Chapter Eleven

 

Olivia lay in bed in the infirmary. She thought it a little strange there were no other sick nuns with her, but was pleased there weren't. The peace and quiet was just what she needed.

The Mistress had brought her a telegram. It was from Flora, telling her to stay where she was for a while longer until she could arrange to have her collected. There was no indication of how long that might be. Olivia was deflated, to say the least, but she already had another idea forming. Her only chance of getting away now was in one of those delivery waggons, and then she would have to beg her way to Ottery, or back to London. This whole venture had been a disaster, and London now seemed like a safe haven by comparison. There must be some kind people out there who would help a young lady in trouble - surely!

The handsome nun who had helped bring her to the convent came into the dormitory, carrying a tray with bread and a jug of wine. For some reason Olivia felt she could trust her.

'Here we are,' said Sister Lupa, setting down the tray. 'Bread fresh from the oven and wine from our very own cellars.'

'Oh,' said Olivia weakly, 'I'm not sure I should drink alcohol.'

'Nonsense - it'll do you good.' Sister Lupa broke the loaf and poured a generous goblet of rich wine. It ran blood-red from the jug in the glow of the setting sun that peeped through the heavy rain clouds that rumbled past. She told Olivia to drink every last drop, and to make haste because she was due at the chapel for evening worship and she wouldn't leave until she was sure her patient had taken all her meal. Olivia ate and drank with gusto, and was surprised just how hungry and thirsty she was once she started. Quickly the bread and wine were devoured. With a smile of satisfaction that Olivia mistook for kindness, Sister Lupa settled her patient for the night and left.

Olivia snuggled down, feeling warm and comfortable. The wine made her feel good. She rolled onto her side and nestled under the crisp warm sheets. From the direction of the bell tower came a dolorous tolling. Olivia counted the strikes and slowly drifted into a heavy slumber.

 

She had no idea what time it was when she awoke. She listened to the unfamiliar hooting of owls and some animal or other scurrying across the window-ledge outside and scraping the glass as it tried to get in. She rolled onto her back and tucked the sheet tightly beneath her chin. With bleary eyes she stared at the vaulted ribs of the ceiling. In the dim candlelight they wavered to and fro, went out of focus, and then cleared again. Olivia blinked rapidly, trying to clear her fuzzy head, and then groaned as gradually the whole ceiling began to spin, gaining speed, faster and faster. The plain stone tiles seemed dotted with tiny specks of light, twinkling like stars - and in the middle a shape gradually formed... a naked woman swooping from the night sky! Olivia gave a cry of fright and tried to summon Sister Lupa with the small bell which had been left on the bedside unit for that very purpose, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't raise her hand to it. Her body had turned to jelly, the limbs limp and useless. She seemed to be floating upwards now, or was the vision still coming down to meet her.

'Help me...' Olivia wailed.

The beautiful vision was almost on top of her. Olivia could feel her sweet breath wafting against her cheek. It was just a bad dream; the wine disagreeing with her. It had to be.

But the vision was breathtakingly real. Despite her fear Olivia couldn't tear her eyes from it. It - she, climbed onto the bed and straddled Olivia's thighs, her own legs apart, the smile on her face devastatingly beautiful. Olivia closed her eyes, hoping the vision would be gone when she looked again, but now all she could see was the overhead painting in the punishment room.

She began to feel ill; the tighter she screwed her eyes the faster the stars span. She opened them again and the vision stared back at her with hypnotic amber eyes as wide as saucers. When the owl hooted again it was deafening, filling the whole dormitory and bouncing off the walls and ceiling.

Olivia began to shiver. The vision hovered inches above, her face blurring and somehow evaporating. With immense effort Olivia reached up and touched the tumbling hair and a soft warm cheek. It felt so real! She had to be real!

The vision took Olivia's hand and stroked it gently. She kissed each fingertip, and then slipped them one by one between her moistened lips. As the vision suckled a delicious calm emanated from her warm mouth and seeped into Olivia's whole body. Never had she felt so tranquil or so still... or so wonderfully aroused. Her nipples tingled and stiffened, and she mumbled only a token resistance when the vision folded down the blanket and sheet, untied the drawstring of her cotton nightgown, laid it open, and bent to take one of the willing buds into her mouth. For what seemed an eternity the hardened teat was nipped by teasing teeth and rolled and flicked by an incredibly skilful tongue. The mouth gradually opened wider and more of Olivia's breast forced inside.

A hand rested softly on her thigh and stroked; a touch she felt, and yet did not feel. The fingers barely glanced on her responsive skin, but the grip was firm, squeezing and progressing steadily higher. Olivia started and held her breath when the hand closed around her sex, the fingers gliding into her wet portal. They penetrated without waiting for any form of permission - just as Olivia prayed they would. The vision seemed to know exactly what Olivia needed, before she even did herself

'Please...' whimpered Olivia. 'Please don't torture me. I can't bear it. Please...'

The vision lifted from Olivia's yearning breasts and gracefully slithered down her body. The blanket and sheet rustled and were gone, and then Olivia felt her nightgown being tugged up her thighs and under her bottom until it lay around her middle. 'What is it you want?' the vision softly coaxed. 'What is it you desire the most?'

'You.' The admission was out into the tense atmosphere before Olivia had time to gather her befuddled thoughts.

'Me?' Hot breath tickled Olivia's twitching belly. 'You desire me more than anything else in the world?'

Olivia sobbed. She could feel her juices anointing the persistent fingers and her thighs instinctively opened to allow easier access. If her words didn't give her away, her body surely would. 'Yes, whatever - whoever you are, I need you to do as you wish with me.'

'Of course you do,' she heard, and then lips kissed her labia and a tongue found and flicked her clitoris. Olivia stiffened and arched her back; only her heels, arms, and shoulders touched the soft mattress. Her fingers clawed the bottom sheet. A hand cupped and squeezed her buttocks, and another stroked up her flat belly and ribcage to caress her panting breasts. She groaned with frustration as the generous mouth left her all too soon, but she knew there were more and even more exquisite delights to come.

Olivia's knees were eased wider apart and the vision knelt between them. Lips fluttered against her forehead and closed eyelids, and fingers coated with her own musk slipped into her mouth.

A mass of auburn hair tumbled around her. Olivia gasped for air, and a persistent tongue that danced against her own replaced the fingers. She locked her arms and legs around the vision, not wanting her to disappear. Something large and solid nudged into her groin. She groaned into the hot mouth locked against her own. Her mind returned to the scriptorium and the images she saw in the books. The figure, which was neither man nor woman, span through her head.

'Who are you?' she pleaded, pulling away.

The vision looked down at her with an inscrutable smile and gave a gentle thrust of her loins. Olivia tensed. Her blurred eyes saw the inviting breasts hovering just above her. They swayed firmly to and fro, the erect nipples asking to be sucked. Another gentle urge and her labia sucked around the phallus.

'It's so hard,' she sobbed.

'And it's all for you,' the vision whispered, and sank a little deeper.

Through her delirium Olivia knew the invading object could not be real; knew it was not of flesh and blood. It was too solid; there was no warmth in its contours. Yet as Olivia adjusted herself around it, shuffling her bottom and snaking her hips, it felt real enough. The vision gave one last push of her loins and Olivia gasped and raised her face to the comforting warmth between the swinging breasts. She was fully penetrated.

Arms squeezed between the mattress and her shoulders and hugged her tight. The two women kissed, breast against breast, nipple against nipple. The bed began to spin again, carrying them up to the starry sky.

'I saw you painted on the ceiling,' Olivia whispered. 'How is it you're alive inside me?'

'I am not dead,' she replied, 'but come alive to lie with you. Feel me. Engulf my rod.'

They rolled onto their sides, a confused tangle of limbs, hands and tongues, never still for a second. The temperature between them soared. Perspiration glowed on their faces and backs. Olivia's throat was parched.

'Now we are one,' the vision whispered. 'Joined together, never to part. Feel me inside you, Olivia. Embrace me.'

Olivia's vagina hugged the shaft, the muscles moving against it, feeling their way to its bulbous head. It was as if she had a man riding her. The penis was solid enough, but the body that held her was different. There were no rippling muscles on the torso, the arms were not powerfully built, nor the chest flat. Only the rigid shaft was real. Now it was moving, a gentle thrusting of hips and loins, and always the skin so soft and feminine against her.

Suddenly Olivia shook uncontrollably. The writhing body in her arms was a foreign land of soft undulating hills and valleys, a forest of sweet smelling flowers, a pool of unknown depths. She was drowning in its waters, being sucked to the bottom.

The vision gripped Olivia's buttocks. Their groins pressed together. Olivia searched blindly for her seducer's sex. She found the hard base of the shaft sprouting from within. Could it be possible that both of them were penetrated by the same organ; bound together, riding the same beast, sharing the same glorious sensations?

Olivia pushed her hips against those of her phantom lover, riding in unison, responding with a mirror image of every thrust and heave. 'You make love like an angel,' the vision whispered. 'Spread your wings and fly.'

Olivia was flying. Her body was soaring to the stars revolving around her. 'I can't get enough of you,' she rasped desperately. 'You feel so wonderful.'

'Better than any mortal,' whispered the vision.

'I - what do you - ooh!' Olivia was silenced as the phallus filled her again.

'You make me work very hard to satisfy you.' The gentle monotone was hypnotic. 'Say not a word more, and let me take you to places you never dreamed possible.'

Olivia closed her eyes and drifted on a white cloud of ecstasy. The poor bed creaked faster and faster beneath the powerful lunges. She grunted as their bellies slapped together again and again. She thought this bliss would never end. 'Kiss me!' she heard from somewhere. 'Kiss me, Olivia!'

Their lips mashed together and Olivia climaxed loudly into the open and sucking mouth of her lover. The orgasm drained her; she was totally spent. She slumped into the mattress and lay without moving, save for the heavy swell of her breasts. 'I've come...' she murmured drowsily.

The beautiful vision cupped Olivia's face. 'You have so much to learn, my angel,' she whispered huskily. 'But I shall teach you, and given time you will understand everything.'

The lovely face blurred.

'I'm so tired,' moaned Olivia.

'Rest then. Sleep contented. You are one of us now.' Olivia swooned under more stroking and kissing. She was too drained to do otherwise. Her limbs refused to move and offer any embrace in return. She just lay still, breathing deeply. The gorgeous penis slipped from her. It rested a while on her stomach - wet and warm. Showers of tiny kisses sprinkled over her face and breasts, sending her towards restful sleep.

She curled into a tight ball and muttered incoherently. She was at peace, but the images she had glimpsed in the books and seen in the chapel drifted through her dreams - sometimes lucid, and at other times a vague apparition. She saw naked women cavorting with devils. She saw angels fondly embracing. She heard the creaking of rollers and levers and the lashing of whips. She heard tormented wails and screams, and tried to close her mind to them all.

The bed creaked as the vision left her, and soft footsteps retreated into the candlelit gloom.