2003-01-11 - 9:45 p.m.
This one is as filthy as usual, but also fairly blasphemous as well.
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Now I am a nun in a convent.
I am afflicted with earthly desires. I confess them, at first, only to my dear friend; she confesses similar urges to me. At night, in the dark, we try to assuage each other in her cell, on her narrow bed.
She wants to keep our voluminous nightgowns on, but I insist we put them aside, because I want to feel her skin against my skin... I want that more than anything. She feels good; I love her. And then we kiss... gentle at first, but then with increasing urgency; we are both inflamed, hips thrusting. Eager, she draws my hand down to her sex; I do her one better and move down, spreading her thighs. I lower my head and taste her pussy.
"Shhh," I warn when she moans. Breathing hard she whispers an apology. My pussy is burning, but I wish to be a good friend, I want her to reach the earthly heaven first... thumbs spreading her furred folds, I lap at the hood of her clit. She squirms, hips bucking... mewing quietly, trying to stifle her mouth with one fist, from the sound of it.
"Shh," I whisper quietly once again, and slip a finger into her. She is wet... tight. She smells delicious. I continue laving her clit with my clever tongue. Her ragged breathing... the way she suddenly holds still, thighs trembling... that's what I do when I'm about to come. I keep licking her, relentless. Then her hips are bucking wildly and she cries out, wild throaty cries of abandon as she reaches climax. Her thighs are now clamped around my ears; I do not realize how loud her voice became, but suddenly there is a light and, as her thighs let me go so I can lift my head... I see the mother superior holding a lamp, staring in shock and disgust at us.
It could not be more damning. Both of us nude, me between her thighs, face flushed, her juices on my hand and face. The mother superior marches into the room, face hard, and, grabbing me by the arm, yanks me off my friend's bed.
I cry out in pain as I stumble. She does not alter her stride or even glance at me.
"Filth," she mutters as she marches me naked and barefoot down the cold stone corridors. Many sisters, roused from sleep by my friend's cries, stare curiously out from their cells. They all seem the same to me as I pass by, same nightgowns, same wide shocked eyes and mouths, same shorn haircuts. The mother superior drags me along at a brisk pace.
I realize with horror that she is taking me, not to her office, but the office of the bishop.
The mother superior throws me to the floor on the carpet in front of the bishop's desk. He raises his eyebrows.
"This -- filth," says the mother superior, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, "Your grace, I found her myself in another girl's cell, between the other girl's legs, both of them naked. This one had obviously incited the other girl to sin, and given her pleasure; it was the cries that attracted my attention."
"I see," murmurs the bishop, looking me over. I raise teary eyes to him, hoping for mercy. His lips curl slightly, but I cannot tell if it is a smile.
"At first it sounded like there was a cat in the convent," persists the mother superior. "Like meowing! I was looking for the filthy beast when the other girl screamed, and then I knew what was being done right under the roof of God's house..."
Now the bishop looks pleased. "Meowing...? This sounds like the direct influence of Satan. Well, mother superior, thank you for bringing her to me. I know just what to do. You may go..."
"But... your grace... what will be done to her...? Should she not be flogged??"
"Do not concern yourself. This is higher Church business. Good night, mother superior."
Choking back her frustration -- for she enjoys flogging us very much -- the mother superior aims one more glare at me and then, whirling, goes out the door. When it closes behind her the bishop comes out from behind his desk.
"Now then, daughter," he says, coming close, "perhaps you should confess?"
"I... I only wanted to make her feel good, your grace," I whimper.
"And did she make you feel good, my daughter?"
"N-no, your grace. There wasn't time...."
"Ah, I see. So you are the sinner... and you are yet unfulfilled. Good, good."
I look down miserably at the patterned carpet. There is a rustling. I look up, and find the bishop holding his erect cock in my face. It is dewy with juices at the tip. It does not smell entirely clean.
"Suck it, child."
I open my mouth to protest, and he pushes it in. It stretches my jaw wide.
"Ah... yes. Yes. Mmm... You suck well..."
He pumps it in and out; I struggle for breath around it.
"Oh, yes. Yes, child. Suck it. Suck, daughter. Oh, glory to God -- suck it, suck it, you slut!"
Semen, thick and bitter, pulses over my tongue, making me gag.
"Drink it all!" he pants. "You must not miss a drop, holy essence will help to purify you."
I gulp it down, shaking, then fall backward onto the carpet. Despite how awful this is... I burn with lust. This is the second person to come by the efforts of my mouth, without my reaching any pleasure.
Either I sleep for a time, or lose my wits and drift... When I come back to myself, there are more people in the room.
"She is afflicted with the devil," I hear the bishop saying, in a 'you know what I mean' kind of voice. "We must bring her to the altar, and baptize her inside and out with holy essence."
Confusion as they carry me. One or two hands keep sneaking to fondle my breasts, which bounce as they bring me into the magnificent royal chapel, where I have never been. The altar, though it is beautiful, is hard and cold. They tie me down on it, spread my legs and arms wide.
The chapel seems to be filled with priests, monks, two bishops beside the one the mother superior brought me to, and a cardinal... they look at me and lick their lips and rub themselves through their robes. It is very rare that they have an opportunity such as this.
The first bishop, who has already spent himself, stands up and says, "This sinful little creature is a temptress, a slut. The devil is inside her. Only the essence of holy men can save her. And so it is up to you, brethren. Shall we save her?"
Heirarchy is ignored as they rush at me; the first to reach me is the first to yank up his robes and plunge his stiff, quivering rod into my still-juicy hole. I open my mouth, crying out.
"Suck!" hisses the cardinal, and stuffs his cock into my mouth. "Suck, Jezebel!"
Each man spends a few minutes laboring at my mouth or my cunt before crying out and spending his holy load. Some grope at my bouncing tits. Some force their cocks deep into my gagging throat.
But no one touches my clit. No one does the one thing it would take to make me come like a cataclysm. That little pink nub suffers, stiff and swollen, aching to be diddled or licked, spanked, pinched, bumped into, even breathed on, anything... but their mission is to fill me with cum, and obviously not to give me relief. My hands are occupied; holy men to either side of me have wrapped them around their cocks and are using me to stroke themselves while they wait for the next available hole. If they could find a way to fuck my feet, I'm sure they would. But when some of them impatiently splash my skin with their cum the bishop urges them on.
"Yes, yes, outside and in! Fill the whore with essence, anoint her body too -- it's going to take a lot to retrieve this slut from damnation... see how she enjoys her scourging... how Satan has filled her with lust. She was caught creeping into other girls' rooms and licking their pussies till they too yielded to Satan's urges."
I want to protest, it was only one girl, my beloved friend... but this announcement of my crime clearly excites many of them.
"But you are not allowed to have relief, whore of Satan. Your punishment is to be baptized without that. Feel how you burn, Magdalene, and think of the burning of hell."
I whimper. Another cock jerks out of me; the holy essence is flowing out as fast as they pump it in. The bishop has recovered himself by now and he rushes forward between my legs.
"That's right, whore," he says, and shoves his cock in. "Feel the power of the Lord inside you. Working to spread His love. Oh yes. Do you feel it working?" He gasps, but I cannot answer, two monks are shoving their cocks into my mouth at the same time. They are notso big; I try to accomodate them. I am in a transport of need. Someone's cum splashes my breasts. The bishop reaches forward to rub it into my stiff nipples.
"Yes. Yes! Anoint the whore!"
His eyes crazed, he pulls out and moves his cum-slicked cock down to my anus. I realize what he's doing only as it's happening, as he shoves the thick cock in hard, forcing through shocked, tight muscles. I scream, then suddenly I am gargling cum. I struggle to swallow.
The bishop works his shaft in and out, groaning. "Oh, yes. Yes. You need to be baptized, inside and out, everywhere... Every filthy hole. Yes, slut, there... deep inside you. Ah, it feels good, does it not? If only you could come."
My pussy bobs there, red and streaming with mingled juices, hungry and longing for attention... but he just plows my asshole. A priest climbs on the altar and straddles me, pushing my cum-slippery breasts together around his dick, forming a tight flesh tunnel for him to fuck. It's hard to breathe with him on me, and with another cock in my mouth.
"AHHH...! Take that, Satan's little whore...!" His cock pulses deep inside my asshole; there's a wet noise when he pulls out.
That's not the end of it. Quite a few more cocks are stuffed into my mouth, squeezed between my tits, shoved into my squelching pussy, or wedged into my already sore asshole. I am drenched with enough holy essence to baptize a legion of whores.
At last they are all tired; wrung dry of cum. But still it is not enough. I burn with lust. Sighing, they leave in groups as they are worn out and wish to sleep. The bishop leaves me tied on the altar so that I may not pleasure myself. "We will have to baptize you again tomorrow," he promises me. The great doors close and I am alone in the chapel... or so I think.
The holy men have been working me over all night. The sun is starting to come up now, just beginning to glow in the huge stained glass windows. I hear footsteps.
"Who's there?" I whisper fearfully.
A figure moves forward into my line of vision, and -- silhouetted and haloed as it is by stained-glass sunrise light -- I think, in my fright and delirium, that it is an angel, come to punish me for this desecration of God's house.
But it moves forward, and then, gracefully bowing, leans down between my spread legs...
And then I am crying out, wordless a cappella peals of glory hallelujah, as a warm, agile, very human tongue laps at my distended, neglected nub and brings me over the edge into a shattering, obliterating orgasm.
It is my friend. She has followed to find out what happened to me, and she brings me the sweet benediction of release before untying me from the altar.
Together we escape, stealing peasant clothes and mixing into the market crowd. We will never go back to the convent. We assume new names and begin a new life together far away. We build a house far from other people, so that our cries of pleasure need bring no further unwanted attention.
When people ask, we say we are sisters.