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thank you

Standard Disclaimer. This is a religious-hypnotic-mind-control story
that should not be read if you are under the age of 18 years or if the
type of story you imagine it to be will offend you.  If you decide to
read it anyway, please remember it is only fiction that is created for
reading pleasure. Thank you - Mesmer.

			"HYPNO-RELIGION" (c) by Mesmer
                               *
			   Chapter 1

                               *
In Palermo, Sicily, on the high mountain top, in a huge and old stone
building which faced the ocean on three sides the fifty-year-old
Mon-Senior watched as the bus pulled in and stopped before the main
entrance to the convent. Several senior nuns in their habits walked
quickly out to meet the new arrivals, girls from everywhere who had
taken the gratifying step of dedicating their lives to the service of
god. Twenty-seven in all.  He watched the Mother Superior walk out as
well, after the other nuns had lined all the girls up beside the bus.
She stood surveying them with an experienced eye while the bus rattled
slowly away and back towards the town, some fifty miles away.

      The girls were made to form three rows. They were all dressed in
normal clothes, he noted, but that would soon all change when the
Mother Superior began to spell out quite clearly for them the girl's
new code of dress, of conduct, of sleeping and prayer sessions, and
basically of everything else that was to become their daily life and
practice at the convent.

     The Mon-Senior knew that there would be some girls who would not
make it, who were simply not dedicated or committed enough in their
now-chosen vocation to become Brides of Christ, but still, there
always were a few, he recalled. He watched the girls being led off
inside the huge old building and their first of the many lectures they
would have during their daily lives. He smiled, then turned and walked
to his desk. The Mother Superior would be joining him soon with her
initial observations of the new group. He sat and picked up the list
with their names on it and began to study it closely, looking for any
familiar names.

				* *
Mother Superior let her gaze wander over the faces of the new group as
they settled noisily into their chairs in the main lecture theatre.
Skins of darker and lighter shades, bodies of small and large stature,
hair of varying shades, clothes of varying colours, and all about to
change, for good. This was to be their first lecture before being
taken to their dormitories to settle in and reflect upon the words she
was about to say. As always, there was much whispered and hushed
talking between the girls, along with the faces of those who were
still not quite sure of their, or their parent's decision in their
coming to the convent for training as a Brides of Christ. Mother
Superior took a deep breath and sighed. Here we go again, she thought
tiredly, knowing all the troubles that would soon be coming her way,
that only she would be able to diffuse in a manner that would be
satisfactory to all concerned, albeit, mainly the church.

     "Girls." She said softly but firmly into the microphone on the
dias. "Settle down now and ready for your first lecture."

     Mother Superior heard the hush before she saw them all cease what
they were doing and look expectantly up at her. So young, she thought,
as she prepared her standard speech of welcome in the back of her
mind. She knew it off by heart after fifteen years. All the girls were
aged between fifteen and nineteen. She wondered how many of them still
remained untouched by the hand of man. In this so-called modern year
of 1943, the retaining of virginal purity seemed to be a dying cause,
she concluded.

     "I would like to welcome you all into the loving arms of Christ
and the church. Here, at this precise moment today, you are forgiven
of all past sins and are reborn anew and fresh, untainted in the eyes
of the church and of Christ." Mother Superior began. 

     "I am your Mother Superior, who, with your designated nuns, will
teach you in your daily lives, and will be ultimately responsible for
your spiritual training to fulfil your chosen roles in your church as
a Bride of Christ."

     Mother Superior saw most of the girls turn and look at each other
and smile, then look quickly back at her, eyes wide in anticipation
and expectation.

     "As of this moment." Mother Superior continued, her face becoming
stern now.  "Your minds and your bodies belong to Christ, and our
church you have chosen. You will have no contact with the world beyond
these convent walls, your new home; not with your parents, or
families, or friends; not by letter or telephone, or in any way. There
will be no talking or signalling in any way between yourselves. You
are an island unto yourself."

     "Your dedication to your own goals and the cause of your choosing
to be here must require you to isolate your thoughts for the good of
your soul. You will learn many things in the coming days and weeks,
but first of all you must learn self-discipline. We are here to teach
you that aspect of your personalities, since you will all most readily
agree that there is not much self-discipline in the world from whence
you have just departed,"

     Mother Superior watched them all closely, noting those who nodded
their heads in agreement with what she had said, and those who did
not.

     "From this moment onwards you will all take a vow of silence, to
be broken only by being permission from myself, the Mon-Senior, or
your designated nun. Apart from that, your vow of silence is your own
first sacrifice to your chosen goal, for, if you cannot give up the
sound of voice in your own ears as a meagre token for your love for
Christ, you will most certainly fail in the more advanced training
classes to come. In absolute shame then will you be put back on the
bus that brought you here and returned as a failure in your life, sent
back quickly and in disgust to your parents in disgrace, never to be
accepted or even considered for acceptance into Christ's loving arms,
or the church again, for the remainder of your life."

     Mother Superior's gaze took in the now uncertain expressions on
most of the girl's faces, and continued.

     "I hope I am making myself absolutely clear. You will not speak
to each other from this moment onwards, no matter what the reason, or
where the location; not your dormitories, not your beds, not your
bathing or toiletries. You will not write messages of communication
either. All communication material in the form of paper and pencils
will be collected from you when you are taken to your beds after this
lecture. You will speak with your heart and the expressions of
communication on your faces when, and only when you feel there is an
urgent need, and your teachers will know your wishes and wants. Save
for those rare occasions you will have to contact with your sister
beside you in any way, other than to be aware of her presence in
comfort. If you do so you can now know that you will h ave tainted the
efforts of your sister bride and Christ will frown upon you. As well
you will be punished severely for affecting your sister's chosen
sacrifice, and will be scorned by all your sisters in general."

     The faces of the girls became even more uncertain as Mother
Superior continued to note the special ones and then went on with her
welcoming speech.

     "To speak to each other you will find there is absolutely no
reason that will be acceptable. You are here to listen and to learn,
not to speak. The days of hearing the sound of your own voice will
soon become a distant memory, and begins now, at this very moment."

     Mother Superior was taking it slow and easy, allowing time for
repetitive understanding and comprehension to take place within the
girl's minds and awareness.

     "If such an event happens, the person responsible will have
admitted her failure in my eyes, the eyes of the Mon-Senior, the eyes
of her parents, the eyes of her sisters here, which you are all of one
family now, and, in the eyes of Christ himself will you be looked upon
as a total and complete failure, before you have even begun."

     Her fear of god speech. Mother Superior smiled inwardly, knowing
her words were terrifying the living daylights out of most of them.
And she had not finished yet.

     "You will be severely punished for your failure and your sin, and
you will bear your punishment in shameful silence, no matter what form
the Mon-Senior or I may choose for you, rather than to increase your
punishment by voicing or displaying your lack of acceptance and the
correct attitude of it."

     Almost finished. Mother Superior became aware of the grumblings
of her stomach. It was almost time to meet the Mon-Senior for morning
tea while they discussed the newcomer.

     "You will then be returned to the world of sin and depravity you
have only just left.  Please adopt the appropriate personal attitude
and prove to yourself, your church, and to Christ himself, that you
are worthy of the honour of being one of the chosen ones. Is
everything clear so far?"

     All upturned heads nodded in unison. Mother Superior smiled. Let
the games begin, she echoed in her own mind.

     "In the training to come your faith will be tested many times,
and in many ways. It is not for you to question in what manner this
training may befall you, for Christ's demands of those who have chosen
to love him unconditionally will not be repudiated or questioned in
any way. 

     Only a slight pause for effect, then continuing, Mother Superior
began to wind up.  "Belief without question, and faith without doubt
are your penance prayer words at every test, and at every moment of
your waking day, whether you believe it to be a test of your faith, or
not. For you will never know how the hand of god through his son and
his church may attempt to train your spirit within your soul."

     Mother Superior noted that some of the girls had tears in their
eyes. She smiled at them and saw some of their faces lose a little of
their uncertainty as she did so. Then she lost the smile as quickly as
it had come, dismissing the girls to their designated nuns, who then
led them out of the theatre and on to their dormitories. That done she
headed off to meet the Mon-Senior for morning tea.
			     * * *
				All twenty-seven of the girls were
scared and a little terrified; terrified of failing, terrified that
they or their parents had made one huge mistake in sending them there,
and terrified that they would surely manage to break their vow of
silence and be severely punished in some way. The very thought of not
speaking or of not hearing the sound of their own voice was
unimaginable to them. They had been talking all of their lives and
doubted very much that they would succeed, even though each and every
one of them had personally chosen to become a Bride of Christ.

     The girls were all led back to a huge dormitory room with single
beds down along each side of the old stone walls. There were no
windows and only one door at each end. One nun-teacher had been
assigned to every four girls which made seven groups altogether - six
of four girls, and one group of three.  Each nun took their charges
down the centre isle between the two long rows of wartime bunks and
allocated them each their beds, and the black and white habit of the
church. 

     The girls were then given their linen, two sheets, one blanket,
one pillow and slip tp go with it, and one long, cotton nightgown.
Soon the looks of queries began to s how on the girl's faces as they
began to unpack and make their beds with each of their nun-teacher's
looking on. One by one they turned to face the nuns who waited
expectantly, knowingly.  Then, each of the nuns grouped them back
together in a small circle and spoke quietly to their charges.

     "To answer your unasked question." Each nun said to her group.
"You have noticed, if you haven't already, that you h ave been given
no undergarments. Yours is not to question why, except to be told that
your bodies are not yet clean enough to wear the closeness of the Lord
against your flesh. Question not. Just accept and be happy you have
been chosen. Make your beds now, and quickly. We have much yet to do
before your first day is done."

     The girls all turned in one and quickly made their beds. As the
girls were finishing their allotted task, each teacher-nun walked up
to and whispered into each of her charge's ear, then stepped back and
waited, arms outstretched in front of her.

     The girls looked around at each other, then did as they were
asked. One by one they each removed their tops and bottoms of various
designs and handed them to their nun. Some wore brassieres, some did
not. Then, with gentle encouragement from their nun they slowly and
embarrassingly removed their undergarments and handed them too, to
their nun, to stand naked before their superior with hands crossed
over breasts and thighs, eyes cast downwards, looking only at the
floor.

     "You will all come to this end." The nun at the far end of the
isle spoke loudly.  "Through this door and around the corner you will
find the showers. Bathe and wash yourselves quickly, and in absolute
silence, dry yourselves, and then return here as you are about to
leave. Go now!"

     The girls look up in unison towards the sound of the voice, then
slowly moved forward, following the naked buttocks of the girl in
front, although trying to be seen as looking.

     "Quickly!" spoke the nun, even more firmly.

     The girls moved forward against the bare buttocks in front of
them until all moved from the room and were gone. Twenty minutes later
they were all back, wet-haired, hands arms still covering their
nudity, but walking very quickly, eyes downcast as they came to their
bed and stood beside it. Most of them were flushed pink from the
embarrassment of being in such close proximity to such a mass of
moving, naked female bodies. The girls generally came form stout
catholic families, and as such, never saw anyone but themselves
without clothes on. Other members of their own families, including the
same sex, just simply did not present themselves ever without being
well and truly covered by clothing of some sort over most of their
bodies.

     "Put on your habits! Your teachers will show you how." The same
nun spoke to them again.

     One by one each nun called their charges forward to the end of
their bed, instructing them on the donning of their habit, which was
really only a matter of pulling it down over their head and allowing
it to fall under its own weight. Some habits came down to the floor,
some to the girl's ankles. Those that were of ill-fit were noted.

     As each girl stretched her arms high upwards into the air to
lower the habit over their head, their respective nun's eyes could not
help but gaze upon the full young breasts and lush thatches of velvet
matting of all shades and thickness between each of the girl's thighs.
Soon they were all clothed from head to toe in the robes of the
church, some smiling, most serious. Then their headwear was shown how
to be fitted and worn, leaving only the round of their cheeks and
faces open to another's gaze.

     "You will all now be taken to mass." The nun who had spoken
earlier now said. "One by one you will be sent to an interview with
the Mon-Senior and Mother Superior who will assess your level of
commitment to your chosen vocation. Conduct yourselves appropriately
in accordance with your wishes to remain here and be trained and
nurtured along the way to becoming a Bride of Christ.

     The girls were then led from the dormitory, each worrying
frantically how they were going to pass their first test. Some were
stressed, others were calm and collected, while yet others genuinely
felt chosen already and were smiling as they walked quickly along
behind their chosen nun.
			   * * * * *
The Mon-Senior and Mother Superior sat silently drinking their morning
tea, each involved in their own thoughts. It was always exciting when
a new group arrived, although known only to each other as the teaching
nuns had never been allowed to sit in on any of the girl's initial
assessments. They each finished their tea at the same time and
replaced their fine china cups back into their saucers, their eyes
serious as they met in gaze across the Mon-Senior's huge black desk
top.

     "Have you had any recent reports from the last group of sisters
sent to the town churches?" Mon-Senior asked quietly.

     After twelve months of training as a Bride of Christ, and the
appointment of Sister as their designator, the sisters were all then
sent out to the various villages all over Sicily, even into Italy
itself. And every twelve months would a new batch arrive, just as it
had now. Most of the girls made it through the tough twelve months,
although with some, it was hard going at times. While occasionally one
or two did not make it at all, and was sent home to her parents in
disgrace, sworn to a lifetime of silence, or be assured of a place in
hell forever and a day. To date, the Mon-Senior had only ever received
good reports from the priests about the sister or sisters who were
sent to them, while some reports were truly outstanding in praise of
their charge or charges.

     Mother Superior met the gaze of her superior and smiled. She was
a middle-aged lady in her mid forties, tall and lean, not ever having
allowed the slow-paced life of the church to cause her to lose her
feminine shape.

     "No, Mon-Senior." She smiled at him, wondering at the same time
if he could read her thoughts. "Nothing but the glowing reports you
have already read."

     The Mon-Senior smiled a satisfied smile, believing in what he was
doing, and feeling assured of a place in the heavenly father's kingdom
when his time came to leave this earthly sojourn. The training college
had been his own idea, although the convent had always existed as
such, but mainly as a church. It had been he, alone, who had been made
aware of the sanction, in not so many words, which had been filtered
through the conversation on one of the visits of the Arch Bishop of
the Daises, almost ten years ago now. The Church had been disgraced by
so many of its priests, both of junior and very senior ranks, who
involved the church in scandal by involving themselves with young boys
of their congregation. In a radical and very secretive move the upper
echelon had made the decision to keep their priests satisfied in the
only way god had truly intended them to be - with women.

     The Mon-Senior reflected for a moment on his present convent's
humble beginnings in the new regime within the church. For the nuns
and sisters, to be married to the church now meant to be married to
whatever priest or priest they had been assigned to, although in
concept only. Their training at the convent assured they would be of
sufficient experience and attitude to keep the priest's roving eyes
away from the rear ends of young altar boys, and so the church could
and did regain its solid reputation. 

     Such training was it for the girls at the convent that each
sister saw herself, when finished, as the only thing standing between
the church and its continued success, or complete destruction. It was
only through her continued efforts, unconditionally given to her Lord,
her Christ, as she had been taught to believe, through being and
remaining committed in act and thought and deed as a Bride of Christ,
that she could prove her undying love for god and the church, and as
such her bride-ship in being allocated to being the bride of the
priest she had been sent to, she became a permanent Bride of Christ,
while he became her Christ, her Lord and saviour. For without him, and
his acceptance of her she would not and could not prove her worth in
Christ's holy gaze. 

     It had taken some time to remove all of the staff that were
present at the time, including the Mother Superior of the day, which
had left only him, and his interpretation of the Arch Bishop's hidden
message. No words had ever been said to him in direct intent, nor
would they ever be. That had been made clear in unspoken messages
between unspoken messages. Yet he believed he had interpreted
correctly and had trained each sister accordingly ever since. 

     The Mother Superior who sat opposite him had been a woman from
that very first batch of girls, who had been destined to keep the
priests of the church on the straight and narrow for the first time in
the history of any church. She, for one, had done just that, as far as
he personally was concerned, and had kept his bed warm ever since. The
Mon-Senior saw himself as a pioneer and as such, a very valuable
member of the church indeed, and now, the Mother Superior saw herself
in exactly the same light, and in exactly the same way.

     "The first one will be here any minute." Mother Superior said to
her lover seated across the desk from her. It excited her to think of
him as her lover, although for the most part she thought of him as her
husband, her Lord, her Christ.

     "Her name is?" The Mon-Senior asked questioningly. The Mother
Superior glanced down at the clipboard in her lap.

     "Anastasia Barteloni." Mother Superior answered. "From Palermo
itself."

     The Mon-Senior smiled. The Palermo had it born into them, he
felt, never having had any trouble ever with any of the girls who came
from there. Before selection and acceptance into the convent each girl
would be subjected to several interviews, some with their parents
present, and some by themselves. By the time final acceptance took
place the Mon-Senior knew fairly well who were going to trouble and
who were not. Those he believed were not suitable he did not accept
into the convent, leaving the girl and her parents ashamed for
something they could never know about. 

     It was the Mon-Senior himself who travelled the countryside
recruiting, along with two of the teacher-nuns to assist him, and to
keep him company at nights, while the Mother Superior remained at the
convent to run the place in h is absence and to prepare for the next
intake. The Mother Superior, he knew, was not happy whenever he had to
go away on recruitment, but he knew also she would never say a word
ort show her displeasure towards him in any way, for to do so would be
to declare openly her reasons for being and remaining a Bride of
Christ were selfish, and towards herself, and not selfless, and
towards god and the church. Besides, he liked variety, and had plenty
of it with the girl's training. The teacher- nuns were all of the same
vows, having been trained there as well, and would never indicate to
anyone in any manner any inappropriateness. The Mon-Senior did not
believe he had the responsibility for producing and maintaining the
world's largest brothel, but, he then smiled, it was as good as.
			  * * * * * *
There came a soft, yet firm rap on the large wooden doors to the
Mon-Senior's office.  Mother Superior rose immediately, walked to it
and opened it only three feet. One of the teacher-nuns stood there
with Apaloma in tow. 

     The gaze of Mother Superior and the teach-nun, Sister Apaloma,
met and locked briefly, then broke as Sister Anastasia turned and
glanced at Apaloma. Mother Superior nodded. Sister Anastasia bowed her
head slightly in return of the signal to leave and did just that,
turning on her heels and walking quickly away, hearing the large door
close behind her.  She wondered. She always wondered. But then, it
didn't really matter. Her turn would soon come around again, with the
girls, and with him, the Mon-Senior, just like it always did. Let her
guess and wonder if she shared the Mon-Senior with her. Let her guess.
And then Sister Anastasia smiled and hurried on towards the mass
temple area to get the next one ready.  Usually about a half an hour
was all they ever took with each girl in their interviews.

     The Mon-Senior remained seated as Mother Superior brought the
tall girl up to stand before him. He remembered her immediately from
the interviews as he did most of them, no matter how any there were.
She was tall. He remembered that. Apaloma stood head bowed and hands
clasped before her. Mother Superior took her place in the chair beside
her.  Nothing had been said to this stage.

     "You are Apaloma of Palermo? You may talk freely when spoken to."
The Mon- Senior said quietly, noticing the trembling hands of the tall
girl with long, jet-black hair hanging down to the middle of her back.
He wondered if she had as much downy black growth between her legs and
felt himself stir as his sphincter muscle contracted strongly.
Sicilian girls were famous to him for the abundance of lush, thick
growth over their private parts.

     "Yes, Mon-Senior." Apaloma whispered quietly in reply. She was
scared to death.  Her knees were shaking beneath her habit and she
felt giddy, as if she were going to faint at any moment. Her strong
young heart hammered in her chest as she fought to control her
breathing.

     "And you are committed to your vows to become a chosen Bride of
Christ?" He asked.

     "Yes, Mon-Senior." Apaloma breathed softly.

     "Are you a virgin, child?" asked Mother-Superior, feeling her own
energies pooling and centring in her lower belly with the thought and
image behind the question.

     Apaloma felt herself blush from head to toe from shame and
embarrassment. How could she tell them? She struggled with herself and
her dreams to become a Bride of Christ.  She had not known a man, that
was true. But her private areas had known the gentle touch of her own
slender hands and fingers on many occasions when she bathed. Sweat in
fine globules glistened as it lined her forehead and trickled down her
long back to settled and d rain between her naked buttocks beneath her
habit. She had to, she finally decided. It was her only chance.

     "No, Mon-Senior." Apaloma whispered almost inaudibly.
"I...err....I believe I am, Mon-Senior, but...but I eeerr...I have
touched myself." Apaloma was as ashamed as she would ever feel in her
life, before and beyond that point in time. Her body heated and
sweated with embarrassment as she waited to be asked to leave the
convent.

     "Have you known self-pleasure to your body's completion?" The
Mon-Senior then asked her.

     Apaloma was dying of shame in front of them and in front of god
himself. She didn't think they would ask that - not that. Her knees
trembled and shook beneath her habit, while the sweat of her distress
began to run freely down her face and cheeks. She felt the cool
trickle of sweat escape from between her naked buttocks and begin to
cascade down her inner right thigh. Apaloma hoped it wouldn't pool on
the floor, for she stood before the two most powerful people in her
world in nothing but bare feet, standing on a polished wooden floor.
Apaloma blushed and flushed again from head to toe, feeling the heat
rising constantly from below beneath the habit and build beneath her
head and neckwear like a volcano waiting to explode. Would they tell
her parents of her shameful secret? She wondered, terrified, after
they expelled her, and before she had even begun?

     "Yes, Mon...Mon-Senior." She hesitantly and ashamedly admitted to
them.

     "Prove you faith in yourself and your vows, Apaloma." The
Mon-Senior said to her.  "Your vow of silence is restored. Show us of
your faith and ability to centre on your faith and cause, and accept
that which your Christ has to teach you in your mind and heart and
body, in the name of your Christ and your Lord."

     "Remove your habit, Apaloma." The Mother Superior said to the
instantly stunned and speechless girl.

     Apaloma, hands trembling uncontrollably now, began immediately
removing her headwear, dropping it gently to the floor while her
senses reeled. She didn't understand. It must be a test, she
concluded, as shaking like a leaf in every limb of her body she
reached down and drew the long black habit all the way up and over her
head, to drop it also on the floor beside her headwear. The rush of
cool air on and about her heated skin was a welcome feeling to her in
her distress, but she blushed again with the thought that she was
standing before the Mon-Senior of the convent, completely naked.
Apaloma had forgotten completely the fact that the Mon-Senior was also
a man. Her thighs and knees trembled and shook. She held her eyes
downcast, fearing to look anywhere but at the spot she had focussed on
in the polished wood board of the floor. Each breath shook in her
lungs before leaving her mouth, and then shook again as it escaped
into the heavy silence of the Mon-Senior's office.  Apaloma's mind was
reeling. She was frantic and didn't know what to think, so she thought
of nothing at all.

     "Your vow of silence is restored to you, Apaloma." She heard the
Mother Superior repeated to her.

     Apaloma nodded gently, indicating that she understood clearly she
was to say nothing. It was then she believed in her fevered mind that
it was a test, one of the many that Mother Superior had told them
about earlier in the day. Apaloma then calmed somewhat. Her breathing
evened and she felt a little better. Not much, but a little. She would
pass this, the first test, she determined to herself. She would pass.
She must pass. She must!

     The Mon-Senior had grown hard in his groin as he watched the
naked girl tremble and shake before them. It was a power sense. He
knew that, and he loved it. He believed also that the Mother Superior
felt it in the same way. Apaloma's young Sicilian breasts were full
and firn, jutting upright at her nipples from beneath the soft, white
underbelly of each firm breast. Her long slender upper torso rounded
and curved beautifully at her hips, then flowed gracefully down over
each thigh to her knees. Her stomach was flat and hard, even when
trembling, as were all of the hard-working girls of Palermo, and the
jungle of black, curly pubic hair held a myriad of mysteries that
would be his to sample in the fullness of time.

     "Stand with your hands on your hips, your feet apart, and bend
well over, Apaloma." Mother Superior said to her firmly. Her own heart
was thumping in her chest as it always did in anticipation of what was
to happen next. She could feel her own warmth becoming wetter and
wetter as she sat on the chair beside the naked girl who stood easily
within arm's reach of her long, slender fingers.

     Apaloma did as she was told immediately, her mind slowly becoming
more and more numb. She placed her sweaty hands on her naked hips,
which were just as sweaty. Then she widened her stance and bent well
forward, exposing her buttocks openly, almost right beside the Mother
Superior. Apaloma once again felt the intense heat of her own shame
and embarrassment at being seen this way by these two pillars of the
church. Yet nothing on the face of the earth, or could ever come into
her wildest imagination could have ever prepared Apaloma for what
happened next.

     Mother Superior's heart and pulse raced as she extended her hand
out towards the black hairy crease between Apaloma's open buttocks and
thighs. Gently she rested her hand on the firm cheek of the girls left
buttock for a few seconds. Apaloma jerked, but then remained still.
Then slowly, but continuously, Mother Superior began to reach into the
centre of all that lush, thick, black pubic hair itself, feeling
instantly the heat from between the girls legs and the soft wetness
contained therein. The girl gasped, closing her thighs tightly on the
tips of Mother Superior's fingers, but it mattered not. Mother
Superior then proceeded to give the girl's vagina a thorough
examination, checking and feeling to see if her hymen was, in fact,
still there and in tact.

     Apaloma felt her face getting redder by the second. The
incredibly sensual feeling of another's hands and fingers on and
inside her body was proving too much for her to bear. She felt giddy,
fearing she was about to faint at any second. That aside, Apaloma felt
increasingly

ashamed of the feelings being stirred in her lower belly by the Mother
Superior's gentle fingers exploring her most intimately from the
inside. Her breathing immediately became ragged and harsh. And when
one of those long fingers slipped deeper between her legs and grasped
her secret spot she could not prevent the slight moan of pleasure
escaping her mouth, to her undying shame.

     "Ooohh!!" Apaloma moaned softly again against her conscious
wishes to do so as the Mother Superior's finger and thumb began to
slide back and forth, up and down, moving the soft hood which covered
the jewel of her womanhood. The Mother Superior's other fingers
remained inside, deeply buried, and sliding slowly in and out of her
throbbing centre.  Apaloma could feel her own wetness begin to trickle
down her inner thigh and was again shamed into a ferocious heat in her
face and neck as she felt her lower belly and loins begin to contract
of their own volition.  

     Ashamedly Apaloma felt her buttocks gently begin to move against
the gentle, deep penetrating invasion by the Mother Superior's
fingers. Her breathing deepened to a gasp in time with each
now-pleasurable penetration. Her face and body was on fire. Her
breasts felt swollen and grotesque in their fullness while her nipples
elongated in their pleasure and burned like a fire at the tip of each
breast.

     The Mon-Senior watched the Mother Superior handling the girl
expertly, knowing what was soon to come to pass. His own hardness had
felt the strong pressure of his own grip the moment her fingers had
entered the girl's centre. In fact, he had to ease of his own pressure
lest he used the sting he wished to build upon for the remainder of
the day, having it risen to an explosive point by the time he entered
the Mother Superior's warm centre that evening.

     The girl was responding involuntarily now, more and ore with each
passing second, gently moving herself, her hips and buttocks back and
forth against the Mother Superior's fingers. The Mon-Senior could hear
the girls fevered breathing as her end rapidly approached her. Then
suddenly, he saw the Mother Superior's forearm flex slightly, and knew
she had firmed her grasp on the girl's pleasure core. 

     "OOOHH! Oh NO! Oh No!! Nnnnnnoooooonnnnng!" Apaloma cried as her
body shook and trembled from head to toe. Her hands fell from her hips
and gripped her knees and squeezed. She could feel each wave of
pleasure rip through her lower body and breasts as the Mother Superior
continued to time each pressure squeeze of her throbbing core with
each wave as it bathed and torched her from her toes to her crown. She
felt her knees weakening and feared she was definitely going to faint
dead away in front of them both. Her senses swooned to the touch on
and inside her body as wave after wave of fiery pleasure wracked her
mind and flesh, leaving it finally trembling and shaking, with her
breath coming in short, sharp pants like a well-raced horse. She
calmed slowly, well aware of the mother Superior's fingers still in
and on her body, shuddering and moaning softly from time to time in
the aftermath of the most pleasurable and violent sensations she had
ever experienced.

     Apaloma knew in her heart that she had failed her first test. Her
shame knew no depths as she remained bent over, gripping her knees
while the Mother Superior's hand slowly left her private body.

     "Stand up, Apaloma." The Mon-Senior told her firmly.

     Apaloma did as she was told, already fearing the worst.

     "Don your habit now." Mother Superior said to the still-panting
and breathless girl.

     Mother Superior watched, breathless herself as Apaloma set about
getting dressed again into her habit. She was very well aware of the
wetness between her own thighs and the readiness of her own body for
giving and receiving. She really didn't know h ow she was going to
stand the gathering of energies all day long without needing to share
those energies with the Mon-Senior or with god himself. Slowly she
brought her slickened fingers up to her lips and tasted the girl's
arousal. It w as salty and it was fresh and heady of aroma, musky and
strong to the nostrils, stirring her own jewel yet again and
contracting her thighs tightly together.

     The Mon-Senior had watched the Mother Superior do what she always
did after this first exercise. She tasted them. It was such an erotic
sight for him to see that he could not help gripping himself extra
hard as he watched her eyes close as her lips covered the first
two-thirds of those glistening fingers. He breathed every deeply in an
effort to control his building energies, desperately trying to save
them for that evening. Then he watched her open her eyes and glance at
him, smiling as she lowered her hand to her lap. His groin flexed and
contracted again. He was sure she did that only to tease him. To let
him know what was to come at the end of their working day.

     Apaloma was a mess, mentally and physically. Her mind was no
longer racing, but was simply numb. She thought of nothing except how
she was going to face her parents after being sent home in shame for
what she had just done, failing her first test. She hadn't even been
able to control her own pleasure, and in front of the pillars of her
church had she failed, to make everything worse even still. The tears
of her shame began to fall freely and in silence down her cheeks,
cascading like two shimmering waterfalls against her suntanned brown
skin.

     "Your love for your Lord is very strong, Apaloma." The Mon-Senior
said quietly, evenly. "And it will become stronger if you continue to
develop your faith in your chosen vocation as a Bride of Christ. You
did your best  at this time, and this we know and appreciate. We will
work with you and help you strengthen that which already lies almost
dormant with you so you will be accepted by your Lord, your Christ, in
whatever form of man he desires to take. For that which you could not
control today is indeed the very virtue that the Brides of Christ must
have in order to offer him their undying love for their sins. Do you
accept still the vocation of your choosing?"

     Apaloma couldn't believe her ears. They understood. She was only
a young girl, not fully in control of her body or her emotions. They
understood and were not going to send her home.  The tears of relief
flooded through her and ran freely down her cheeks now with little
sobs from her mouth helping them to flow on their natural way. She
nodded her head, yet never took her eyes from the polished wooden
floor for a single moment. She had focussed that same spot from the
moment she had bent forward with her hands on her hips, and on that
spot she had remained focussed to that very second. Sheer gratitude
for their understanding flooded like water through every pore in
Apaloma's being.

     "Come, Apaloma, and remember your vow of silence. You will be
taken back to mass now to reflect upon the grace and humility of your
Lord to become the same way, and to become stronger through your
training in the future to be fully, who you really  are." Mother
Superior said as she rose and led the sobbing, grateful girl to the
door. She then positioned her outside to wait for the arrival of the
next girl brought by Sister Anastasia, and closed the door, walking
back to her chair, very aware of her own wetness and racing pulse. She
hoped, as she neared her chair that he wouldn't and did not look at
the Mon-Senior. But he did.

     "Come here." She heard the Mon-Senior say to her, feeling her
heart beat faster with the first vowel from his lips. 

     She wanted to, yet she did not, for it was hard enough to make it
through this first day of a new group without what was going to come.
She veered in her direction to walk around to where he sat looking up
at her. Her gaze took in his as she looked own at him, her own
deepening in anticipation. She knew what to do next.  Reaching down,
the Mother Superior lifted her habit high above her breasts and closed
her eyes. Then she felt his hand and fingers lightly brushing over her
thick bush of Sicilian growth. She shuddered from shoulders to knee
and sighed audibly as his fingers deepened their probing. If only this
time he wouldn't take her there. But he did.

     The Mon-Senior, keeping two fingers sliding slowly ever deeper in
and out of the Mother Superiors slick, warm centre, firmly grasped her
pleasure core in exactly the same way and manner she had previously
grasped Apaloma's. 

     "Oh god!" she heard herself breath and gasp at the same time. She
was not going to make it. Why did he have to make it so hard on her?
Then he began to pressure her faster and faster. She felt herself
begin to sink down onto each invading thrust as it gently searched her
depths, each time feeling a different part of her inner volcano,
pressuring her there on her core in time with his penetrations. Then
he suddenly stopped as a gentle knock came to the door. She opened her
eyes and looked down at him, panting already in her forced arousal.
His eyes were deep and strong. She smiled at being saved from a fate
she would rather wait for to arrive that evening when she could enjoy
it fully.

     The Mon-Senior grinned devilishly at her untimely rescue and
released her flesh back to herself. She lowered her habit and walked
quickly to the door. He readjusted himself beneath his smock and
waited to greet the next girl. Inwardly and physically he flexed his
body and his groin, knowing that this was going to be a long day, but
a good one, knowing by the time they would finish with the girls for
the day he would have Mother Superior panting like a rabid dog, just
as he always did. The Mon-Senior then smiled the smile of a winner.
Only twenty-six more girls to go.

     As she reached own to turn the handle on the large door Mother
Superior allowed her sheerly physical smile to fade quickly, lest it
be seen by Sister Anastasia and the next girl. IN spite of her inner
protests she secretly looked forward to his touch between girls during
this stage of their training. She knew full well that by the time he
was ready to join with her that evening she would have received her
rapturous pleasure many times over. Yet she knew she would always have
more in reserve for him to see and to feel. Her hand tightened on the
doorknob as she took a deep breath to control her breathing. The
Mother Superior sighed as she turned the handle. Only twenty-six girls
to go.

			 * * * * * * *
		      The End of Chapter 1
                                
                        To be continued.
                     Thank you for reading.
                             Mesmer.


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