that he longed to ram his brick-like prick-"
He came out of his reverie as a sudden sharp pain invaded his balls. "What the...." He started to say, as Sister Anne began to laugh.
"Now you're beginning to get an intimate idea of what it felt like for our Sweet Sweet Baby Jesus!" she burbled out hysterically.
But if the Baby Jesus ever had a set of rosary beads wrapped around his balls and prick, and pulled tight by a nun driven to the absolute edge of human frenzy, it had not come down in any of the gospels.
"I want to see blood dripping down your prick, then I'll lick it off and you can feel the sweet, sweet, bittersweet tingling-Oh the tingling-as my saliva mixes with your salty blood...."
Her crazy talk was beginning to get to him. So what if he was down here in the chapel with a crazy, absolutely sex-crazy nun pulling tight a set of rosary beads around his prick and now she was starting to lick his prick. Oh, wow, this might turn out okay after all, he thought. Of course she was obviously crazy. It was incredible what sexual abstinence could do to you. That was it, of course! She hadn't probably been fucked since she hitched up. Poor kid. She didn't know that celibacy crap was for the birds, and the saints, and the nuts, oh, and maybe the Pope-after all, somebody had to keep up appearances, and the bid guy had everything an old fogey would probably want: money, power. Yeah, all the best ingredients for a choice life, and he didn't even have, to work that much. Politics, it was all politics. Once, not so many years back, Brother Jerome had had fond hopes of becoming Pope. He had a friend in Rome. Ah, but it had never panned out; he never even made Bishop. If only he had learned to kiss ass! Well, maybe he would be able to remedy that failing this very afternoon, for as his hands stole up quickly yet stealthily under Sister Anne's habit, his eager fingers came into intimate contact with a juicy ass that he would just love to kiss, and bite and nibble upon as well. Yes, all of those things, and more, many more. His mouth watered at the thought.
"Sister Anne, I want to kiss your ass," she heard him say, but was too busy to answer back, as her mouth was wrapped tightly around his prick and was moving back and forth in a veritable orgy of voluptuousness.
"Uhhh! Ahhh!" he grunted, feeling her firm lips grab and squeeze his long member, hugging it tightly as her tongue flashed out over its red crown, stiff and hard with lust and with gathering violence of sexual release.
Her head was buried tightly against his genitals and it made quite a strange picture, if anyone had come into the chapel right then, to see a nun with her face burrowing in upon Brother Jerome's cassock, and to hear the slurping sounds which her tongue, lips and cheeks produced.
Her tongue flickered out over the tip of his cock, kissing the point where the seminal fluid shot out, and Brother Jerome winced with pleasure. He no longer worried about anyone coming in. Let them! Let them all see!
As she kissed the very tip of his cock, she wanted more, she wanted the cock to be longer, bigger, to stand out even more from his body. This was rather an unnatural desire, for while Brother Jerome did not possess the largest dick among the Brothers of the Oprhanage (that honor belonged to the Mother Superior's favorite, the afore mentioned Brother Mark) still, his pole was quite sizable and enough to give any girl, even the largest and the biggest cunted, quite a workout.
But Sister Anne's mind was still inflamed both by the Aztec orgy and, even more mysteriously, by the Stations of the Cross. So she grabbed hold of the rosary, which was still wrapped around the base of Brother Jerome's cock and balls, right where they met his groinal region, and while her mouth swallowed down more of his cock, gulping it as if it were a choice morsel of food, she began to pull the rosary tighter, hoping in this way to push the cock right off his body and into her mouth, squeezing it like toothpaste from a tube.
At first Brother Jerome did not even feel this. All of his sensory nerves were more than taken up with just feeling the work which her tongue was doing on his cock tip, for that just felt so fine that there was no room for any other sensations. But Sister Anne kept pulling the rosary tighter and tighter around his cock and balls, and then it began to hurt.
Good as her lips felt, for she was truly giving him about the finest head he had ever experienced, Brother Jerome tried to shove Sister Anne away from him, for he was suddenly beset by the very real and present fear that her tightening of the rosary around his precious tool was about to disconnect it from his body, and then he would never be able to use it again. No! That could not be!
"Stop! Stop! Please stop!"
But his cries were to no avail, and her hands tightened the rosary still more, as her mouth tried to suck his dick right off his body. This was not characteristic of Sister Anne at all, not of her personality nor of her habits. We can only excuse her on this occasion by remembering the state to which her nerves had been carried by the quick and awesome series of events.
Brother Jerome was strong, and thought he was afraid that if he pushed her head away she would clasp her teeth down upon his prick and bite it right off, a particularly horrible fear, as any man who has ever felt it will readily attest, still he knew that if he didn't do something he would lose his prick anyway. It was already turning blue from lack of blood.
So he shoved her away from him by twisting her shoulders painfully and pushing. Sister Anne suddenly fell upon the floor, bouncing her ass with a great jolt. The jolt seemed to wake her from her trance.
"What?" she exclaimed, looking up past his blue and trembling prick, still draped with the rosary, into his astonished face.
"You were about to remove my sexual member from my body, my dear," he said gently, befitting his role as a gentle messenger of Jesus.
"Oh, my," was all she could say, highly embarrassed and hardly knowing what to expect of herself next.
"Come then, let us a find a more appropriate location for our discussion. Let us say, in this side chapel?" Brother Jerome indicated a chapel which had been decorated many years previously by a very rich patron, who had hired a famous artist, circa 1890, to paint a picture of Saint Sebastian, arrows in his breast, with the patron and his wife praying at the Saint's feet, as was the custom in paintings of the 15th Century. Brother Jerome liked this chapel a lot because it possessed long pews which were wide enough to accommodate his girth (he weighed 230 pounds of hard muscle), and also because the pews had soft cushions along their entire lengths. But most of all he liked it because it was only rarely used for anything other than what he intended to use it for now.
"Come, my dear," he repeated, reaching down and taking Sister Anne by her hand, hoisting her to her pretty little feet, and leading the way into the intimate chapel. Just walking into it always got him hot because of the memories of fine times he had there.
His dick still standing out like a flagpole, he led the young nun to the pew and she sat down. His dick stared her in the face, and Brother Jerome would have liked it if she had closed her lips upon it immediately and recommenced to suck, despite his recent fears of his cock being mutilated. But for some unknown reason Sister Anne did not do this. Unknown to him, at the sight of Saint Sebastian, who had suffered so much because of his faith, Sister Anne was suddenly overcome with self-loathing, and as she looked at Brother Jerome and his immense cock staring her in the face, she was overcome with shame at the extent to which the Blessed Church had fallen in these sad, modern times, and she no longer wanted to be a part of these doings.
"What's wrong?" Brother Jerome asked, sitting down next to her on the pew, his prick gradually subsiding as it realized it would not be getting any of her feminine attentions too quickly.
She said nothing, just looked up tearfully at the image of the Saint, looking at the arrows.
Brother Jerome's hands touched her shoulders and began to work the habit down off them, revealing the soft pink flesh which so enchanted all of his libidinous senses.
His hands stroked her shoulders, continally shoving the habit further and further down the nun's body, until her two massive tits leaped into view, a very appropriate verb because as they cleared the habit, the released force as it pushed past them caused the breasts to wobble and jiggle in momentous fashion, moving like to startled deer in a forest clearing. Brother Jerome could then tell that while Sister Anne's mind might be upon Saint Sebastian, her body was certainly thinking about sex, for her two nipples were as pert and as ready and as erect as any two nipples could be.
"You're beautiful," he expostulated.
Sister Anne did not even hear him. Her mind was far away, both in space and time.
His hands touched her tits gently and caressed them lovingly, admiring xhe way they touched his hands with their nipples, as if her nipples were little fingers reaching out to him, and he really dug the way they rebounded to his touch.
Touching them harder, Brother Jerome squeezed the milky white flesh and pressed in, molding her breasts as if they were made of clay.
Still Sister Anne said nothing and did not move. Her body as a whole did not respond, only her breasts. But they glowed!
"So fine!" Brother Jerome moaned happily, as he brought his lips down to her nipples. His tongue darted out across each nipple in turn, moistening it, feeling its hardness against his soft tongue.
"Yum," he said.
Then he took as much of her left breast into his mouth as he could, which still left quite a bit out of course, for her breasts were not getting any smaller; they were getting bigger, if anything, because of all the sexual attention they had been receiving recently. His lips pulled the tit in and his cheeks distended themselves to receive as much of the curvaceous, soft, tasty flesh as he could manage, sucking it right in. His tongue never stopped moving and licking and kissing and tasting, traveling all over every part of her left breast.
"Our Father...." Sister Anne said, praying, her eyes looking heavenward, trying not to think about what was happening to her body in this world, but only of the Holy World in the Sky.
Meanwhile Brother Jerome's hands were pulling her habit further off of her fine body, anxiously now and in a rush, because the more of her firm, peachy flesh he saw, the more he wanted to see.
The habit slipped to the floor and lay there in a black puddle. Sister Anne's shapely pink and white ankle rose out of the midst of this like two pillars reaching to the sky, and stood there immobile, as Sister Anne desperately tried to disassociate her mind from what was happening to her body.
Brother Jerome gasped with unfeigned delight as all of Sister Anne's lovely nakedness strode into view. Her fine big ass was so delicious that he almost fell to eating it right then, but first he forebore long enough to let his eyes roam eagerly across her body, reveling in its amazing fleshiness and firmness.
Sister Anne could no longer keep her mind away from what was happening to her body. The feelings which had been building up in her cunt could not be resisted any more, especially as soon as she felt Brother Jerome's hot breath whip across her ass. Some of it blew right up between the cleft of her asscheeks, and she could feel its hot power blowing right against her sensitive asshole. This sent tingles throughout her body, and caused goose bumps to form on the delicate flesh of her arms and calves, causing her to shiver all over and almost fall down.
"Oh, Sister, oh!" Brother Jerome moaned softly, as his lips began to kiss her ass all over, firm hard wet kisses, that let his tongue slip out between his lips to wipe her ass softly, as if he was worshipping her, and the more he did it the more Sister Anne came to feel as a kind of Goddess, as a Saint, she began to see herself, instead of Saint Sebastian, in the painting above the altar. So the religious feelings which had been coursing through her body all morning became manifest now as a feeling of sexuality, and they were centered upon her cunt, which blazed with a newly found fire.
She felt the Brother's tongue lapping at her asshole now, and she knelt down a little bit to give him easier egress to this sensitive and hidden spot of her anatomy. His tongue flew in and out of it, lapping away gently yet with a steady force that was driving her wild.
"Oh, yes! Yes! Kiss me! Kiss me there! Yes! You're doing it well! Oh yes!" Sister Anne moaned out in low tones, not wanting to attract the attention of whatever new worshippers were coming into the Chapel, wanting to be alone with Brother Jerome and to feel his tongue all over her body. Gone were any thoughts of protest. Sister Anne was as desirous of this now as was the Brother.
Brother Jerome rose to his feet, his huge cock standing out and jabbing Sister Anne in the belly. His face was red with sexual excitement, and he was breathing heavily.
"Sister Anne," he said, "You are the finest nun in the world. I'm crazy about you. I always have been. But you were always so...."
"Cold?" she finished his hesitating sentence,, His look did not contradict her words. She looked at him triumphantly. "Well, I'm not cold any more. I'm hot as hell, randy, and ready to go. So let's go!"
That was all Brother Jerome needed to know. His prick didn't even need that. It was hard and hot and already digging into her belly, searching for an entrance, an ass, a cunt, a mouth, any kind of entrance, it just wanted in and didn't care how.
"The pew!" he exclaimed, leading her there. It was only a few inches away, so they made it without any trouble, his prick trembling all the while.
He lay her down upon the pew and Sister Anne spread her legs wide, parted thighs moving slowly from side to side, enticingly, urging Brother Jerome on.
Grasping his long cock between his fingers, Brother Jerome aimed it at her cunt.
"Take your cassock off first. I want to see you nude," she said in lewd tones, halting Brother Jerome's progress, but getting him very excited, making him realize that he turned her on as much, or almost as much as she turned him on.
"Yes, yes, right away," he answered her, as a little boy answers his mother who has just told him to wash up before eating his dinner.
In a jiffy the cassock was off, and laying on top of Sister Anne's habit on the floor, just as within seconds Brother Jerome would be laying on top of Sister Anne on the pew's soft, velvet cushion, which was already come-stained from many such sessions in the past.
Her cunt was red and glowing with need, and Brother Jerome's prick found it easily, instantly, and began to burrow inside, as the Brother crouched between her legs, feeling the heat from her crotch spread out to warm him up.
"Ahhh! Oh, so good!" she cooed as she felt the hard tip of his cock split open her cunt lips and began to penetrate deeply into her.
She shifted her hips, to allow him to penetrate more easily, and to get herself comfortable on the pew. It was a soft cushion, but still this was not the best fucking spot in the world, not like a bed, for example.
"Oh, your cunt is fine! So tight, so sensuous," he said to her, as he felt it penetrate all the way in. He was pushing it in slowly, as he wanted to experience all of her cunt in great detail, in close-up, as it were.
But Sister Anne was so enflamed by his cock as it entered into her that she urged him on, she needed all of it inside her right away.
"Faster! Harder! Yes, like that! Yes! More! Yes! Fuck me harder! Faster!"
Her cries were like an insane litany, like a primitive chant that had no end. She cried out to Heaven and thrashed about, as the prick slid deeper and deeper into her cunt.
Having gotten his cock all the way down to the bottom, Brother Jerome shoved it around, exploring all of the soft places within her cunt. Now he wanted to give her one hell of a fine fucking, so in order to get leverage he got his hands beneath her firm fleshy ass and began to lift it up into the air. His knees were on the pew's cushion, so as he lifted her up, all the while keeping his cock buried deeply in her honeypot, he grabbed her legs and pushed them back, back, toward her head, so that her ass faced him and his cock in her cunt had full freedom of movement, and he was in complete control, able to fuck her any way he wanted, and as hard as he wanted, as hard as she wanted, as hard as it was possible for man to fuck woman, for that was as they both wanted it.
This was a new position for Sister Anne, and she relished it. She could feel his cock running against places of her cunt that had never felt a cock before, and it felt great, so great that she almost fainted with the pleasure.
"That feels nice. Yes, very nice," she moaned softly, her lips scarcely opening, her eyes half closed. She looked to be as contented as a kitten, sunning itself on a window sill.
"It's one of the best positions for complete contact and full access," Brother Jerome explained to her, with much the same tone as he used to the students in his economics class. But he fucked her with real gusto, that belied that rather impersonal tone. And besides, feelings of such near heavenly bliss were floating through Sister Anne's body that she discerned no coldness in his tone, discerned nothing but cock.
Sister Anne looked so full and womanly beautiful beneath him as he fucked her, that Brother Jerome reached out with his hands and fondled her breasts as they jiggled all around, like a couple of tops, under the onslaught of his heavy prick, as it rammed and rammed into her honey cunt, making the cream rise and splash out of her in torrential, sudden bursts, like summer showers in the tropics, the kind of rains that accompany the monsoons.
"Eeee! Ohhh!" she moaned, lost in a world of feeling, no longer aware she was in the chapel, thinking of nothing but cock and of what a really fine man Brother Jerome was.
His fingers played with her ass now, feeling the weight of it in his hands as he hoisted her sweet bottom high into the air and bobbled her around like a basketball, but a basketball with a cunt.
His fingers slid up the route between her asscheeks which was, next to her cunt, the warmest and most invigoratingly sexual part of her body. She quivered with expectation as his fingers approached her cunt, and her expectations were not disappointed or frustrated, for as his finger reached her asshole rather than just stop there, it began to manipulate it.
"Yes! Oh yes!" she called out, pleased to discover that Brother Jerome was truly, as he had given promise of being, a real ass man, and that was good to her because she loved her ass being touched.
His fingers first played lightly upon her asshole, touching it repeatedly as if it were a tiny finger drum, the kinds used in various African bands. As he patted out a tympanic message against her asshole, the rhythm spread through her body and exploded in loud noises inside her head, making her dizzy with an increment of lust.
"Ohhhh," she moaned, as though dying.
Brother Jerome let his index finger slide slowly into her asshole. A brief surge of pain was rapidly replaced by complete plasure within Sister Anne as the finger rode in deeper and deeper, as she felt herself being fucked by his cock in her cunt and his finger in her asshole, fucked twice at once, the best possible sensation for any woman, let alone a once uptight nun, to feel.
"Yesss," she hissed, like a snake.
Brother Jerome felt completely in control now, as if he could make this woman do whatever he wanted her to. Pleasure was the key, using it, man could always control a woman. It was his only hope.
He drove his dick into her with every greater fierceness and speed, proud to be man and glad to be alive, exulting in the force of his dick and in the way it was able to drive this incredibly beautiful woman absolutely wild with passion.
"Yes! Yes! Oh! Oh!"
Sister Anne's cunt was now a seething cauldron of juices that had been stirred so much they managed to heat way beyond the boiling point without boiling over which only meant that when they finally were released, it would be with a really awe-inspiring, almost frightening intensity.
Brother Jerome was aware of that, even more so than poor Sister Anne. He knew what was in store for her, but she just kept riding with it blindly, like a surfer on a real fine immense dangerous wave, who is so hypnotized by the exulting feeling of the surf that he forgets all about the dangers that awaits him when the wave finally breaks.
His index finger plunged in and out of her tight, juicy asshole, so hot with passion, and his cock rode in and out of her cunt, both with very similar rhythms, so that Sister Anne lost track of which was which, did not know what was happening to her, only that it was fine.
The walls of her cunt contracted spasmodically around Brother Jerome's ever thrusting hard cock, making a friction full bed for his cock to ride in and out of, and her legs kept thrashing about lewdly in the air.
Her cunt grabbed his cock with such force and speed that Brother Jerome new that she was getting ready to come. He couldn't wait. It would not really be a rare and entrancing sight to see Sister Anne, not only the best-looking nun, but one of the most spectacular women he had ever seen, totally wallowing in lustful excess, absolutely in his control.
Control! The very thought of it gave him pleasure, and got him fucking her with still greater force, so that his cock reared way back into the air and seemed to pause there for a tiny part of a second, to gather new energy, as though soaking it in from the ether, before ramming into her with a fury that few had ever experienced. He was like a wild animal, the way his cock fucked her, with a wild unbridled passion.
"Ahhhh!" she screamed hoarsely, as her orgasm seized her and refused to let go.
Her face had never looked sexier as now, when it was absolutely convulsed with intensely gratified lust. Her eyes were opened wide, shut tight, all within a second; then they opened again.
Her fingernails scraped Brother Jerome's flesh. She was like a mad woman, with no concepts of morals or of good and evil, knowing only the pleasures of the flesh. Her skin broke out in a hot sweat; it bathed her, as after a shower. Her toes curled up tightly, like little babies in the fetal position. Her whole body took on a highly aroused air, and she exuded a strong whiff of unadulterated sex.
Brother Jerome's cock remained firmly embedded in her spasming orgasmic cunt, like a hard rod buried deep in a volcano as it spewed forth its hot lava. But as such a stick cannot stay there long without metling or being spewed away, so, too, did Brother Jerome's cock feel the contagious fire from Sister Anne's sexual organ.
The come gathered at the tip of his cock. He tried to hold it back, but it was no use. He let it flow, and he flowed with it, enjoying one of the greatest orgasms he had ever had in that chapel. He smiled with a wicked gleam spreading across his face as the come flew out of his thrusting cock and shot all the way into the hidden backwaters of the woman's cunt, as her whole body quivered and shook from the force of their mutual orgasms.
Brother Jerome finally lost some of his much vaunted self-control, as his face contorted with pleasure. He screamed low guttural sounding howls, like a dog, as he shot wave after wave of come into her, and he shook her ass from side to side wildly, directing her cunt in swirling movements around his still plunging cock, to get even more varying sensations there against his highly excited membrane.
"Uhhhh," he grunted, as his eyes closed and the last bit of hot come landed in her cunt.
The come drove her out of her mind, and Sister Anne slowly collapsed back onto the pew's cushion, feeling totally worn out, but her whole body glowed with power, filled as it was with Brother Jerome's essential manliness, a gift that would energize her for quite a while to come.
"That was excellent," Brother Jerome commented, as if correcting one of his student's disquisations. His soft cock was now quite limp and wet, and thus it plopped out of her cunt with a characteristic sound.
Sister Anne regarded it lovingly, her eyes open wide, a smile upon her sweet lips. "Oh, Brother Jerome," she said throatily, and that was all.
Saint Sebastian looked down and said nothing at all.
CHAPTER SIX
Sister Anne entered the confessional, trembling with fright. She had confessed many horrible things in the past, lies and lustful thoughts, but never had she had sins like these to report. Just to think of them made her skin crawl, not when she thought about how enjoyable all of her sins had been, for she had loved every minute of them, and by this time Sister Anne had accepted that fact, and was able to look at it without flinching. But what frightened her the most was when she regarded the sin as her Father Confessor would look at it. She had committed venial sins frequently, like getting angry when Sister Mariette burned the dinner and refused to give her the oregano, and also when she stubbed her toes and said, taking the Lord's name in vain, "Jesus, my toe!", and when she saw Sister Charlotte coming out of the shower, she thought, her boobs are so much smaller than mine, but that was a moral sin, one of the worst. But still, it didn't seem to her nearly as bad as those she had just committed, like engaging in the Aztec orgy, for instance. It seemed to her that they would almost have to invent a whole new category of sins to cover that one, for it was a honey.
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," Sister Anne said humbly, as she knelt in the darkened booth.
"It is four days since I've last sinned. That is ninety-seven hours to be exact since I last went to Confession," said the young nun.
The Father was bored. Sister Anne never had any good sins. Still, he might as well listen: that was what he was there for.
"I have committed fifteen sins against the Holy Ghost's Truth." she enunciated without much hesitation. These ones didn't bother her much.
The Father Confessor yawned. Big deal, he thought, big fucking deal.
"I have commited the sin with another person against the virtue of chastity. Sins actually committed with my body and with my mind, too. And these sins have actually involved that part of my body known as my tits."
Now the Father Confessor was interested; he was interested indeed. This sounded like hot stuff, and about time, too. Sister Anne had long been a disappointment to him.
"And of my Father, I must confess that I even committed sins with my ... my ... my pussy."
"Tell me some details. Was this with a man?"
"Yes, Father, in fact with a boy, too. And several men. And some Aztecs."
"Did they do it to you in your cunt? Or elsewhere as well?" The Father was very interested now, so much so that his cock began to rise underneath his cassock and sweat formed in hot beads upon his forehead.
"In my ass, Father, and in my mouth. And I even, even, I even sucked their cocks."
"How many men were involved?"
"Four, father. I think." Sister Anne was getting confused. "And one was a boy."
"Details. I must know details," the Father insisted, as he began to rub his cock up and down.
"Well...." Sister Anne hesitated, wondering what details he wanted, and how many, and just what he meant.
"Tell me. Hold nothing back. Nothing." He insisted vehemently, growing impatient. His hard cock demanded to know even more than his horny, ever horny brain. Sex was really all that the Father Confessor cared about, and like every man in the oprhanage, he had long had his eyes upon the sexy Sister Anne, and had longed to get his hands upon her too. This now seemed to be his chance!
"It was a boy, one of the boys here, after a baseball game and he was hurt, so I helped him, and he was so attractive that I ... he started to touch me, my breasts, my cunt, and then I was ... I couldn't help myself, his cock looked so good. It looked tasty and my mouth opened and I began to suck his cock!" As she said all of this Sister Anne felt her tits first and then her cunt grow warm and excited, and' she was reliving the experiences as she described them. She went on to tell her Father Confessor about that night, when young Ed showed up in her room, and they had fucked so passionately and with such wild abandon. And then she told her Father Confessor about her meeting with the Aztecs and all that happened there.
She heard sounds coming from the partition in the confessional, hoarse, harsh, deep breathing, as if the Father Confessor were ill.
"Father, are you all right?" she asked, worried.
"Yes, yes! Go on! Tell me, what happened with the second Aztec, the one fucking you?" His breaths came out quickly.
So Sister Anne told more of her exciting story, and as she told it she grew more excited.
"More! More details!"
She saw his head bobbing up and down from the screen in the partition, as her eyes had by this time grown quite accustomed to the darkness.
"Yes!" he exclaimed, and his breathing grew so fast that she feared he was going to keel right over. Then she no longer saw him, and suddenly she was bathed by harsh white light which flooded the confessional in which she sat, light so bright that she could no longer see. Rough hands grabbed her and pulled her out, strong fingers tightening on her soft female arms.
"Help!" she called out, sure that it was bandits or drug addicts who had broken into the orphanage. But when her vision cleared she saw it was her Father Confessor who was holding her. She couldn't believe it. Had her sins been that bad? Then she noticed that his cock was hard and was sticking out past his cassock, staring her brutally in the face. It was so huge and fat that it frightened her. Her Father Confessor himself was rather huge, a good six feet tall and quite heavy, a large man in every sense of the term, and he quite frightened her. She quivered and tried to struggle her way from him, but he held her much too tightly. She could not escape him, and the more she struggled the more his fingers twisted her arm painfully.
"What ... what are you doing?" she cried.
"You pervert!" he shrieked at her, with a voice that could have broken glass. "You devil!"
"No! Please! Don't!" She was so scared, because his huge hand was raised and all his fingers were about to come down and slap her in the face.
"You must be punished! What you have done is absolutely inexcusable. I'm going to whip you!"
His hand slapped her hard in the face, stinging her fair skin and causing her to wince. His second blow knocked her to the floor, where she lay whimpering and cowering, covering her face with her hands, hot tears streaming down her face, the Father Confessor's immense dick bobbing around with every step that he took.
"Please! No more! No more! Please!" But her tears and moans of terror elicited no sympathy from her Father Confessor. Years of hearing sexy stories without getting any action himself, due to his rather gross appearance but more due to his odious personality, which had no redeeming qualities whatsoever, had made him a mean and vindictive man who got his sexual thrills entirely from causing pain to those beneath him. Particularly he loved to torment beautiful girls with big breasts, and such a girl Sister Anne certainly was. But up until now she was too good; he had no excuse to bring his specialized skills into play. Yes! This was a moment he had longed for with all his heart for a long time, and now that it was here he intended to make the best and the most of it. He would make it last!
"Tell me, which boy? Which boy was it that did those foul, vile things to your lovely, lovely body!" As he pronounced this last word, his rough mitts stroked her body, trying to rip her habit right off her sexy limbs.
"Tell me who he is, so I can get him, too, and beat him until he bleeds!"
Was this the man to whom Sister Anne had poured out her heart to these many years? Was this her kindly and understanding Father Confessor? How little she had really known him! This revelation, more than anything that had yet come before it, now fully convinced Sister Anne that religion, in its organized form at least, was bunk, and especially around this madness, this so-called orphanage, which was really more of a brothel, and a pretty sick one at that.
Sister Anne was simply disgusted. This was no Holy Man. This was a pervert, a sadist, a menace to the boys and girls who were his charges at the orphanage.
"I will never tell you who he is, nor will I divulge the name of ... "
"Of who? Of who?" He almost jumped upon her with fury, as the realization hit him that she must be referring to another member of the orphanage. This she let slip without intending it, one of those Fruedian slips by which she divulged information to make him feel bad without even knowing her own motives, a kind of unconscious cruelty, egging him on to do his worst, thus unconscious masochism as well.
"I will never say," she replied stoically, proud of her superior will, which she thought could not be broken.
But the Father thought differently. "We'll see," then he laughed, and the evil sound rang out throughout the back of the Church. "Follow me," he said, grabbing her arm and twisting it so much that if Sister Anne had not immediately, painfully struggled to her feet, he undoubtedly would have broken it. "To the baptismal fount," he intoned.
A shudder passed through her body. This was one section of the Church that was seldom used, except at Baptisms, and as none of those were scheduled for today, she knew that no one would find them there. Also, it was far enough from the main Church, and through such heavy stone walls, that no one would be able to hear her screams or her calls for help.
He pushed and shoved her down the rear of the church and through a squat, heavy stone door. Then came a stone passageway that twisted, once, heavy stone all the way, and they entered the Baptismal Fount. It was a hexagonal room filled with statues of Saint Francis and Saint Peter and Saint Veronica and in the middle was the fount, crusted with gold. Many baptisms had Sister Anne witnessed here, her heart throbbing with joy. Now, as he hurled her to the cold stone floor, it throbbed with deadly fear.
"Ha!" he laughed, a short bark which showed him to be the animal that she suspected.
Going to a closet, which she had never seen before it was hidden behind a tapestry, he returned in a few seconds with heavy chains.
"Convenient," was all that he said, with an evil smile, that ever-present smile that sent cold chills up her back to the base of her spine.
These chains he attached to two metal hooks that were embedded in the stone wall. These hooks she had never noticed before, never haying had occasion to do so, but now she knew that she would never forget them.
"On your feet, slut," his harsh voice commanded, reminding her of a Nazi she had seen in a movie once. When she did not respond quickly enough, because of her fear, he reached down, grabbed her, and hauled her to her feet. Then, throwing her against the wall so that the back of her head butted it painfully, he chained her wrists.
"That hurts," she moaned stupidly, for he knew it, and that was why he was doing it. Just a reflex on her part, excusable because of the terror which she was feeling, and because she was in a state of shock.
"You are in my power," he announced. "Cooperate and you will not be hurt ... too much. Refuse, and you will regret it for a long time. Maybe forever."
Again he stuck his arms into the closet, and this time they carried out heavy whips and some other instruments which Sister Anne barely saw, for as soon as they crossed her visual field tears of fear and excitement welled up in her eyes and threw everything out of focus.
"Ha!" he barked, quite pleased with her reaction. It was what he had expected and it gave him much pleasure. His prick jumped in the air, happy as a fox terrier with a new toy to chew to pieces and destroy, just as he hoped to destroy the will of this captive nun, Sister Anne, who had always been so haughty and proud. Well, he would break her now!
She heard a peculiar whistling sound and then felt fire on her flesh. It hit her just below her left tit with an incredible pain. The blood began to flow from the cut immediately, but Sister Anne did not feel it: she was more aware of the tears that flowed copiously down her face.
His prick jumped and the whip slashed out again. This time she felt it, for it sliced across her right nipple. Her shrieks filled up the small room and rang in it like a bell in a tall clock tower. They were music to the ears of the Father Confessor.
"So, you will tell me none of the names?" Even his phraseology, she noticed, was taking on, not a German tinge, but the accent of a Hollywood actor impersonating a Nazi. This made her despise him even more.
The whip sung again, many diverse notes, and slashed across her belly.
"Aiiiieee!"
But her cries brought no pity from the Father Confessor. "Talk and I will stop. Not before."
She said nothing. The whip flew through the air in a mathematically precise arc. It left a trail of blood across both of the poor girl's upper thighs.
"No! No!"
This time the whip cut her cunt. That was real pain, pain that made all that had come before disappear from her mind as if it had never happened. She was dissolved into a ball of tears, shaking in mortal terror.
The Father could no longer restrain himself. Slicing her cunt with his practiced whip really turned him on, and as he saw the red blood drip from her pink cunt, his prick throbbed so violently that someone watching might have thought it was going to fall off. With a grand smile on his face he approached her and, pressing her up tight against the wall, he directed his huge prick at her trembling, ravaged cunt.
"Yahhh!" she screamed, as his prick grazed her cunt wound, making the blood flow even more than before. But the Father Confessor liked it that way. She kicked out violently with her legs, trying to push him away from her. To her, he was a monster, and while fucking him might have been better than more of the whip, in terms of pain, that was not the way it seemed to her then, for she hated him more than she had ever hated anything in her life.
He could have chained her legs, too, there were plenty of chains. But he preferred not to. He liked the struggle, that way he could fight her, restrain her, overpower her. Such was not hard to do for a man as large and ferocious as he, even with a tiger of a broad like Sister Anne, whose tits alone were bigger than many other girls whom he had defiled in this very same manner and in this same room.
He liked the girls to fight back, because they could not win. With their hands tied, they could kick, but as he laid his heavy body against Sister Anne's kicking legs, she found herself unable to move. His weight was simply too much for her, and he used all of his strength to force her back against the wall, her ass scraping painfully against the cold, rough stone, as his prick began to sink into her open, trembling cunt.
"No! Ahhh!" she shrieked with pain, as her cunt was still sore from being whipped.
Her cries were music to the Father Confessor's ears, they made his cock tingle and jump. He shoved it continually in, deeper and deeper, parting her cunt lips, feeling the soft squishiness inside of her. What turned him on the most was that she was so wet there, which meant that, despite her protestations, she was getting off on his torturous treatment. It fit his theory that all females loved to be beaten.
And even Sister Anne could not have denied, for she was very honest, that she was feeling sensual delights in her cunt as it gradually filled up with the Father Confessor's huge rod. The pain was subtly yet surely transmogrified into pleasure, perhaps as a way designed by nature to preserve the sanity of a victim of such sexual torture and humiliation, or perhaps it was just chance. But in either case, once the prick was firmly embedded in her cunt, and the Father Confessor got to fucking away, raising his ass high in the air, rearing back like an animal, and then driving it into her as hard as he could, she was really getting off.
She still hated him, she still fought him, but the feelings in her cunt were working inexorably against these impulses. He was, after all, a man, and his prick felt as fine as any man's prick would have felt inside her cunt, which had gone much too long without.
"Ooooh! Ahhh!" These moans were of passion, as the cook rode in and out of her cunt, faster and faster, as the large man panted heavily, his eyes almost bulging out of his sockets with the strenuous effort to look at her.
"Tits! Tits!" he shouted, as his hands cupped them and squeezed hard, too hard for the delicate tissue of which they were composed. He squeezed them so hard that they began to ache with a pain that flamed through them and spread down into her heart, making Sister Anne think she was going to faint. But, fighting back, she mustered energy enough to spit in the large man's bulbous face.
The spittle dripped down his left cheek and covered that eye. He wiped it away with one hand, a heavy hand that had been squeezing her right tit, which was now free of its torture. In that way at least, her gesture had been efficacious.
"You swine!" he said, then the same hand slapped her face hard. And all the while his prick was moving in and out of her steaming moist cunt.
Her face turned red from the blow, and curiously enough, rather than hurting her, the blow got her more sexually excited, so that her hips began to respond to his thrusting pelvis, thrusting back in their turn, her gorgeous ass scraping against the wall but no longer bothering her; feeling good, in fact, very good, making her thrust her hips even faster and with more directed vigor, eager to get her cunt all the way around his hard cock, to get that cock all the way inside of her where it would do the most good.
"Ahhhh!" she cried, as her hands moved spasmodically through the air. They wanted to grab him, whether to hold him tightly with passion or to scratch his eyes out neither of them could tell; but in any case her hands remained bound and could do no more than claw aimlessly in the dank air of the Baptismal Chamber.
"You are helpless!" he shouted into her face, his words hitting her flesh like pebbles, like the rocks that were hurled at Jesus by the mocking crowd. "You cannot win! You are mine! All mine! Mine! Mine!"
With each exclamation his dick slugged into her, burrowing its way into her cunt viciously, without any care for her pleasure but only for his own.
He began to suck on her tits, and her nipples responded readily, as easy to stimulate orally as ever, loving to be sucked. First one nipple then the other. In this way the Father was really showing, although Sister Anne scarcely had time to realize it, his essentially infantile character, for the only real way he could get into anything approaching normal sexuality was through suckling, the earliest function of any human being. But even here, normality was not enough for the cruel man. Returning to her first nipple, his mouth closed upon it, but this time he did not suck.
He bit. His teeth closed upon it tightly and clasped it like in a vise, while his molars ground away. When the Father Confessor lifted his face away from the girl's once magnificent chest, his mouth and nose and part of his lower cheek were covered with bright-red blood, and an infernal expression of unholy glee on his face made him look like the worst kind of minion of the devil.
Sister Anne shrieked with incredible pain.
How could any man be such a fiend? And with his prick still fucking her cunt, too! Impossible, yet true! It was almost as though he had been trying to bite it off.
She moved her hands spasmodically, vainly endeavoring to free them from the handcuffs which held them, for she wanted to use her hands to bash in the sadist's skull. But she could do nothing.
He closed his mouth upon her other breast, and before he could even bite her, her shrieks of anticipated pain were ringing out like a foghorn on a stormy night.
"Yahhh!"
But he was coldly heartless; he bit her again. The blood flowed. He lifted his face from her breast like a vampire from the neck of his prey.
The pain was simply too much. As she felt the foul torturer's come shoot off the tip of his cock and flow into her cunt, Sister Anne passed out, leaving the world of pain for the world of her unconscious and its dreams, dreams which now had a big job, that of salving her mental anguish.
CHAPTER SEVEN
She woke up in a cell. Her head ached, and when she turned her head she saw-Ed!
"Eddie! How did you get here? What? Wha ... did I ... did I turn you in?"
The scary thought hit her that somehow during her interrogation and torture she had broken down and revealed that it was young Ed whom she had sucked off and who had fucked her. Oh, no! How could she! She was a beast, worse even than her Father Confessor! A Mata Hari! An Use Koch!
"It wasn't you," Ed quickly explained, seeing just by watching her face the thoughts which raced through her head just as plainly as if they had been written in neon on her face. "Someone saw me that night when I left your room. Sister Beatrice!"
"It doesn't matter whom," said Sister Anne, ever forgiving. "Only, have they hurt you?"
"Nah. I'm OK, so far. But actually, I'm scared. For you, too. We gotta get outta here. They're crazy you know. Especially the Rector."
"The Rector? Does he know about...."
"Are you kidding? He's in charge. Him and the Confessor, that big bag of wind, and the Mother Superior, that shit, she tortures kids, pours hot wax on their cocks...."
Sister Anne's head rolled about with these bits of shocking information.
"And Sister Beatrice, and Sister Charlotte, they make you suck their cunts for hour upon hour, while they sit there and watch TV, and if you stop, or get tired or hungry, then they give you to Brother Mark! And then you've had it! And what he does to the girls in the school you wouldn't believe! He lines them up, half a dozen at a time, and him and the Rector go down the line, fucking them in their cunts, sometimes even in their asses, or making them suck them off, or lick their assholes."
"Stop! Stop! I can't take any more! It's driving me crazy!" Sister Anne slapped her hands against her ears, more as a gesture than anything else, for she could still hear each word which Ed enunciated.
"Okay, but I thought you should know, because you're one of the good ones. Maybe you could do something to stop it. I mean, this is crazy. Sex is fine, but this torture, uh, uh, not for me!"
"But what can we do? And what are they going to do to us?" Sister Anne asked in a small voice, scared and horrified, with the feeling that the final bottom had dropped out of her world, and there was nothing left beneath her, not even a skeleton of steel girders. "I'll answer that!" The voice was that of Brother Mark!
Sister Anne started back in fright and loathing, for Ed's words had left an indelible impression on her mind. To her, Brother Mark now looked like a monster.
"You will be punished severely for your crimes. Fucking! And without telling the Mother Superior! That will never do! Follow me!" he ordered and, having no choice, they did.
Brother Mark lead them through a labyrinth of corridors that Sister Anne had never known existed, and from the dankness and darkness, broken only by a series of ill-working gas lights, she judged them to be in caverns beneath the orphanage proper. There was a creepy feeling about the whole place, the feeling of being in a dungeon, and as they rounded one corner, Sister Anne caught sight of what she was sure was a rat, scurrying away into the deeper dark.
They came eventually to a heavy wooden door, upon which Brother Mark pounded. The sound was like a rock plummeting into a heavy pool. The door opened onto a horrible scene.
The Rector, distinguished and kindly looking as ever, sat upon a kind of throne, and in front of him was a red plush carpet. Sitting at his feet were two young girls, fourteen or fifteen years old, that Sister Anne recognized from the orphanage. They had been in her class the year previously, and were called Dora and Joan. Both girls looked frightened, but completely cowed, as if they had been beaten into total submission.
Couches lined one wall and upon these sat the Mother Superior, who was clothed only in a kind of see-through night garment that struck Sister Anne as being the most vulgar thing imaginable. Next to her sat the Father Confessor, who held a glass of some drink, alcoholic no doubt, in one hand, while with the other he pawed the Mother Superior's twat.
Upon the walls hung chains, and also holders which supported whips and maces and other instruments of torture. There was a fire burning beneath a grate at one side of the large room; it looked like the grate upon which Saint Stephen had been martyred. Sister Anne shuddered, but the association came quite naturally.
Brother Mark grabbed her by her shoulder and shoved her brutally down onto the floor. She lay there, totally naked, under the feet of the Rector, who smiled acidly. She heard a clump, and saw that Ed, too, had been shoved down next to her. Both of the victims looked up at the Rector, Sister Anne piteously, Ed with boyish tough defiance.
"You should be ashamed of yourself, Sister Anne," the Rector said in his kindly, civilized voice, a voice which sounded like it was cultivated at Oxford. "The Father Confessor has repeated all that you told him. Aztecs! Really!"
The Mother Superior laughed. Sister Anne realized that she was drunk.
"And you, Ed," the Rector continued. "You should have known better. Sister Anne was naive. She didn't know how things are run around here. But you knew. You know that sex is forbidden unless the Mother Superior or I give our approval. Did we give our approval to your ... ah, siesta with Sister Anne?"
Ed glared at him without saying a word. For this, he received a swift kick in the back of the head from Brother Mark.
"No," he replied, the least he could say without getting another kick.
"That is right. Well then, we have no choice. We must punish you!" With these words the scene came more to resemble bedlam than anything else. The two young girls, Ed's school chums, grabbed and dragged him across the room. He, too, was naked, of course, and his ass scraped mercilessly against the cold stone. He could easily have struggled against the two girls and defeated them, but Brother Mark hovered above him, a huge pole aimed at the boy's crotch. Ed well knew that any resistance he put up would be met immediately with sadistic brutality that might cripple him for life. The Rector was subtle in his cruelty. He knew that Ed would find it particularly humiliating to be dragged around by just a couple of young girls.
Ed was chained to the wall much as Sister Anne had been before, with the exception that his ankles were chained as well, the Rector evidently fearing the boy's greater power and anger, and taking precautions. Once they had him tied, under command from Brother Mark, the two girls began to strip, but before Sister Anne could see what would happen next, she found herself lifted bodily into the air by Brother Mark and the Confessor and carried out of the room.
Ed glared at the two girls. They were very attractive, with thin lithe bodies and budding young titties, but they were pawns of the hated Rector, allowed the Rector to control them, and so he despised them. Of course, in his youthful bravado, Ed was disregarding the torture which the poor, relatively weak girls had undergone, torture which compelled them to do whatever they were told.
The Rector laughed. "Suck him," he commanded.
Instantly, Joan dropped to her knees. Her small mouth opened wide and began to kiss and lick the young boy's cock. It was flaccid at first, but Brother Mark and the Rector had spent many tiring but highly pleasant hours teaching young Joan the full art of sucking a cock, and she did it so well that within seconds, Ed had a boner that would have done a sultan proud.
Joan was a particularly beautiful girl, which of course was why the Rector had picked her to head his vice squad. With long blonde hair falling over her thin shoulders, and a very appealing, innocent little girlish face, filled with freckles that gave her a delightful air, and with just a hint of pubic bush above her cunt, any man would have found her a beautiful sight.
Ed began to moan in a low tone as her mouth surrounded all of his cock and sucked on it hard, swallowing it right down. Her mouth was heavenly, wet and hard, yet soft and yielding, everything that a cock could want. Plus her hands continued to manipulate Ed's balls.
While this was going on, the Rector pulled his cassock apart and called young Dora over to him. Dora too was a beauty, with black curly hair and a cute face with wide sexy lips. Her breasts were already getting pretty big, and had that sweet, ripe roundness which is characteristic of many young girls and which never fails to excite favorable comment.
"Let me fuck you, my child," was all that the Rector had to say to have the sweet young thing immediately mount his lap, without the Rector even having to move out of his seat. She aimed her back at him, sitting on his lap, and got her twat right over his cock. Then she lowered herself onto it.
The Rector gasped with the intensity of the pleasure which his prick felt as it rammed its way into her cunt. It was a small cunt, as she was a small girl, therefore tight. Plus, he had done nothing to excite her, so it was still relatively dry and hard, not really ready for any cock, let alone one the size of the Rectors, which was both long and thick, with bulging veins which demonstrated the intensity of his sexual drives.
"Oh, that's good, Dora," the Rector said, as she managed to get her cunt halfway onto his cock, where she ground it around and around, hoping in this way to flame the fuels of lust within her.
The Rector reached forward with his elaborately manicured hands and touched the girl's budding young chest, feeling her nipples stiffen under the promptings of his fingers.
Dora grunted as she tried to shove her cunt down all the way onto his huge cock, but her cunt was so small that it rather hurt her to do so.
"Go on," he urged her. "Go on down," as he shoved up with his pelvis, his cock quivering with the rampant desire to get all of the way into the young girl's tasty cunt. The Rector was getting really excited not only by fucking her cunt and fondling her delicate breasts, but also by the sight of young Joan who was so busily sucking Ed's cock, so that the slurping sounds coming from her mouth could be heard loud and clear all the way across the room.
So Dora braced herself and pushed herself down. With a loud, "Auuugh," she felt the cock get right into her, felt it touch bottom. It hurt at first, but as he pumped it in and out of her, and as she, getting used to his rhythm and to the feel of the monstrous tool inside her, began to move in turn, the pain turned to a degree of pleasure, and she really began to get into it and to take as much pleasure from the act as she could.
The Rector, for his part, was experiencing nothing but bliss. Her cunt was a tight fit, like a glove, just the way he liked it. He plunged his rod into her, driving it up with increasing force, feeling all of her cunt ooze and shift around his moving cock, his fingers playing odd tunes across her moving tits, which veritably seemed to grow and develop even as he touched them.
Ed grunted in a sudden spasm of pleasure as the come raced up the length of his cock and shot out of its tip, right into Dora's open and anxious mouth. Much as Ed hated the Rector and this system of enforced sexuality, there was no way his physiological response could fail when a young girl was sucking him off, so what had to happen happened: he came, screaming in passionate fulfillment. Her mouth just felt so good, as its soft lips milked out every drop of come from his stem, that he could do nothing else but go with the flow.
This gave the Rector a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, to see his young students so enjoy themselves. But then he remembered how bad Ed had been, how disobedient, and the Rector's face grew harsh and stern.
Brother Mark," he called. But Brother Mark did not answer.
"Brother Mark...."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Brother Mark was next door, in a kind of anteroom. He and the Father Confessor were having their way with Sister Anne.
"Damn, but I love to fuck underarms!" Brother Mark exclaimed merrily.
"No lie," replied the Confessor.
Anyone walking into the room at that moment would have witnessed Sister Anne, naked, tied down on a soft bed, her hands tied at about a thirty degree angle from her body, her legs spread much wider at a good forty-five degrees, then roped down with cord. But what was strangest was that Brother Mark and the Confessor, equally naked, were hunched above her on the bed, each with his prick buried in a different underarm, fucking her there.
"I thought you were kidding when you first suggested this," said Brother Mark to his male companion, "but this is great. Sensations that can be produced in no other way.
Sister Anne thought they were both crazy, grown men fucking a woman's underarms. It felt strange to her, the two men hunched up by her head, their long dicks running furiously against her tender skin. It felt weird. It almost felt good. But she despised them both so much that she had trouble in separating the physical sensations of their warm pricks against her skin, from their personalities, which were so hideous and cruel.
"Oh! I'm going to come!" the Father Confessor confessed, and within seconds, his hot sperm shot out all over her underarms, and her arms, and her belly, white streams of globby fluid.
He relaxed, getting off her.
"Suck this," Brother Mark said, taking his cock from her underarm and shoving it at her mouth.
She tried to refuse. She closed her lips tight, but Brother Mark would not stand for that. His hand descended brutally and slapped her across the face.
"Ooooh," she cried, tears of pain welling up in her eyes.
"Suck it," he commanded, and this time she obeyed, for fear of his terror.
Her mouth swallowed it down and she almost gagged, because he got on top of her and started to fuck her in the mouth although her mouth was actually a cunt, and this made her gag and made it hard to breathe. But Brother Mark didn't care about that. His prick felt such delightful sensations as he shoved it rapidly in and out of the beautiful fleshy woman's wide open, moist mouth, that he didn't care about anything else in the world, least of all for whatever Sister Anne felt. He thought she was a haughty bitch and didn't like her too much, but he liked her mouth all right. That he liked just fine!
She felt fingers on her cunt, playing with her there. They belonged to the Confessor, and he was manipulating her in the hope not so much of stimulating her, but of stimulating himself. And, evidently that was working for, a few minutes later, when she heard him say, "Stroke it," and he placed his prick in one of her hands which, although tied down, was able to move its fingers, she found that his cock was already half hard. He moved it back and forth in her hand while her fingers nimbly caressed it. All the while Brother Mark's immense cruel cock kept on plunging down between her lips, driving her crazy with annoyance and almost reaching and putting out her tonsils.
"Damn, but those tits are fine," the Confessor exclaimed, entranced by her globular mammaries, which wobbled about so provocatively as her whole body shifted, due to the motion which Brother Mark's cock sent shooting into her open mouth.
"Damn, if I'm not going to fuck her right there between those jugs! Move over there, Brother, and let your Father in!" he called out drunkenly.
"Uhhhh!" breathed Brother Mark deeply,-his orgasm approaching, not even hearing what the Father was saying to him.
"Uhhh! Uhhh! Uhhh!"
"Move over, I say, and let a real man through!"
With this, the Father Confessor tried shoving Brother Mark aside. That turned out to be a big mistake, for this was just at the moment when Brother Mark's orgasm was first hitting him, an orgasm which the Brother had built up too carefully, and expected to enjoy. He wanted, more than anything, to shoot his full load straight down Sister Anne's throat. Really down there: he didn't want it to go over her teeth or her gums, and then come rolling out past her lips and down onto her chin. He wanted it down there, in her gullet, way way down.
So when the Father Confessor pushed him, what happened instead was that his long prick was suddenly, precipitously dislodged from its long sought for, highly enjoyable location deep inside the girl's mouth. As soon as the cock plopped out, she of course closed her mouth, extremely relieved to have that vile, dangerous pole out of of it. She just knew that if he did manage to shoot his full load into her mouth that she would choke and gag and retch and feel just awful.
The come shot out of the tip of Brother Mark's cock, but instead of going where he desired it to go, it shot into the air, landing on the girl's face, on her eyes, her hair, her breasts, her belly. Some of it even landed on the Father Confessor. Everywhere, in short, except where Brother Mark had intended it to go.
Brother Mark took his intentions seriously, and this made him mad, so mad that he lost his head. He was, of course, drunk, as were all of the participants, the willing participants at least, in this orgy. So his temper flew quickly, and he directed it at the cause of his failure, his superior, the Father Confessor. Little he cared at that moment about who was superior to whom!
His hands flew out and caught the Father across his face, knocking him to the ground. The Father cursed vilely.
"Fuck!"
But that bit of violence scarcely satisfied wild Brother Mark. Like a tiger after his prey, he leaped from the bed on top of his fallen foe and began pummeling him with his fists.
Seeing this, Sister Anne was overcome with real fear as she figured that Brother Mark had absolutely lost his mind and might turn on her with the same flying fists within moments, and her tied down and helpless. Fortunately, as the Father had fucked her hand, the motion of his body against the ropes had loosened them, enabling her to easily slip one hand out free. With this free hand she quickly untied herself, unseen by the two men, who rolled about on the floor like two professional wrestlers, the kind who wear masks and have weird names and who jump on each other from the ropes, only these two were doing it all seriously, pounding fists into each other's faces, laying on top of each other, gouging into each other's eyes with long fingers.
Where to go? Certainly not through the door in which she had come, for that lead to the room in which the Rector held his foul court. There was another door at the end of the room, the other end from which she had come in, and as this was the only other door, Sister Anne found her choice had been made for her. So as the Father, blinded evidently in both eyes, was slamming his feet into the prostrate Brother Mark's naked groin, Sister Anne slipped out.
CHAPTER NINE
With Brother Mark unavailable, the Rector had to take care of punishing Ed with the help of Sister Beatrice, who had joined them, and the Mother Superior. And as the Rector was still busily engaged in fucking delightful little Joan, he called for the help of the Mother Superior.
"You enjoy the use of that prick of yours, do you, young man? You like it?" the Mother Superior sneered at him.
Ed looked at her without saying a word, hatred in his eyes. He knew that nothing he could say or do could avert the punishment coming his way, so he didn't want to lower himself to dealing with these sadists.
"Answer me!" she shouted, her voice jumping a screeching octave.
He remained silent. Sister Beatrice, dressed in leather pants and a leather jacket that was open to reveal her bosom and her belly button, came over and began to stroke the boy's cock.
"Of course he wants to keep it," she said. "See what a nice one it is, how strong. And see how big it's getting, and so soon after!"
Ed could not prevent the physiological response from taking place, his dick was indeed getting bigger under Sister Beatrice's gentle, but ultimately evil inclined touch.
She began to pull it, gently at first, but Ed was afraid, and then harder, and his fears were realized. Sister Beatrice's long, slim fingers held onto his cock tightly, and she was pulling it hard, as if she was going to take it home with her for use at a more convenient opportunity.
Ed could no longer remain silent. The excruciating pain would not let him.
"No! No! Help! Oh! Please stop! Help!"
Sister Beatrice let go of his prick, and it sprang back to his body like a rubber band, and then fell limp, out of fear and pain.
"I'll let you keep that prick for a while," she said, laughing merrily. "Meanwhile, I'll let you see how we punish other boys who have been bad."
As she said this, the door opened, and Tony suddenly flew in, as if pushed from behind by an unseen hand. He fell face down on the red carpet in front of the Rector, who had just finished shooting his load into the cunt of young Dora. The Rector pushed Dora away from him, and she slid down his legs rather unceremoniously falling on her ass on the carpet, the come still oozing from between her thighs.
The door slammed behind Tony, and it sounded like the gate of Hell.
"Tony has been bad," Beatrice explained to Ed in a loud voice, "but not as bad as you. Remember that as you witness his punishment, for it will be nothing compared to yours."
For the next hour Ed was forced to watch as numerous indignities were practiced upon Tony's young body. Tony was not a particular friend of Ed's, but they were classmates and played ball together, and Ed hated to see the poor boy suffer so much. He also hated to think of what they had in store for him. And if these were not worries enough, he also had the recurring question of what horrors were being perpetrated upon the poor body of lovely Sister Anne.
Beatrice strapped a dildo onto her leather pants, opening them at the crotch and attaching the dildo right there, so that one end of it shoved its way into her cunt and against her clit, whenever she shoved the other end of it anywhere. This end she shoved into Tony's ass. The boy was stretched over a kind of cushioned rack, and held down by ropes, as Dora and Joan played with his cock and balls. Then Beatrice got up behind him, and after Dora greased the boy's ass, Beatrice began to shove the horrendous dildo right on up there, a place which was still quite virginal, and unused to the intrusion of large objects.
The sweat broke upon Tony's brow as pain contracted his whole body, and he began to tremble and feel that he was being split open. Blood flowed from his asshole as the dildo tore skin and pushed ruthlessly inside.
"This is delightful! Just delightful!" the Rector announced to anyone who cared to listen. Ed's stomach turned.
"No! Ahh!" Tony cried out, in torture.
But his pitiful cries only spurred Beatrice on all the more. It really turned her on to take the masculine role in a sexual scene, particularly when the sexual roles were reversed so that she was fucking a young boy, who had a prick, it was true, but also had smooth skin, like a girl, and as Tony was a blonde, his skin was quite smooth, and quite pale.
Even Dora and Joan, who had gotten used to all sorts of scenes of torture, were shivering with fright, and were full of pity for Tony, for as they sat at his feet and continually manipulated his cock, so that it remained at a constant state of intense excitement and engorgement, they could not fail to notice the look of horrible pain on his face. Still, they had their job to do, and they knew that if they failed to keep his prick standing tall as a church spire, then Tony's pain would be as nothing to that which the Rector would make them feel.
So they kept stroking his cock with their long, supple fingers, while the other played with his balls, and occasionally either Dora or Joan would suck his cock a little. But whenever it appeared that he might shoot his load of come, then they slapped his cock hard and suddenly with their open palms, so hurting him that the cock immediately got small and limp, and there was no danger of his coming. Then they started exciting his cock all over again, an endless round of provocation without gratification.
Meanwhile, the Mother Superior was kissing the Rector's ass. As he had finally gotten up energy enough to rise from his throne, he decided that there was no point in wasting it but, calling the Mother Superior to him, he leaned over, resting his elbows on the throne, while the Mother Superior went to work. It always gave her an intense inner feeling of satisfaction to suck or kiss the Rector's fat behind, for he was such a powerful presence, and one of the great men in her life, someone that she had really learned a lot about life from. So, as she sucked his ass and let her tongue delve deeply into his smelly asshole, she played with her own clitoris, reaching a feverish peak of excitement in very few minutes.
This position of leaning on the throne of course prevented the Rector from feasting his eyes on Tony's tortures, but as he had witnessed many such tortures, he knew that when he rejoined the action it would not be hard for him to follow the plot.
"Let him come! Let him come!" moaned Sister Beatrice, as she felt she herself was about to experience that ultimate release. The dildo had done its fine work in exciting her clit, and her whole body tingled with thrills.
Dora sucked the boy's cock as hard as she could, feeling it move about all over inside her warm mouth, feeling it get ready. Dora was quite practiced at this, at filling the will of Sister Beatrice, so just as Sister Beatrice shouted in passion and began to shake her body in the throes of passion, her two globes on her chest bouncing out past the leather jacket, nipples taut, her eyes wild, just then, young Tony too began to shoot his load, and it was an extra feeling of pleasure to Sister Beatrice to perceive the boy's body shaking with orgasm.
"Yesssssss!" she hissed, a long cry of pleasure.
With a deeply felt grunt, the Rector too began to shoot his load, for he had been pulling on his own cock while enjoying the exquisite feel of the Mother Superior's tongue dabbling into his ass. The come shot out and got all over the throne, while he jerked his hips with pleasure.
Instantly Joan was there, a moist rag in her hands, wiping the come off the plush velvet of the throne so that it would not leave any stains.
"So!" said Sister Beatrice in a harsh voice. "You have come!" Her eyes stared with disdain at the boy's still quivering post orgasmic cock. His face was pale white from pain.
"Tie him!" shouted the Rector.
Dora and Joan carried this out instantly, and he was tied facing the wall.
The Rector was now full of energy, and as he took down one of the long whips from the wall, he turned to Sister Beatrice and said, "Fetch the hot coals from the incense!" She instantly left through the door.
As the Rector's muscles tensed in preparation for swinging the whip, everybody who was not tied up immediately spread out, hugging the walls, for it was a long whip and they knew that the Rector was no expert at it, unlike the Father Confessor, who could hit a match at fifty paces.
He swung the whip in the air and it slapped brutally against Tony's back. The boy howled in pain. The Rector chuckled, highly pleased with his accuracy.
"Not bad, hey?" he questioned the room in general.
This time he faced Ed, and when the whip swung it slapped across the boy's stomach, leaving a bleeding red trail. Ed tried to hold in his scream, but the pain was too abrupt, and he howled like Tony.
Wild with pleasure now, the Rector alternated, hitting Tony and then Ed, missing sometimes and slapping the wall, chipping stone from it with the force of his blows, but lashing into their skin often enough to leave welts all over.
Both boys were crying from the intense pain, which was more than any grown man could have born, and were almost passed out. But the Rector took occasional rests, during which time Dora and Joan were forced to play with the boy's cocks and suck them until they stood high in the air, at which point the Rector returned to whipping them.
The other door opened and Brother Mark stumbled into the room, his face all bloody, looking a wreck.
"She's escaped!" he announced. "We've been looking for her, but can't find her. The Father is still doing that, but I think she's gone!"
"Nonsense!" the Rector shouted, too excited by his whipping the boys to pay much attention to Brother Mark's fears. "She's quite stupid and will never be able to find her way out of the labyrinth!"
Laughing wildly, the Rector lashed out and sent the whip flying across Brother Mark's face, which was tight where he aimed it. Delighted with his newly found, or perhaps, chance, prowess with the whip, the Rector laughed uproariously, but Brother Mark was furious.
"Hey! Cut that out!" he said, mad.
"You deserve far worse than that for letting Sister Anne escape," said the Mother Superior in the severe tone of voice which made many nuns quail.
"Ha ha! Ha ha!" laughed the Rector, as Tony passed out from too much pain.
The whip sung its song through the air and Ed felt it slap against his thighs, leaving a welt that he could no longer feel, for all of his nerve cells were numb, having short-circuited out from having to carry too many messages of pain. But he was still conscious, glaring at the Rector balefully and vowing vengeance.
The Mother Superior and Brother Mark had apparently made up, for when the Rector looked around he saw them locked in a feverish embrace of the 69 position, as each devoured the genitals of the other, accompanied by hoarse slurping noises and high pitched cries of passion.
"Very good!" the rector called out. But his whip arm was getting tired. "Where are those coals?" he asked of no one in particular.
Dora looked at Joan with fear in her eyes. "This is getting serious," Dora whispered. "What do you think they're going to do with the coals?"
"I don't know. I hate to think," Joan answered.
"Maybe we should do something, stop him or something."
"How?" Tears streamed down Joan's face, tears of helpless rage. "He'll kill us, and torture us first in ways that are even worse."
"What are you girls whispering about? You have work to do. Wake those boys up. Throw buckets of cold water in their faces." the Rector commanded, knowing that they would obey, for they were cowed by terror.
The girls fetched the buckets from the faucet and hurled them at Tony and Ed. The boys stared out sullenly.
"Go ahead," said the Rector, "suck them!"
The girls again bent to their duty, their sweet young mouths exciting the cocks of the poor boys. Tortured though they were, their pricks still responded as they were meant to do, a triumph of God's design for humanity.
"Good!" cried the Rector. "Very very good! Excellent!" His prick too was jumping excitedly in the air. The Mother Superior and Brother Mark both came in an orgy of pants and moans, and then they straightened up.
It was just at this moment that Sister Beatrice entered the room.
"Here are the hot coals," she announced.
"Good!" said the Rector, rubbing his hands together. "Pour them on their cocks!"
"No!" shouted Tony, as the thought of his cock sizzling to a frazzle, like a burnt steak, managed to make its way into his pain-fogged brain.
Dora shrieked. This was too much for her. Like a maniac she leaped upon the Rector, her fingernails coming out like claws to rake ruthlessly across the skin of his face. Blood poured out from the marks of her fingernails, and the Rector vainly tried to beat her away, but he could not, she was young and furious.
Taking her cue from her friend, Joan leaped upon Sister Beatrice, tackling her like a football player and throwing her to the ground. The hot coals went bouncing across the floor and hit Brother Mark's feet.
He howled in such pain that he was unable to intervene and save the Rector and Sister Beatrice from the attacks of these two formerly cowed girls, who had reached their limit of co operation.
Joan was mad, and she beat Sister Beatrice in the head with her small fists, that still packed a wallop because they were so motivated by righteous indignation.
But the Mother Superior grabbed her and hauled her off, hurling the girl's small body across the room. But Joan rose up, still fighting, and approached, slamming her fists into the Mother Superior's bosom, knocking her wind out.
Sister Beatrice grabbed her from behind, holding her tightly but Joan, undaunted, kicked out with her feet, raining blows into the Mother Superior's head, as the poor woman had collapsed into her knees.
Dora was biting the Rector, chewing on his neck, while her fists kept punching him in the chest and in the nose, and her knees came down brutally in his groin, causing him great pain. Brother Mark, surmounting the pain of his red burning toes, grabbed her from behind and hauled away.
By this time, too, Joan had been subdued by the Mother Superior and Sister Beatrice working together. Mad, they carried the girls across the room and tied them up.
The Rector was absolutely furious, his face red and pulsating. "You will suffer now! You will suffer! And you will die! But not before you suffer! These hairs!" he said, fingering Joan's pubic hair, which was only starting to grow in, "Each of these hairs will be pulled out! What pain that will cause you! And these tits!" he said, grabbing them in his hands, "They shall be cut off! Ha, ha, ha!"
Brother Mark stuck his finger into Dora's cunt and moved it around violently. "Hot pokers will go in here," he sneered at her.
Just then the door opened and Sister Anne raced in. "There they are, officers," she shouted, full of excitement, hoping that she had not gotten there too late.
"Jesus, Charlie, do you believe this?"
"Damn, Fred, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't of seen it!"
The two police officers rushed in, holding their nightsticks. The Rector and Brother Mark tried to flee out the back door, but a truncheon came down across the Rector's head, knocking him to the floor. Blood began to ooze from his skull. The horrible sight of the bloodied bodies of these chilren had taken away any tenderness or mercy that Officers Fred Toner or Charlie Blumler might ever have possessed. They were like avenging angels.
When Brother Mark saw the Rector get what was coming to him, he knelt on the ground, as if in prayer, and prepared to beg for mercy. But before he could open his mouth, a truncheon caught him in the face, and blood poured in gushers from his mouth, accompanied by numerous white teeth. He fell into a pool of his own blood.
Charlie chained up the Mother Superior and Sister Beatrice, and they moaned as the chains tightened around their flesh.
"When we're done with you, you'll be locked up for the rest of your lives!" Charlie said to them.
Meanwhile, Sister Anne loosened the chains which held the boys and girls chained. She went to the faucets and began to wash their wounds. There would be much work to do to fix them up, not just physically, but mentally and spiritually, but Sister Anne felt equal to the challenge. She had learned much of what could happen to people who tried to repress their sexual energies, how those energies could then come out in unspeakable cruelties. But the church had also taught her mercy, and to care for people, and to teach, and these skills would stand her in good stead now. She was a woman with a mission now, to save children from the cruel excesses of sadism and to return them to the normal world.
