Waking to find the monk hovering in the doorway, I clambered to my feet and leaned against the cold stone wall. Apart from aching all over, I was hungry and dirty. I couldn't endure another whipping, another bout of sexual abuse. Having no idea how long I'd slept, what time of day or night it was, I tentatively followed him out of the room as he beckoned me with his finger. Standing by the millstone, my heart banging hard against my chest, I awaited my fate as he grabbed my wimple and habit from the floor.
"Dress and get out of here," he said, throwing the garments at me. "If you hurry, you should be in time for breakfast."
Did I detect a little sympathy in his voice? Was there compassion reflected in the pools of his dark eyes? Dressing, I hurried out of the dungeon and ran along the corridor before he changed his mind. Climbing the stone steps and entering the chapel, my stomach rumbling, I headed outside and walked to the main entrance of the nunnery. My sperm-coated hair concealed by my wimple, my aching body veiled by my habit, I composed myself before walking into the dining room. The large hall was empty apart from two nuns sitting at a corner table eating their breakfast. Was I too late? I wondered. The nun behind the counter plonked a plate of eggs and bacon on a tray as I approached her. Did she know about the dungeon? No words passed between our lips. There was no speaking in the nunnery, unless the Mother Superior spoke.
Sitting at a table, I ate my breakfast, wondering what the day would bring. Whether working in the garden or washing up in the kitchens, I'd devise a plan of escape. Setting fire to the building would bring the fire brigade out, giving me the opportunity to flee through the front gates during the commotion. But that was an extreme measure which would endanger lives. Besides, I wanted to slip away unnoticed. That way, the Mother Superior would be left not only fuming but wondering whether I was spreading word of the sexual abuse. Finishing my breakfast, I made my way to my room and grabbed my wash bag. My inner thighs starched with sperm, my hair matted with the male liquid of orgasm, I went into the bathroom and closed the door. A steady stream of water continuously running from the cold tap, cooling the lukewarm water filling the bath, I dreaded to think what it would be like in midwinter. There were no radiators, no heating in the building. But I wouldn't be there to see the winter, or the rest of the summer.
Immersing my abused body in the cold water, I hurriedly washed my sperm-matted hair. My body hadn't known sperm since I'd split up with Chris. And I certainly not expected to find to the substance flowing abundance in the nunnery. Lathering and rinsing my body, the sticky crack of my abused vagina, I finally leaped out of the bath and quickly towelled myself dry. Donning my habit, I knew that I couldn't spend too long getting ready as I had to be in the chapel for morning prayers. If I didn't turn up or was late, I'd no doubt be punished severely.
Finally leaving the bathroom, I dumped my wash bag on my bed and hurried to the chapel. My wet hair was a mess beneath my wimple, but I'd no time to bother about it. At least I was clean, free of the sticky products of male orgasm. I'd always prided myself on my hair. Long, blonde, well groomed and shiny... I'd prided myself on my body, but now it was nothing more than an object to be used and abused. Not sure what to wear beneath my habit, I'd gone without panties and a bra. If the monk inspected me, I'd be all right. If the Mother Superior... either way, I couldn't win.
Kneeling next to Elizabeth in the chapel, I closed my eyes and prayed for my freedom. Through my lashes, I watched the Mother Superior walking up and down the aisle like an animal stalking its prey. Prowling, hunting... was she waiting for me? I wondered fearfully, glancing at the small door to the dungeon. After prayers, we filed out of the chapel into the bright sunshine. There had been times in the dungeon when I'd thought I'd never see the light of day again, times when I'd thought... when I'd thought the worst. I kept away from Elizabeth as the Mother Superior stood outside the building watching me. As I'd not been told what my duties were, I decided to carry on working in the kitchen garden. At least I'd be showing willing, I thought, heading around the side of the nunnery.
"Mary," the Mother Superior called as I reached the garden.
"Mother?" I smiled, turning as she approached. My hands were trembling, my heat pumping adrenalin through my veins.
"What are you doing?" she asked, scowling at me.
"The weeding, Mother. I thought I'd carry on with the weeding."
"Forget the weeding. I want you to work in the greenhouse this morning. Pick out the side shoots on the tomatoes, pick the ripe cucumbers, water all the plants, including the flowers, and wash and tidy the empty flowerpots someone has thrown under the staging."
"Yes, Mother," I smiled, pleased that I'd be kept busy for the morning.
Following the woman to the large greenhouse at the far end of the kitchen garden, the heat hitting me as I went inside, I looked at the rows of tomato plants. I'd be kept busy for several hours, I knew as the Mother Superior closed all the windows and checked the thermometer. Instructing me to keep the windows and door closed to maintain a temperature of at least one hundred and twenty degrees, she showed me where the dirty flowerpots were. There was an old sink in the far corner of the greenhouse where I was to wash the pots, a long hosepipe for watering the plants. Wasn't one-hundred and twenty degrees too hot?
Starting by washing the pots as the Mother Superior left, I was already feeling very hot. I daren't remove my wimple for fear of being dragged down to the dungeon, and did my best to endure the intense heat. The hosepipe catching my eye, I wondered whether I could use it as a rope to scale the perimeter wall. If I fixed some sort of hook to one end and threw it over the wall. It wouldn't be easy, but it was worth bearing in mind. At least I'd come up with an idea, I thought, walking through the rows of tomato plants to the door. I had to cool down, breathe in fresh air before I could carry on working. Discovering that the door was bolted from the outside, I tried to open the windows by turning the large metal handle fixed to the back wall of the greenhouse. The Mother Superior had turned it easily enough, but I couldn't make it budge. Sweat pouring from my forehead, I knew that I'd either have to remove my wimple, or faint.
Looking through the glass at the kitchen garden, I was sure that no one was around. Checking the other direction, I was horrified to see the Mother Superior sitting beneath the shade of an oak tree drinking orange juice. She was watching me, I knew. Watching, checking up on me, waiting for me to remove my wimple so she could drag me down to the dungeon again. Determined to bear the heat, I returned to the sink and discreetly splashed cold water over my face. I managed to work for another fifteen minutes or so but began to feel dizzy. Grabbing the hosepipe, I turned the tap on and ran the cooling water over my wimple, my head immediately cooling.
Cleaning the flowerpots, I knew that I'd have to get out of the greenhouse before long. The thick black material of my habit absorbing the intense heat, even cooling my head with water wasn't going to help. Glancing at the Mother Superior again, I felt an overwhelming urge for revenge. She was obviously sitting in the shade sipping orange juice simply to gloat over my predicament. There was a smug grin adorning her pale, a look of satisfaction depicted in her expression. Again wondering why she was picking on me, I drank from the tap over the sink to prevent myself dehydrating. I couldn't last much longer. If it came to it, I'd have to force the door open and take the consequences.
"Have you finished the pots?" the Mother Superior called, tapping on the glass.
"Almost," I replied, forcing a smile as I turned to face her.
"That's not drinking water," she said, sipping her orange juice. Ice cubes floated, chinked, sparkled in the sunlight. "It comes from a filthy tank. It's fine for the plants but not for drinking."
As she returned to the shade of the tree, I felt my stomach churning. Was it psychological? I wondered. Was the water stagnant, or was she trying to frighten me? Finishing the flowerpots, I moved to the first row of tomatoes. The heat unbearable, my head feeling thick and dizzy, I finally slipped my wimple off and shook my long blonde hair loose. Although petrified by the thought of being dragged into the dungeon, I couldn't stand the fierce heat. Which would be worse, I wasn't sure. Fainting from the heat or being crudely taken by the monk? The Devil and the deep blue sea, I mused, fanning my face with my wimple.
The Mother Superior finally left her seat and disappeared around the side of the nunnery. This was my chance, I knew as I walked to the door and again tried to open it. Desperate for air, I leaned against the door, pushing hard until the wood split and the lock fell to the ground. There'd be trouble, I knew, clutching my wimple as I stood in the relatively cool air of the garden. But, trouble or not, I wasn't going to make myself ill by staying in the intense heat of the greenhouse. Sitting on the grass in the shade of a small tree, I thought I saw something moving in the bushes at the far end of the kitchen garden. Was she hiding there, waiting to catch me out?
A young man emerging from the bushes, obviously unaware of me as he made his way towards the greenhouse, I thought he might be a friend of the monk's. Perhaps he'd come to take me to the dungeon? But, if that was the case, why had he been hiding in the bushes? As he neared me, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me. He looked behind him and then at me again. He seemed nervous, and I was sure that he wasn't supposed to be in the grounds of the nunnery. Wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt, his black hair cascading over his suntanned face, he was very good looking. But who was he, and where had he come from? A thought struck me as I gazed at him. If he'd managed to get in, then he must know of a way out.
"Who are you?" I asked, rising to my feet. His dark eyes staring at me, he appeared to be frightened. Turning, he dashed across the garden and disappeared into the bushes before I could say anything else. He was the first chance of freedom I'd had, and I couldn't let him go. Quickly following, I fought my way through the bushes, emerging from the other side to find myself standing before the lawn in front of the nunnery. There was no sign of the young man. It was as if he'd disappeared into thin air. He was definitely an outsider, I knew as I returned to the greenhouse. If he'd found a way into the grounds, then I could find a way out.
"And what do you think you're doing?"
Turning as I was about to go into the greenhouse, I found myself staring at the Mother Superior. "Oh, I was about to..." I stammered.
"Where is your wimple?" she snarled, gazing at the garment in my hand.
"I took it off, Mother," I replied shakily.
"And what's this?" she frowned, staring at the split wood on the greenhouse door as she picked the lock up. "This is wanton vandalism."
"No, no you don't understand," I said, realizing that my fate was sealed.
"I understand only too well. What is it with you, girl? What's the matter with you?"
"What's the matter with you?" I returned angrily. I shouldn't have lost control.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I... I meant..."
"You removed your wimple, smashed the lock off the door, went wandering through the grounds when you were supposed to be working... and, to top it all, you were extremely rude to me. You'll regret this, my girl," she stormed grabbing my arm and frog-marching me across the garden. As we reached the chapel, she pushed me inside and ordered me to lift my habit. "My God," she breathed, staring at the swollen lips of my naked pussy. "This is disobedience beyond belief. Why have you deliberately defied me?"
"I... I didn't," I stammered.
"You're a filthy slut. Walking around like that... you've done it this time, my girl."
As she dragged me through the chapel to the small door, I knew that I couldn't endure another whipping. Perhaps I should have fought her in the garden, I reflected, almost falling down the stone steps as she pushed me through the doorway. I could have escaped her grip, knocked her to the ground, but what then? Having attacked her, I'd have had nowhere to hide and would have eventually been dragged into the dungeon. Stumbling to the bottom of the steps, I walked to the dungeon and waited by the closed door.
Had I been older, I would have fought back, burst into the Mother Superior's office and grabbed the phone. But I was only eighteen, too young and naive to make a stand. As the woman opened the door and pushed me into the dungeon, I stared at the monk. He was standing by the millstone, ropes dangling from his hands, as if he'd been expecting me. He had been expecting me, I knew as the woman closed the door behind her. Locking me in the heat of the greenhouse, knowing that I'd have to remove my wimple... they'd planned the whole thing. But why did they need an excuse to drag me into the dungeon and punish me? Were they afraid of something?
"Now what?" the monk asked, his thin lips grinning.
"The list is endless," the Mother Superior scowled. "Wanton vandalism, blatant defiance, disobedience, laziness, rudeness..."
"I see," he murmured pensively.
"And she's naked beneath her habit again. I just don't understand her. Again and again I've told her, but she deliberately defies me."
"All right, leave it to me," he said, his dark eyes staring at me. "Take your habit off, girl," he ordered me. "This time, there'll be no leniency."
The Mother Superior left the room and closed the door as I pulled my habit over my head and stood naked by the millstone. The leather whip and several bamboo canes standing in the corner of the room, I was sure that I was in for a thrashing. Ordering me to lie over the stone, on my stomach, he watched as I complied. My head almost on the floor, my legs either side of the stone, I knew that my vaginal lips were bulging between my splayed thighs. I could feel his stare burning into the crack of my pussy, scrutinizing the most private part of my young body. Tying my wrists and ankles, he slapped the naked globes of my tensed buttocks. The sensitive teats of my young breasts pressed hard against the rough stone, I found myself thinking that I was better off breathing in the cold air of the dungeon rather than the suffocating atmosphere in the greenhouse. A strange thought, considering that I my projected buttocks were about to be thrashed.
As he moved about behind me, I closed my eyes and again prayed for my freedom. The young man had got into the grounds, so I could get out, I repeatedly consoled myself. My stepfather had driven through a village on the way to the nunnery. I recalled seeing shops, people, a school... beyond the perimeter wall, there was life, civilisation. The village was less than a mile away, freedom lay on the other side of the wall. Perhaps the young man was from the village? I also recalled a farm down the lane from the nunnery gates. The monk might live in the village, I mused as his cold hands parted the taut orbs of my bared buttocks. His finger running up and down the crease of my bottom, smearing what felt like cold Vaseline over the small brown hole nestling within my anal gully, I let out an involuntary gasp.
"Ever been arse-fucked?" he asked unashamedly. Remaining silent, my mind frightening me with horrendous pictures of a huge penis driving deep into my bottom-hole, I tried to remain calm. "There's nothing like fucking the arse off a teenage girl," he chuckled. "Tight, hot... would you like me to push my rock-hard cock up your bum?" Trembling as I felt the tip of his finger slip into my once-secret hole, I tensed my buttocks. "It's just occurred to me that you deliberately misbehave because you want sex," he said. "You like having your cunt fucked, don't you? You like sucking the spunk out of my knob. And you're going to love it when I fuck your arse and fill your bowels with sperm."
Shaking uncontrollable as his finger slipped deeper into my rectum, I again thought about revenge. Not only did I want to escape the hellish nunnery, but seek revenge on the Mother Superior and the evil monk. His finger massaging the dank flesh deep within my anal canal, he groped between my splayed thighs with his free hand. Locating the wet entrance to my defenceless vagina, he forced at least three fingers deep into the tight sheath of my pussy. My pelvic cavity bloated, I could hear the lubricious juices of my vagina squelching as he pistoned my spasming holes, crudely stripping me of my femininity, degrading and humiliating me beyond belief. My day of revenge would come, I swore.
His fingers finally leaving my contracting holes, he moved about behind me. Determined not to whimper or complain, I bit my lip as I felt the globe of his swollen glans pressing against the well-greased entrance to my rectum. Dreading the thought, I pictured my tightly closed anus, his huge knob opening the portal to my rectum, painfully stretching my delicate tissue. My eyes squeezed shut, my anal sphincter muscles tensed, I held my breath as his knob forced its way past the tight ring of my anus and embedded itself an inch or so inside my rectal tube.
It felt as if my anus had been stretched open to at least three inches, the sensitive flesh surrounding my private hole tightly gripping the rim of his massive glans. I'd always prided myself on my femininity, never flaunting my curvaceous female form. Gracious, refined... but now? Parting my buttocks wide, opening the private entrance to my bowels, he slowly pushed the entire length of his erect penis into my shaking body. I could feel his knob deep inside my pelvis, invading my bowels, opening my inner core. His hairy scrotum kissing the swollen lips of my pussy, his lower stomach pressed hard against my taut buttocks, he slowly withdrew his solid member until my anal ring hugged his swollen knob.
"Like it?" he asked, driving his shaft slowly into my anal canal. "Can you feel my cock stretching your arse wide open?" Again, I returned his crudeness with silence. I wasn't going to allow him the satisfaction of hearing my whimpers, my futile protests, as he stripped me of my anal virginity. The rough millstone biting into the sensitive flesh of my young breasts, my sore nipples, as I rocked back and forth, I hoped that he'd come quickly. Once he'd deposited his sperm in my bottom, I was sure he'd release me. Unless he intended to thrash me.
My tethered body rocking faster as he quickened his anal thrusting rhythm, I tried to drag my mind away from the crude violation of my young body. I thought of my childhood, playing on the lawn in the back garden with my father. He'd left me when I was eight years old, left my mother and me to fend for ourselves while he went out into the world to earn some money. We waited, but he never returned. He loved me, I knew. Then the religious freak arrived and swept my mother off her feet. He never liked me. Seeing me as a link to my mother's past, I was sure that he hated me. He was a cruel man, and I wondered whether he knew what I was being forced to endure in the prison-like nunnery. But he'd have his comeuppance, of that, I was sure.
"God, you're tight," the monk gasped. I could feel his sperm jetting into my inflamed anal canal, lubricating the enforced pistoning of my most private place. His balls slapping the fleshy swell of my pussy lips, he grabbed my hips and repeatedly rammed his huge knob deep into the inner core of my shaking body. His sperm oozing from the burning eye of my anus, trickling down the gaping valley between my puffy vaginal lips, he grunted and groaned in his debauchery until his flow of sperm creased and his penis began to deflate. Rather than withdraw his organ from my bottom, he stilled his trembling body with the knob of his huge shaft embedded deep within my sperm-flooded bowels. My anal muscles spasming, gripping his flaccid shaft, I breathed heavily in the aftermath of the horrendous abuse of my teenage body.
His organ finally sliding out of my sperm-brimming rectum, he moved about behind me. Was he going to whip me? I wondered fearfully. I could hear his breathing, his feet moving about on the filthy floor. I couldn't endure a whipping, and hoped that he'd release me now that he'd satisfied his perverted desires. Jolting as I felt him smearing more Vaseline over my sperm-coated hole, I was sure that he couldn't take me again. Perhaps he was going to insert something into my bottom, I thought fearfully, wondering how deep his depravation ran. Sure that the crude acts were for the monk's pleasure rather than my punishment, I breathed a sigh of relief as he released my naked body and helped me to stand up.
Leading me through the door into the smaller room, he grinned as I started in horror at the metal pole in the centre of the floor, the two bars rising from the top of the steel shaft. The surface of the pole was stained, smeared with something. It was vaginal juice, I knew. Like candle wax, the creamy vaginal liquid had run down the steel shaft, drying into a starch-like crust. The floor around the base of the pole was stained white. Had all the novice nuns endured the pole? I wondered.
Ordering me to stand with my feet either side of the pole, he grabbed my arms. It wouldn't be too bad, I tried to console myself as he pulled my arms above my head and cuffed my wrists to the chains above me. My naked body trembling, I looked down as he knelt on the floor and cuffed my ankles to the chains fixed to the walls. Yanking my feet wide apart, he tightened the chains, my vaginal crack gaping, my naked buttocks parted. I'd not noticed the small handle at the base of the pole, but knew what it was for as he began to turn it. The pole rising, the two metal rods pressing between my tensed buttocks and the swollen lips of my vagina, I had to manoeuvre my hips to align the steel phalluses with the entrances to my holes.
The metal rods entering me, slipping into the tight duct of my rectum, the well-juiced sheath of my pussy, I wondered how long I'd have to remain in the degrading position. Leaping to his feet, he left the room. Was that it? I wondered anxiously. Although my arms ached, I was in no real pain. But why was he doing this to me? I began to wonder whether the place really was a nunnery. Perhaps the evil woman was no more a Mother Superior than I. Did my cruel stepfather know about the monk and the dungeon?
"A little invention of mine," the monk chuckled as he returned. Securing two metal clamps to the brown teats of my breasts, his dark eyes sparkling lustfully, he attached two thin chains to the clamps. "I like to see teenage girls with exceptionally long nipples," he said, fixing two heavy weights to the ends of the dangling chains. The pain permeating my firm breasts as my nipples distended, I looked down at my elongated milk teats. Each was about an inch long, painfully stretched, pulling away from the dark discs of my areola. Turning the handle again, the steel bars fully impaling my naked body, I shuddered as he slapped my naked buttocks with the palm of his hand.
What else could he do to my chained body? I wondered, the steel bars bloating my pelvic cavity, massaging the inner flesh of my tight sheaths as he again left the room. Would I become used to the humiliation, the degradation? Would I reach the point where sexual abuse became the norm and I thought nothing of it? Hearing voices, I stared wide-eyed at the door. It was the Mother Superior, I knew as she laughed. What were they planning?
"There she is," the monk grinned, leading the woman into the room and starring at my naked body. "All ready for you."
"Good," the Mother smiled. "With all due respect, if you want a job doing properly then do it yourself," she said as he passed her the cat of nine tails.
"No," I murmured, my heart racing as I gazed in horror at the leather tails.
"You've been asking for this," the woman hissed, scowling at me. "I will not tolerate disobedience, slovenliness, laziness, rudeness..."
"I'll leave you to it," the monk said, closing the door as he went into the larger room.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I asked.
"To teach you how to behave. To correct your wicked ways," she returned.
"This isn't a nunnery, is it? It's a prison, a torture..."
"Your stepfather told me about your insolence. That's why he brought you here. He tried his best to bring you up to be a decent young woman, and look how you've repaid him." Standing by my side, she raised the whip. "I'll teach you to behave if it's the last thing I do," she hissed.
The leather tails flailing my tensed buttocks with a deafening crack, my chained body convulsing, I scream out. Again, the tails swished through the air, lashing the quivering orbs of my stinging bottom, the pain permeating my sensitive flesh. She was loving every minute of the gruelling punishment, I knew as she let out a laugh. No matter how long I had to wait, I swore to get even with her, find revenge by whipping her naked body. The day would come when... the tails repeatedly lashing my burning buttocks, my muscles contracting, gripping the steel bars embedded within my inflamed holes, I bit my lip and held my breath. She had to stop soon, I was sure as the tails landed across my buttocks, the ends wrapping around my body almost to my lower stomach.
"I'll teach you to behave," she laughed, discarding the whip and leaving the room. Hanging from my chains, my body shaking violently, I dreaded to think what she was going to do to me. There was nothing worse than the whip, I was sure. No matter what she did to me, nothing could be worse than the whip. As she returned, I lifted my head and looked at her. She was clutching two steel rings, and I immediately knew that she was going to clamp the firm mounds of my breasts. Watching as she removed the nipple clams and placed the rings over my breasts, I grimaced as she tightened the screws.
"This will give you something to think about," she murmured, the rings positioned against my chest, my breasts forced to balloon. Replacing the nipple clamps and weights, she stood back and admired her handiwork. My breasts and nipples painfully deformed, my naked buttocks on fire, I hung my head as tears rolled down my cheeks. I had to escape, I knew as she again left the room. The young man would help me, I was sure. If I saw him again, spoke to him and explained my predicament, he'd help me. But would I see him again? Would I ever be allowed to roam in the garden again? Hearing voices, I didn't look up as the Mother Superior entered the room.
"That's what you'll get in you misbehave," she said. Lifting my head, I was shocked to see a young nun standing before me. "Take your habit off," the Mother snapped. "I intend to nip your despicable behaviour in the bud."
"Please, I haven't done anything," the girl sobbed.
"Haven't done anything?" the woman frowned. "You were extremely rude. Remove your habit now, or you'll find yourself in her position."
Watching as the trembling girl pulled her habit over her head, her wimple falling to the floor, I wondered what she was supposed to have done. Nothing, I guessed, gazing at her curvaceous young body, her long brown hair cascading over the swell of her bra. She was young, too young to be in the nunnery. I dreaded to think how old she was as the Mother Superior tore her bra from her quivering body. Her breasts barely developed, she had a boyish figure. She should have been at home with her mother, not... screaming as the woman grabbed the top of her panties and ripped the flimsy material from her most private place, she did her best to conceal her young vaginal crack with her clasped hands.
"Right," the Mother Superior grinned. "Do you now think it was a good idea to answer me back?"
"No," the girl murmured, her head hung.
"I will not tolerate insolence. You only arrived yesterday, and already you're down here to be punished."
"She'd have been here whether she was rude or not," I said, wishing I hadn't.
"I beg your pardon?" the woman scowled. "How dare you speak to me like that? Never have I known... You, girl," she snapped. "Take that whip and thrash her."
"No, I..." the girl snivelled.
"Either you thrash her, or I'll thrash you."
Taking the whip, the girl stood by my side and gazed into my eyes. She had no choice, I knew as I offered her a slight smile. I winced as she raised the whip and brought it down gently across my burning buttocks. She was going to be in trouble, I knew. Unwillingly whipping me, the leather tails virtually falling over the glowing orbs of my bottom, she jumped as the Mother Superior grabbed the whip as pushed her aside. Lashing the burning globes of my bottom as hard as she could, the tails biting into my stinging flesh, she tossed the whip to the ground and grabbed the girl's arm.
"Kneel in front on her," she ordered her, pushing her to the floor. Turning the handle at the base of the metal pole, the steel bars leaving my stretched holes, the woman glared at the quivering girl. "Lick her," she said, her pale face grinning. "Lick between her legs."
"No, I..." the girl sobbed.
"You'll learn to do as I say when I say. No buts, no hesitation... lick between her legs, otherwise you'll have the whipping of your young life."
The whimpering girl kneeling before me and gazing at the yawning crack of my pussy, a tear rolling down her cheek, she moved her head forward. Her pink tongue pushed out between her full lips, she tasted the cream within my sex slit, tentatively licking me there, teasing the sensitive nerve endings within my vaginal valley. The Mother ordering her to push her tongue deep into my pussy and suck out my juices, the girl looked up, her wide eyes catching mine. This was in no way a punishment for the girl; it was to satisfy the Mother's craving to watch perverted lesbian acts. Would the woman join in? I wondered, watching her staring at the girl's pretty face.
As the girl's tongue slipped between the pink wings of my wet inner lips and drove deep into my hot sex duct, I felt a quiver run through my contracting womb. She did her best to comply with the Mother Superior's instructions, licking deep inside my drenched pussy and sucking out my juices. I could hear her swallowing, sucking and swallowing, drinking from my pussy. My clitoris swelled, although I didn't know why. My naked body chained, a girl tonguing my vagina... my clitoris shouldn't have swelled. The woman finally ordering the girl to kneel behind me, I wondered whether there'd ever be an end to the enforced debauchery and depravation.
"Lick her bottom," the woman snapped, yanking my firm buttocks wide apart, exposing the brown hole of my anus. I could feel the girl's tongue, tentatively tasting me there, licking the sensitive inlet to my rectum. Never had I known such depravity, such degradation. Again recalling my first meeting with the Mother Superior, her kindly welcome, her smiling face, I wondered what sort of woman she really was. Perverted, evil, wicked in the extreme... the girl's tongue entering the tight tube of my rectum, I breathed deeply as unfamiliar sensations permeated my inner core. No one had ever licked me there. The monk had crudely stripped me of my anal virginity, but no one had ever lovingly licked the dank walls of my rectum.
Her tongue was wet, delving, licking, teasing deep inside my rectum. I shuddered as the Mother yanked my firm buttocks further apart, opened my small hole wide to the girl's snaking tongue. Her saliva running down my anal crease, her hot breath warming the sensitive tissue of my anus, she pressed her full lips hard against the inlet to my rectum and sucked. Was she enjoying the crude experience? I wondered, her tongue again delving deep into my rectum. I could hear the slurping sounds, sucking sounds as she attended my spasming bottom-hole. Was I enjoying the illicit lesbian act? Her wet tongue running round the brown tissue of my anus, licking in circles, she drove into me again. Sucking, slurping, tasting, teasing... I shuddered again, my womb contracting, my vaginal juices flowing.
"It's almost time," the monk said, peering round the door.
"Right," the Mother Superior grinned. "Get these two dressed and working in the garden. I'll go and wait in my study."
As the woman left, the monk ordered the young girl to dress as he unchained me. Almost time? I pondered as he released my wrists. Time for what? Given my freedom, I pulled my habit over my aching body, veiling the most private parts of my young body. He seemed concerned as to our appearance as we adjusted our wimples and finished dressing. Were we to meet someone? I wondered. Perhaps someone was coming to inspect the nunnery and... I didn't know what to think as I watched the girl wiping my vaginal juices from her pretty face. We were to work in the garden; the Mother was waiting in her study... something was going on. Praying for an opportunity to escape, I hoped I'd meet the mysterious young man again. At least I'd survived the horrendous session in the torture chamber, I reflected as the monk led us out of the room - the torture chamber. But what was going on?