The Naughty Nun
by Spencer Brandt


FOREWORD 

Many and various are the ways of man, and while it is impossible to say that 
some societies or subcultures are better than others, yet it is a fact that 
no society can successfully eradicate man's basic instincts. 

This book is fictional, but it is designed to show just what can happen when 
a certain subculture, in this case the Church, attempts to outlaw human 
sexuality. It is a difficult task, but it is possible, for a time anyway, as 
the case of Sister Anne shows. 

But the sexual urge is strong, and if it is repressed in one place, it will 
come out in another. The results can be frequently disastrous. 

Sadism can result, leading to many instances of cruelty. As it is all too 
often just these repressed, sadistic individuals who are in charge of 
children and young people, people of an impressionable age, we can see that 
many disasters can result, disasters which can scar the lives of the young 
people forever. 

The Church does many fine things, but a knowledge of what can happen when 
certain members of it are able to develop a sadistic streak, and are able to 
put this into practice, are illustrated in a graphic manner in this novel. 

It is the hope of the publisher that adult members of the reading public 
will learn from it, and will then engage in appropriate social action to 
stop this cruelty. 

-The Publisher 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Sister Anne smiled as she watched the boys play baseball. It always gave her 
great pleasure to see them have fun, to engage in healthy, body building 
sport, sport which enobled the mind and the soul as well, developing team 
spirit, cooperation, the will to succeed, and other virtues too numerous to 
mention. 

"Come on! Show them where you live!" Little Tommy called out to Ed, who 
swung the bat standing hunched over the plate, glaring at the pitcher. Tommy 
was at second, waiting to run to third. 

"Where you live!" The words echoed as a haunting refrain through Sister 
Anne's mind. "Where you live!" How poignant and how sad! For all of these 
boys, all eighteen of them, and the spectators as well, diverse boys they 
were, from many different backgrounds and nationalities, but they all shared 
one thing in common, and that was where they lived. They all lived at Saint 
Mary's Orphanage in the city of Cool Valley in the State of Illinois. 

Ed swung and the ball whistled past him, slamming into the catcher's mitt 
with a hard plop, as though sinking into a deep pool. The sound gave Sister 
Anne a start, and a peculiar sensation, one which she had been feeling more 
and more lately, began to percolate up from that region between her legs, 
that particular region which she tried not to think about. But the harder 
she tried, the more it entered her mind, as though by forcing it out she 
only welcomed it in. 

Think of something else! This advice the Mother Superior had given her, and 
it was obvious, the right thing to do. Spend less time alone, get involved, 
get out, work with the children more. Yes! That was the right thing to do. 
Whenever evil thoughts started to enter the consciousness it was only 
because there was a void there which permitted them to enter. Eliminate that 
void! 

Sister Anne concentrated on the game, trying to eliminate the evil feelings. 
She watched Ed, as he swung the bat, waiting for the next pitch. It was easy 
to watch Ed. Sister Anne liked him a lot. She taught him geography, and he 
was a smart boy, willing and in fact eager to learn. He was also very 
handsome. Although only fourteen years old, he already appeared to be quite 
a young man. His dark hair and serious features, complexion slightly 
swarthy, nose a little too long perhaps, but that, she had been told, was 
the sign of intelligence. It was also the sign of passion-a big dick. No! 
Where had that thought come from? Sister Anne never thought about such 
things. The devil must have sent it! Eliminate such thoughts. Watch the 
game. 

"No hitter! No hitter!" They yelled, but Ed only gripped the bat harder and 
concentrated the more. It was two balls. Two strikes. One man on. Two outs. 
Top of the eighth. 

Sister Anne's eyes watched him closely, and saw his muscles ripple as the 
horsehair ball crossed the plate and he swung. 

She saw the sweat fly off his brow. She heard the bat connect with the 
speeding ball, so fast. It cracked, a loud knock. She heard the excitement 
of the crowd, but it seemed to roar like Yankee Stadium as the ball sailed 
high into the air, but not too high, not too high to interfere with its 
distance, for it kept traveling and traveling, and was still in the air, 
somewhere, flying like a bird, as Tommy rounded third and headed home. He 
ran happily across the plate and Ed followed and Sister Anne found herself 
more excited by this exciting turn of events in the game than she could have 
possibly imagined. Yes! It was working! Sports was good, sports was great, 
sports was an ideal way to keep her mind off evil, unwanted thoughts. The 
excitement seized her as the crowd roared, and then she began to shake as 
heat zoomed up from between her legs and invaded her whole body and suddenly 
Sister Anne felt wet down there, a strange sensation, and her whole body 
seemed to ripple and undulate with pleasure, and she almost fell down, so 
good did it feel. Yes! Sports was great! 

She looked up, barely able to stand. Something had happened, something 
terrible. The roar of the crowd had ceased. She looked over to home plate 
and there she saw Ed, lying in a pool of his own blood. This was terrible! 
Sister Anne raced over to the scene of the tragedy. 

"He spiked him! He spiked him sister! I saw it! He did it on purpose!" 

"Did not! Did not!" 

Sister Anne could see that another fight was brewing, but that was not her 
concern. The brother would take care of that, Brother Robert, who had been 
serving as the umpire. But Ed looked to be in a bad way, blood dripping from 
a wound on the side of his head. Had he been kicked in the head? How 
horrible! Sister Anne knew that she must get him to the nurse right away. 

"Can you stand up Eddie? Can you walk?" She said, bending down over him and 
trying to help him up. She was afraid that if he bled too much it might be 
serious, the best thing was to get him to the nurse right away. Maybe he 
would need stitches. 

"Sure. I'm not hurt too bad. It's nothing," Ed said, bravely, but she could 
tell that he was dizzy, that he was hurt perhaps worse than he knew. 

"Come and lean on my shoulder. That's the way Eddie. Lean on me, you're 
hurt. Yes, that's the way. Come on, I'll take you to the nurse." 

"Did not!" 

"You did!" 

"Did not!" 

"Did!" 

The two boys were almost at blows, Brother Robert rather ineffectually 
trying to separate them. But Sister Anne could not help. She had to get the 
injured boy to the infirmary so, his blood dripping onto her shoulder, this 
young angel of mercy led him away from the scene of brutality and incipient 
battle. 

Sister Anne was so taken up by this tragedy, by the fear for the boy's 
welfare, that she entirely forgot about the intense and rather new sensation 
which had gripped her so strongly only a few moments before, a sensation 
which she would have known, had she thought about it, was closely akin to 
those forbidden sensations, those thoughts and feelings of sexuality. 

She was young and quite innocent. A few slight incidents, some years 
previously, committed upon her unwilling, although not unresponding body by 
an elder uncle, had resulted in her parents committing her to education by 
the nuns, with the predictable result that Sister Anne grew up prim and 
strict and very religious, inculcated with the high ideals concerning purity 
and doing God's will, with the further and equally natural result that she 
too became a nun. 

A good nun she was, much loved by all the children in the orphanage, and 
taking much pride in her work, confident that she was faithfully doing God's 
bidding, and content to do so for the rest of her life, undisturbed by 
sensual, selfish desires. Undisturbed, that is, until recently. For the 
sexual impulses of a young and healthy girl can only be throttled for so 
long until they push their way to the surface, threatening to explode. And 
now Sister Anne felt them. How she felt them! 

She felt Ed's body pressing against hers as she led him across the grassy 
field, and even as she led him through the cool, dank corridors of the 
school leading to the infirmary. He breathed heavily, with pain perhaps, or 
perhaps as an effort to banish the pain, like a young martyr, she thought, 
and really admired his forbearance. His strong muscles pressed against her, 
and she could feel her skin feel warm there beneath her dark habit. She 
could smell his sweat, stirred up by the excitement of the game, by the 
competition and by the physical exertion, and it seemed to tickle her deep 
within her nostrils, exciting her. 

Sister Anne tried not to think dirty thoughts, tried not to desire the boy. 
But he was such a fine boy in every way, on the playing field, in class, and 
in his general behavior, praying, causing no trouble, breaking rules, yes, 
but not maliciously, only doing so with boyish high spirits. This she liked, 
for it showed that he was a real person. 

"Here we are, Eddie, now Sister Ellen will fix you up." Sister Anne said 
this hopefully. Sister Ellen was the nurse, and had a fair facility for 
dealing with minor abrasions and cuts, but Sister Anne well knew that if 
stitches were needed, or a tetanus shot, that they would live to call up old 
Doctor McCarthy who lived about a mile away. He was a retired physician who 
took on most of the medical chores for the orphanage, and was frequently 
called for in such cases. 

The infirmary was empty. "Sit here, Eddie and I'll see where Sister Ellen 
is." 

Ed watched Sister Anne glide away in search of the nurse. What a hunk of 
flesh, he thought. Must be nice, there under that habit. 

Sister Anne returned a few seconds later. "No one's here," she said, 
puzzled, for there was supposed to be a nurse on duty there all day. "Well, 
I'll do it," she concluded. 

She washed Ed's face with warm water and soap, cleaning the wound, and was 
highly gratified to note that the wound was not deep. The blood and the dirt 
had combined to make it appear far worse than it was. She noticed that Ed's 
shirt was torn. 

"Are you hurt here?" she asked, touching the side of his body. 

"Yes. I'm cut," he said, feeling the pleasure of the woman's soft, feminine 
hand pressing against him. He felt his cock begin to rise. He had dreamed of 
Sister Anne's body many times, of how round it was, rounder by far than any 
of the other attractive nuns, without in the least being fat and chubby, 
just a real fine figure of a woman visible even under the effective disguise 
of her unbecoming habit. He knew that she would look just beautiful without 
it on, and had dreamed many times of how she would look naked, so that now 
as Ed looked upon her, he could see her, naked as the day she was born, her 
firm high tits pointing straight at his mouth, her fine ass cheeks pulsating 
in the bright light of the infirmary, her flat belly, her mound of pubic 
hair, her juicy cunt! His cock pulsated too, ready for action, as Sister 
Anne carefully, like a surgeon, removed his shirt and began to wash the 
wound on his side, just above his waist. 

"Ooooh! It hurts!" he said, and it did, but he was experiencing the pleasure 
more than the pain, for her hands were soft and her caresses felt just fine. 

Ed's head began to swim with the lust he was feeling. He was tempted to grab 
her hand and pull it right down to his cock. He wondered what she would do. 

Sister Anne kept on caressing the side of Ed's body even after the wound was 
fully cleaned. It, too, was but a slight wound just barely bleeding, just a 
deep scrape really. But her hands could not remove themselves from his body. 
It was a young body but was already hard as a grown man's and as Sister Anne 
touched it she felt the feeling grow within her, the feeling of lust and of 
desire, and this time such feelings were not able to be subliminated, for 
the body was just too close, too nude, to be ignored. Sister Anne's hand 
began to travel to new places, touched his chest, his belly, traveled down, 
lower, lower. Her eyes attached themselves to his crotch, where she noticed 
a bulge in his pants, and she knew that this bulge indicated desire on his 
part as well. 

"Oh," she moaned in a low tone, a tone of surrender, as her fingers closed 
around the bulge. 

"Oh, yeah!" Ed moaned in a voice equally low, not wanting to startle the nun 
out of her apparent reverie for fear of scaring her off. It felt just fine, 
what she was doing to him, especially as her grip tightened on his cock and 
she began to stroke it up and down. 

Sister Anne no longer knew what she was doing. It was as if her mind had 
dissassociated herself from her body and she now felt herself watching, 
looking on as though it were somebody else doing these things, things which 
she had wanted to do for so long. 

But Ed could no longer bear to have her caress his prick without having her 
really caress his prick, so at the risk of startling the nun into full 
consciousness of the sin which she was committing, he reached down, unzipped 
his fly, and pulled his prick out, so that it stood up, naked and proud, 
staring right at the Sister's face. 

Her eyes regarded it hungrily. It was pink and seemed to glow and was even 
bigger than she had imagined. For a young boy to have such a huge dick was 
something she had not thought possible. Not that it was in actual fact all 
that huge, but to Sister Anne, who knew very little of such things, it 
seemed to be truly monstrous. 

Her hand seized it again, and felt this time its fleshy warmth, so delicious 
against the skin of her hand. She rubbed it up and down, feeling it slide 
delightfully through her fingers, which provided in turn a friction that 
made his prick jump and quiver with new found life. 

Emboldened by her caresses, Ed reached out for the nun. His hand sought for 
her tits, those fine tits which he had thought about so often. He plunged 
his fingers against the nun's chest, seeking, and he felt the soft 
resiliency of her breasts beneath his grasp, bouncing, moving, soft and 
squishy. 

Somehow, the feeling of his hands against her breasts woke Sister Anne to 
the consciousness of sin faster than stroking his prick, perhaps because the 
violation of her own body, which all women, not just nuns, are taught to 
protect, was taking place. 

In any case, she reacted negatively, pushing his hand away. 

"Stop that!" she protested, a trifle shrilly. "What are you doing? Stop 
that!" 

At the same instant, Sister Anne felt his prick still clutched so firmly 
between her fingers, and she let it go. But the prick did not drop down. 
Excited, it bobbed about in the air, tall and stiff as the school flagpole. 

But Ed didn't want to stop, he was so excited. He reached for her again, 
this time bringing his face close to Sister Anne's and trying to kiss her. 
His young body hungered all over for her tender sexual embrace. 

"No! No! Stop!" she cried, fighting him off, pushing him off. Without 
knowing it, Sister Anne was behaving just like any-teenage flirt, or tease 
would be a better, albeit more brutal term. Ed knew this, and he behaved 
precisely as he would in such a situation, pressing his point. 

"But Sister Anne, I want you so much! And I know you want me! Please! Just a 
little kiss!" 

His strong young arms circled her and drew her to him and his lips sought 
her lips, coming closer, closer, so that she could feel his breath upon her 
face. She tried to fight him off but she did not possess the strength, 
neither physically nor spiritually, for she, too, wanted him, as 
much-no-even more, than he wanted her, for he was a man! 

He opened his mouth wide and their lips met. Her mouth responded, 
instinctively, for she had never been kissed this way before, or at least 
not since childhood, with her uncle, but that was just a bad, fading memory. 

Her lips opened beneath his, which touched, pressed; and his tongue probed, 
forcing its way into her mouth, kissing her deeply and with intense hot 
passion, his tongue exploring all over her mouth, touching her teeth, her 
upper palate, her tongue, making her tongue respond, wrapping itself around 
her, twining together like snakes. 

And all the while Ed's hands were exploring as well, fondling her firm young 
breasts, squeezing them, touching them as hard and forcefully as he could, 
without hurting her, feeling her flimsy bra give way beneath his probing 
fingers, lifting it up off her tits so that they bounced free, free to move 
underneath her flowing habit, free to fill up his cupped palms, free to 
excite him. 

Ed pressed tightly against her, his long, stiff prick digging its way into 
her belly, pressing ever onward, feeling the heat rise up from her cunt, 
rise up like an aroma, like a mating call, calling him forward, calling him 
to come inside. 

It was as though Sister Anne had entered a kind of dream, as if she had 
stepped right out of the real world. Her hands touched Ed all over, touched 
his hair, his back, his hard body. The feelings which he was exciting in her 
were greater than any she had ever felt. It was as if everything, her whole 
life, had been just a prelude, leading up to this moment. 

Ed's hands reached down, sought for her cunt, felt the heat there, the soft 
squishiness, the desire, touched her, fondled her. His other hand squeezed 
her ass. Ed marveled at how fully developed she was, a real woman, curves 
all over, just incredible, something to cherish and to hold. His hands 
squeezed her asscheeks, feeling them give beneath his hard exploring 
fingers. He touched her as firmly as he could, and he felt her moan silently 
in his grasp, as though she were afraid to voice the emotions and sensations 
which he could feel pulse through her, as though she was afraid of waking 
up, of disturbing this wonderful sexual dream. 

"No," she moaned, trying to fight away from him, but Ed could tell that it 
was just a momentary impulse, just her conscience fighting its way bravely 
and with great difficulty to the surface, perhaps for the last time. Ed 
certainly hoped so, for Sister Anne was one woman whom he just had to 
possess, and soon. She had just turned him on too much, it would not be 
healthy for him to stop now, he had to fuck her, had to feel her soft 
quivering cunt slide up around his hard dick, had to drive her wild with 
lust and fulfillment. 

Ed reached below, grabbing her habit, pulling it up, up, higher, ever 
higher, all the while kissing her, keeping her busy, sensually occupied, 
until her thighs were available, her upper thighs. And then he raised the 
habit up above her cunt, above her waist. His hands touched her ass, now 
covered only by her underwear, the dull, unsexy sort which the nuns always 
wore. But it didn't bother Ed, for he knew how to remove it. 

It was simple: grab it hard, and yank down firmly. Voila! The panties were 
down, down around her thighs, pulling down more, down about her knees, more, 
down somewhere about Sister Anne's lovely soft calves, Ed did not know 
precisely where, nor did he care, for it did not matter to him. All that 
mattered was that her cunt was not unfettered and ready, nothing in the way 
of his probing, questing, joyful fingers. 

Sister Anne gasped with wonder as she felt the boy's fingers touch her cunt. 
She had only been touched there in her dreams, and by her mother when she 
was very young. So this was an entirely new experience. She felt her cunt 
quiver with excitement as Ed's forefinger jabbed out and came into contact 
with her clitoris. Her head jerked forward spasmodically and her mouth 
opened wide, hurling out low grunts of satisfaction mingled with perturbed 
shock. 

While Ed touched her clit with his forefinger, his thumb probed even deeper, 
feeling along the labia of her cunt. They were loose and juicy, open wide, 
ready for fingers, for a cock, for anything. The juices were flowing down 
and out, coming up from the depths of her cunt, lubricating her, getting her 
ready. 

"Ohhhh," she moaned, no longer able to protest, to act the tease, able only 
to feel the probing fingers and to feel Ed's hot breath as it blew in spasms 
against her red, excited face, driving her wild. 

Ed couldn't believe his good luck. Sister Anne was his! Nothing could stop 
him now! She was wet and getting wetter, her will was dissolved, sex was all 
that was on her mind. His fingers, touching her cunt, manipulating and 
fondling her there in her genital region, these fingers which were none too 
expert, were nonetheless responsible. These little fingers, five fingers, 
had replaced, almost instantaneously, all the dogma and religious teaching, 
all the thoughts of God, which had heretofore guided and directed Sister 
Anne's life. Five little fingers! Ed laughed silently to himself as his 
prick jumped wildly in the air. 

His fingers were sliding in and out of her cunt without any restrictions 
now. Sister Anne lay back against the nurse's examining table, totally lost 
in a world of newly found sexual bliss, and she just let Ed do with her what 
he wanted. Her habit was up above her waist, and Ed had a fine, unobstructed 
view of her juicy, red cunt. It looked so fine! The juices oozed constantly 
out of it, and it was tight, feeling great around his thrusting, hungering 
fingers. How great it would feel around his shaft he could easily imagine, 
and he couldn't wait to try her out in that fashion. 

"Get up here," he said, urging the Sister up onto the table, where he hoped 
to lay her down, climb on top, and stick it in. "Come on, it'll be more 
comfortable." 

But these words, the first that had been spoken in several long, hot minutes 
of sexual play, had quite the opposite of their intended effect. For rather 
than persuade Sister Anne to submit to the ultimate sexual embrace, they 
awoke her, as a sudden snap of the fingers to a hypnotized subject, to 
reality, to what was happening to her body, her mind, and much more 
importantly to Sister Anne, to her soul. 

"No!" she cried, a trifle loudly, protesting in this way against herself as 
well as against Ed, "Stop! This is wrong! Oh! Oh!" She was virtually 
whining, covered with shame at finding herself doing such things, at finding 
herself so excited by carnal emotions, "What's happening? How can this be?" 

Sister Anne pushed the young boy's eager hands away from her body, shoved 
them away repeatedly for he kept on reaching back, incapable of leaving her 
healthy round body alone, for it attracted him as though it were a physical 
force like gravity. "Stop that! Stop that!" 

The Sister pulled her habit down, but then she realized that her panties 
were still down around her ankles, preventing her from moving. 

"Oh!" she exclaimed, with mounting annoyance, as though it were the devil in 
the room who had done this to her, rather than her own quite natural womanly 
desires. 

Sister Anne bent down to pull up or pull off her panties, Ed could not tell 
which. 

"Please! Don't," he said. "We weren't doing anything wrong. It's natural. 
All the nuns do it." 

Sister Anne, having pulled her panties up onto her, looked up at Ed sharply 
at this last statement. 

"What have you said, Ed? How can you lie like that? You are adding sin to 
sin." 

"It's no lie. You know I never lie. They all do it." Ed insisted so strongly 
that Sister Anne was shocked, astounded. Perhaps he was telling the truth! 

"Come on, Sister Anne! I've always liked you the best of all the Sisters, 
but you take it all too seriously. Don't you know that this chastity stuff, 
this idea of sin, is all out of date? Nobody really believes it any more. I 
doubt if they ever really did. Even the Mother Superior...." 

"No!" she yelled. "That I cannot believe!" Sister Anne had a great deal of 
respect for the Mother Superior, because she reminded her of her own mother, 
who was so religious, so pious, so good, who had inculcated in her daughter 
such strong virtues and morals. 

"But you like it when I touch you. It feels good, you know that, and you 
know you need it. How can anything that is so natural be sinful? How could 
God design it that way?" Ed was persuasive, but these were old arguments, 
and Sister Anne had encountered them before, so that her answers came out 
almost by rote. 

"It is to test us, to tempt...." 

"Bullshit! Sex is for pleasure, for man and woman to love each other. It 
gives them a common ground, somewhere to come together...." 

As Ed said this he came to her and took Sister Anne in his young, strong 
arms, holding her tightly. She was so upset that she didn't know what to do, 
and she could not pull herself away. Her eyes looked down at the floor, but 
what she saw instead, protruding its way into the line of her vision, was 
Ed's hard cock, still standing up at full attention, and quivering, asking 
her for her attention. 

Sister Anne gasped with a mixture of pleasure and pain as she took the cock 
between her fingers and stroked it, watching it move beneath the firm 
pressure of her fingers. 

"Oh, Lord, forgive me," she moaned in a low tone, and then, impelled by some 
impulse which she could not understand, something half between penance for 
her evil thoughts and actions, and a pleasurable thing in its own right, 
thus one of those very actions, the Sister dropped to her knees, as though 
in prayer, but what she did instead was to take the prick and guide it 
toward her mouth. 

Ed smiled with wonder and awe and anticipation of pleasure as he saw Sister 
Anne's mouth open wide, ready to receive his hard, horny cock. Her lips were 
sensuous and full and they looked great, so his cock veritably jumped up and 
into her mouth. He quivered all over as he felt those same soft lips close 
upon the head of his cock, and then he almost jumped out of his skin as he 
felt the nun's tongue slither out and wash across his cock head, licking it 
avidly and with what seemed to him to be real, incredible passion, passion 
which he had never expected, or at least not soo soon, from this rather 
inexperienced and quite frightened, also ashamed, nun, who he knew had never 
done anything like this before. 

"Oh, that's so good," he moaned. 

The Sister was certainly a novice at cocksucking, but she evidently 
possessed an inborn talent, and it was surely coming out now, under the 
stress and strain of the passion which was racing through her. Sister Anne's 
head was rising up and down on his cock, falling and rising, as her tongue 
swirled around the shaft in a manner that was most hypnotic, really driving 
him wild with pleasure. Her tongue touched the base of his cock and then 
traveled slowly all the way up, flickering out and kissing the cock in 
selected spots, surprising him, so that he never knew where the cock would 
land, adding a real element of suspense to the maneuver so it really felt 
better. But all the while her lips were pressing tightly about his cock, 
creating great friction, a fine surface for his cock to travel in and among. 
But what Ed liked perhaps best of all was when her tongue touched the very 
tip of his cock very lightly, for that was perhaps the most sensitive spot 
on his whole person. 

Ed touched her head and caressed it through the habit, feeling her hair 
underneath. How he wanted to rip all of her clothing off and see her naked! 
But that might frighten her and cause her to stop sucking his' cock, and 
that was the last thing that Ed wanted, so he decided not to risk it. He 
just let her tongue and her lips, and her cheeks as well, do their fine work 
on his masculine tool. 

Suddenly he heard footsteps, walking in the corridor. It must be the nurse, 
he thought, Sister Ellen, coming their way. Now, Sister Ellen he knew had 
made it with a lot of the guys, although not with him, so he knew she 
wouldn't be shocked to come upon this scene, although Sister Anne was known 
as a prude. Sister Anne, though, would certainly be upset to be found in 
such a position, as as she was so new to sucking and all that followed from 
it, Ed was afraid that it would set back her sexual development by years, 
and perhaps forever. So he warned her. (She was too involved in sucking his 
cock to notice the sound of the footsteps herself.) 

"Sister Anne! Someone's coming!" 

The footsteps got closer and Sister Anne kept sucking. 

"Sister Anne! Someone's coming! Ahhh!" Ed yelled, as he found out indeed 
that someone was coming, namely himself, as his cock began to heave and 
spurt, and a heavy load of white creamy come began to shoot from the tip and 
to fill up Sister Anne's mouth. 

This was something that the Sister, who had not known what to expect, really 
had not expected, hot come shooting hard and quickly into her, almost 
causing her to gag and choke. But she did the best she could do, swallowing 
it down, although much of the come gathered at the corners and sides of her 
mouth. 

"Someone's coming ... coming...." Ed man aged to gasp out, as he pulled his 
still-pulsating and dripping cock from her mouth and quickly plunged it back 
into his pants, zipping them up to conceal the guilty weapon. 

The warning finally penetrated to Sister Anne's sex-fogged brain, and she 
quickly stood up, just as Sister Ellen walked into the infirmary. 

"What is this?" Sister Ellen demanded, in a huff. She had never liked Sister 
Anne, considered her a stiff prude, and besides, she was greatly jealous of 
Sister Anne's beauty. Sister Ellen was rather plain and dumpy, while Anne 
was beautiful, with delicate features, high sexy cheekbones, clean pink 
skin, a small, pert nose, sensuous lips, and the most rounded womanly figure 
in the entire orphange, bar none, maybe even in the whole city. 

Sister Anne was quick to respond, doing her best to control the emotions 
which were racing through her mind, a crazed mixture of sexual passion, 
shame, and self-loathing. "Ed hurt himself ... playing baseball," she 
wheezed out, looking Sister Ellen straight in the eye. "He was bleeding 
profusely. I thought he might even need stitches. So I brought him here. 
Someone is supposed to be here at all times," she directed this barb at 
Sister Ellen in an attempt, rather feeble, for Sister Ellen was older and on 
more sure ground, psychologically speaking, "but as you were gone, I took 
care of it, washing the wound." 

"I see," Sister Ellen responded coldly and with a definite hint of sarcasm 
in her voice. "I see that the wound," this last word almost dripped with 
sarcasm, "was not so serious as you imagined." 

"No, not so serious," Sister Anne responded. 

"Well, you may go now. I'll take care of the young patient," Sister Ellen 
said, ushering Sister Anne out of the room and turning to confront Ed, who 
trembled with fear. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Sister Anne's thoughts and emotions were all embroiled in absolute 
confusion. Never before since coming to the nunnery at a young and tender 
age had she felt so strange. Before, everything in her world had made sense. 
If she ever had any questions about anything, about how to live her life, 
about the meaning of it, about the meaning of anything, all was answered by 
the dogma and teachings of the Church, and these could be found in the Holy 
Bible, or if that source were not particular or specific enough for each 
problem as it arose, she could search further into the books of explication, 
or if these books, too, failed her, Sister Anne had only to go to her Mother 
Superior, whose wisdom and experience was unparalleled and never failed her. 

But how could she deal with the problems which faced her now? She had 
sinned, sinned as no nun before, she was quite sure, had ever sinned. It was 
bad enough to have such sinful thoughts as had been pursuing her lately, 
thoughts of cocks and of fucking, lustful thoughts concerning not only men, 
which would be bad enough, but the boys in the orphanage, her charges, who 
had been put there for protection and to be brought up in an atmosphere of 
religiosity and temperance, not licentious sexuality and perversion. What 
had she done! She had sucked the poor boy's cock! Would he ever get over the 
humiliation, the trauma to his young and still developing personality? 
Sister Anne could only pray to Heaven that he would. 

And what he had said about the Mother Superior-it was absurd, of course, 
something he had heard from someone else, not a deliberate lie, just wrong 
information. But how could young Ed, who was such an intelligent boy, such a 
good student, how could he believe such an obviously ludicrous story? 

Sin! The thought of it pursued Sister Anne as she hurried down the corridors 
of the orphanage. She had a class in geography to teach that afternoon, but 
she simply didn't feel herself up to it. Everything was too confusing. 
Sister Anne entered the classroom and her eyes swept the room, eyeing the 
boys and the girls, young people all, and quite innocent, thirteen, fourteen 
years, absolutely uncorrupted. Sister Anne lifted her eyes to Heaven and 
breathed a silent prayer that these young children, one and all, be spared 
from her corrupting, evil influence. 

Then she turned to the class, and what she saw surprised and horrified her 
as she had never been horrified before, for wherever a young boy was 
sitting, she saw not a boy, but a cock, a huge monstrous cock sitting there 
in the chair and regarding her with a hungry glare. 

Sister Anne's eye almost bulged out of her head, but she controlled herself. 
If there was one thing that life as a nun had taught her, it was how to 
control herself. She had failed miserably at this shortly before, when she 
had found herself driven to suck Ed's cock, but she would not fail now. No, 
she should not show these children what was happening to her, how the demons 
were invading her mind and body. There was only one thing to do, and that 
was to call off the class immediately, before things got any worse. 

"Class dismissed," she announced without any explanation. The students 
needed none. They whooped with joy and raced out of the room, young girls 
and young penises. 

She had to see the Mother Superior, had to get help quickly before all was 
lost, before the demons of hell seized her forever and carried her away. 

Sister Anne paused by the door to the Mother Superior's quarters. She 
prepared to knock, her fist formed, tiny girlish fingers clutched together, 
and raised itself to plummet onto the hardwood door. But then Sister Anne 
paused, for she heard sounds, strange sounds that penetrated to the depths 
of her soul, sounds coming from Mother Superior's room. 

She listened. "Uhhhh ... uhhhh ... OOOO!" 

Sister Anne could not have said what these sounds signified, except that 
they evidently were produced by a human throat, the throat, no doubt of the 
Mother Superior. They were long, slow moans, and the first thought that came 
to the young nun was that the Mother Superior was in pain, perhaps suffering 
from an attack of some kind. Surely she must rush in and help her! 

But some other impulse restrained Sister Anne, perhaps a deeper, more human 
understanding, which her conscious mind refused to acknowledge. 

Then she heard further moans, and these moans were from another person, were 
deeper. They sounded to her somewhat ... masculine! 

"Ahhhhh ... ooohhhh, aaarggh...." 

They sounded deep and full of passion. Yes! Passion! Suffering! Pleasure in 
suffering! 

Sister Anne almost swooned dead away, but she steadied herself by reaching 
out and grabbing the handle of the door to the Mother Superior's room. 
Perhaps it was an unconscious desire to witness the scene which was occuring 
within the room, but in any case her movement had the same effect, for the 
door glided open, quietly, half open, and when Sister Anne managed to focus 
her eyes what she saw gave her a deadly shock, like a kick in the head, only 
worse, for it penetrated deeply into her entire conception of humanity and 
morality and in fact of God. 

Sister Anne did not want to see this, but something drew her eyes 
irresistibly toward the bed and held them there so that they could not move. 

There on the bed the Mother Superior, a woman of about forty years with a 
full figure, rather matronly, perhaps, but still sexy, with large full 
breasts, a fairly thin waist, and awesome hips and a fine, fleshy ass, was 
rising up and down on top of Brother Mark's prick, which was buried right in 
her cunt. 

Brother Mark was lying on his back, thrusting up vigorously, plunging his 
cock deeper and deeper into the Mother Superior's cunt as she rode him like 
a bucking bronco. 

Sister Anne was disgusted, but also fascinated, for though she had heard and 
in fact during her sinful moments even read about the act of fucking, she 
had never witnessed it, yet alone experienced it. It was even more bizarre 
and strange than she had thought. 

She was fascinated by the way the Mother Superior kept on moving, moving in 
all directions, swinging her hips lasciviously about, from side to side. And 
also the way she thrust her hips up and down. Her tits bobbled around a lot 
too, like two balloons let loose from a circus parade, as she bounced her 
body up along the shaft of Brother Mark's penis, her tits bounced up too, 
and as Sister Anne watched they seemed to move in slow motion, flopping 
slowly up in the breeze created by their two bodies slapping rhythmically 
together, rising and changing shape as they rose, all the flesh seeming to 
move forward right into the nipples, which were hard and distended, like two 
arrow heads. 

Sister Anne had never seen nipples look like that, so stiff and protuberant. 
She had an odd thought, but one appropriate to the scene she was witnessing: 
they looked to her like two penises. 

That thought made her look at Brother Mark's penis, as it appeared slipping 
in and out of the Mother Superior's cunt. It looked strange, a red bulbous 
mass, as it appeared and then just as suddenly disappeared, as her cunt 
swallowed it up. Amazing. When the prick drew back, out of the Mother 
Superior's cunt, it seemed so monstrously huge that she couldn't imagine 
that any cunt could take in any part of it. But then it would completely 
disappear. 

Sister Anne's head bobbed back and forth with the rhythm of their fucking, 
so involved in it did she become. Her cunt began to grow more and more 
excited, until it seemed to her that it was she who was lying astride 
Brother Mark, and it was her cunt which was receiving his cock and its 
endless series of hard thrusts. 

The juices of sexual lubrication began to run down between her thighs. She 
licked her lips slowly, and her hand sought her breast, to squeeze it and 
feel pleasure in that way, as she watched the invigorating scene going on 
before her eyes. 

"Ohhh! Ahhh!" the Mother Superior moaned, as she rammed her cunt down on 
Brother Mark's dick as hard as she could. It felt great inside of her, 
filling her right up. She really loved Brother Mark, for he had the biggest 
cock of anyone in the orphanage. She loved making it with the boys because 
they were so fresh and full of burgeoning life, but when it came to ultimate 
satisfaction, she preferred Brother Mark every time. He was also quite 
expert, a real professional lover, as it were, and he really knew how to 
drive his prick into her in the way which pleased her the most. 

He drove his cock into each crevasse of her cunt, a really large cunt and 
one that had been fucked many times in her years on earth. She needed a 
large cock and one that was quite expert in order to give her the sensations 
which she needed. 

Brother Mark, in his turn, loved to fuck her because she really let go, 
really went wild. He had, of course, heard about the pleasures of fucking 
young, fresh, tight cunt, young girl cunt, and he knew quite a bit about 
that, as the presence of so many young girls there at the orphanage really 
afforded him the opportunity of making good and frequent use of their cunts, 
which he knew how to arouse easily and quickly and with great proficiency, 
but although their cunts sure felt fine as they surrounded his immense 
throbbing member, still there was something which their young bodies could 
not give him, something which he could only get from a woman like the Mother 
Superior. That was the feeling of a real, fleshy, full-grown woman giving 
her whole, losing all of her inhibitions in his carnal embrace, a woman who 
had really been around and had fucked many men so that she fully appreciated 
what an expert he really was. Oh, the young girls appreciated him all right, 
they loved his cock and got off on the way he shoved it so vigorously into 
them. But they were young, and could not know just how fine a fucker he 
actually was. Many of them got off just as much when fucking one of the 
younger brothers, or even one of their cohorts there in the oprhange, some 
boy of no more than fourteen or fifteen years who barely knew one end of his 
cock from the other! No, give him an older woman every time! 

His hands grabbed the Mother Superior's breasts and grabbed them and 
squeezed them hard, so hard that the flesh oozed out from between his 
fingers, so hard that it almost hurt her, so hard that she loved it. Her 
nipples shot out like two pink flame-throwers under the expert urging of 
Brother Mark's digital manipulations, and her cunt kept on splashing its 
love juices over his enflamed and swollen cock, swollen with the passion 
that was about to burst through in a violent eruption, an eruption which 
Brother Mark felt fast approaching the more the Mother Superior moved up and 
down on top of his ramrod. 

"Ohhhh!" he moaned loudly, and his groans affected Sister Anne almost as 
much as they affected the Mother Superior, who herself seemed on a fast 
train ride to bliss. 

Sister Anne touched herself between her legs and began to frig herself 
rapidly, her hand automatically doing whatever it could do to bring her body 
the sexual gratification which she saw the Mother Superior so thankfully 
receive from the hard cock of Brother Mark, satisfaction, which she would 
have liked to receive likewise, but for now her hand would have to do. It 
would not be right to break in on the scene before her. Sister Anne was 
afraid of the wrath of the Mother Superior, who was her guide in all things, 
if she so much as saw Sister Anne there, watching, masturbating. Sister Anne 
was ashamed of her behavior, but felt herself compelled by a strange mixture 
of emotions to keep on watching, and she could not have left that doorway 
even if she had wanted to. 

Here she was, seeing the woman whose purity she respected above all else, 
being ravished by a Brother.' With a moan of passion that was so loud it 
seemed to penetrate deep within Sister Anne's inner core, the Mother 
Superior began to come. Her body thrashed around now more even than before, 
like a wild, whipped mare, like a tropical storm. And that was how she felt 
as she burst in torrents about Brother's Mark's courageous cock, the 
floodgates of her cunt suddenly opening wide and letting loose the 
overflowing hot juices, more like gases really, that flowed down and all 
over his groin and his cock, as she flopped about crazily. 

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" Brother Mark answered back in a series of hoarse and 
increasingly spasmodic cries of pleasure, with such an intense sound that 
they almost seemed like the most excrutiating pain. But his prick was 
jumping and shooting out its load of semen straight into the Mother 
Superior's over-eager cunt, which thrashed about lewdly to receive the 
Brother's gift, his offering, his hommage. No, it was no pain that Brother 
Mark felt, only pleasure of the most body satisfying sort, pleasure which 
left him drenched and spent, but pleasure nonetheless. 

Sister Anne could no longer keep still. The excitement on the bed had 
traveled across the room and had driven her to such peaks of feverish 
excitement that she was now masturbating herself shamelessly, almost without 
caring if she were discovered at it or not, thinking about nothing at all, 
but just lost in a quick whirl of unknown lust. 

Lucky for her that the occupants on the bed were so overwhelmingly occupied 
with their own sexual accomplishments and could not hear, could not see, 
could in no way perceive anything that was happening outside of themselves. 
Their bodies twining together in a lewd and lascivious manner, the Mother 
Superior and the Brother were tangled and groaning, his prick flopping free 
now, gradually sinking back to its flaccid state, even as the Mother 
Superior's fingers reached down to caress it tenderly, as she groaned with 
passion that had still not exhausted itself, although her orgasm had just 
passed. She was a wild woman, with a lot of sexual stamina. 

Brother Mark's prick looked so good to her that she just could not let it 
go, not without a fight anyway, so knowing how much the good Brother 
appreciated a post-coital blow job, the Mother Superior quickly slid her way 
down and opened her lips wide, closing them upon the head of the Brother's 
slightly limp, growing limper, dick. 

"Ummmm," he moaned with new pleasure as he felt her soft and exquisitely 
juicy lips slide over the head of his cock, touching him there with passion. 

"Ah!" He expostulated, somewhat more loudly, as her tongue jabbed out from 
between her wide lips and coated the underside of his slippery cock with a 
layer of saliva, hot and tasty from deep within her. 

She kissed his cock over and over again and tongued it frantically, but if 
by all of this she hoped to prevent it from growing small, then her efforts 
were to no avail. 

The cock grown small, the two participants on the bed grew quiet, although 
Sister Anne sensed that in the scene there still remained the strong 
possibility of renewed action, for while the Brother lay his head back and 
was apparently dead to the world, the Mother Superior's eyes never left his 
dick, and her eyes glowed with an unearthly fire, the same fire which Sister 
Anne had seen in them many times, during discussions of prayer or of faith, 
an expression which had earned the Mother Superior a reputation of great 
piety. But what did they mean now? 

Disgusted and appaled, at herself as well as at the two undraped figures on 
the bed, Sister Anne decided to take this break in their sexual activity as 
an opportunity for her to make her escape. She knew that she could do this 
as soundlessly as she had entered, so there was no fear of being caught, so 
quietly as a mouse, Sister Anne slipped out of the room, wiser but sadder 
than when she had entered it, and with none of her omnipresent worries in 
any way solved. She was still one mixed up nun. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Sister Anne spent the evening in concentrated prayer and meditation, 
imploring God to forgive her for her sins and asking what to do, both about 
her sins and about her new-found knowledge. She prayed for the Mother 
Superior and for Brother Mark, and she prayed for all the others, though she 
knew them not, who had fallen to temptation. 

Her eyes searched her small, scarcely decorated room, eyeing the books on 
the shelves, works on devotional and charitable and educational matters. 
What help could they be to her now? The picture of Jesus, a copy of painting 
by Masaccio of the Saviour on the Cross: even this was of no avail, for 
Sister Anne's mind was assailed by images and problems which no text, no 
dogma, nothing of the Church, could deal with. 

For the first time in her life, Sister Anne felt as though she was 
absolutely on her own. The thought frightened her. 

She decided to try to pass the time in a useful manner, and in that way take 
her mind off of the questions that possessed her. Sister Anne therefore 
pulled from her desk a sheaf of essays which her class had written. 
Carefully sharpening a number of pencils, both red and blue, she prepared to 
read them and correct them thoroughly. 

Portugal. Norway. The Straits of Magellan. The Bosporus. Patagonia. The 
words crawled and squirmed beneath her tired gaze like so many worms, 
refusing to take on their accustomed lexicographical meaning. 

Concentrate, Sister Anne told herself, concentrate on the task at hand and 
everything will be all right. 

But it wasn't. Nothing was all right. The images of cocks again rose to 
assail her. Every letter looked like a miniature cock, so Sister Anne felt 
as though she was no longer reading a page of words, but looking at 
veritably thousands of tiny, but dangerous cocks. Staring at her. 

This must stop, she told herself. This fantasy of cocks has gone on long 
enough. I can't take any more! She almost screamed this out, but restrained 
herself at the last minute, fortunately too, for the nun's rooms were all 
very close together, and any scream would certainly cause quite an uproar, 
as nuns came running from all over, to see or to share or to help. Or to 
torment! A new image of her sister nuns assailed her. No longer were they 
the pure, hard-working angels of mercy which she had always assumed. Sister 
Rose, Sister Beatrice, Sister Mary. Sister Anne could see them all now, 
grinning with voluptuous delight as they held the faces of young boys 
pressed tightly against their aching cunts! 

No! How could she think such things? Sister Anne gave her head a vigorous 
shake to clear it of all the filthy debris which had been accumulating 
there. Back to work, she told herself, taking another look at the paper 
which she held before her, red pencil poised to detect any errors either 
factual or in terms of style. 

"At night, along the river, the lions roam in search of they prey, and the 
native village grows excited. It is time for the festival of the 
greatfruits, and the headmen of the tribe prepare to do the festive Ubangi 
stomp." 

Festival. Festive. Should not be used in the same sentence, evidence of 
clumsy style and lack of imagination enough to find another word. A sign of 
laziness. Sister Anne despised laziness most of all in her students, for a 
lazy mind is the devil's playground. But then she thought-the Ubangi stomp! 
And an image suddenly appeared to her mind just as clearly and as vividly as 
though it were an actual scene which she was witnessing right within her 
tiny room. The Ubangis! Hundreds of tall Ubangi warriors, dancing and 
leaping high into the air, the red from the fire casting eerie shadows and 
making their skin glow like coals. Naked they were, and their dicks were 
supporting sheaths which pointed high, high, high into the air. 

Sister Anne suddenly stood up and hurled the paper across the room. "This 
will not do," she said to herself, enunciating each word clearly and 
distinctly, as though it were a talisman to ward off a demon. 

Just then there came a knock on her door. Sister Anne hesitated to answer 
it, hesitated to move at all, as though she were afraid of who, of what, was 
outside for her, waiting in the hall. She stood stock still and did not move 
at all, as though afraid of giving herself away. Truly, a demon there might 
be. Sister Anne's world had been toppled so neatly that she now could almost 
believe in anything. 

She heard a whisper. "Sister Anne! Sister Anne! Open up! It's me!" It was 
the whisper of a young man. She recognized the voice as belonging to Ed! He 
continued. "Sister Anne! I had to hide in the closet for a while. I was 
afraid that if the Mother Superior were to find me coming here, she would 
beat me again." 

Again? What did he mean? Sister Anne remained silent, but she was attentive 
to his words, and her body, unbeknownst to herself, was attentive to his 
presence. Her skin grew slightly warm, as though she were lying on the 
beach, under the sun, an activity she had never engaged in, and moisture 
began to form in small beads on her forehead. The muscles in her arms and in 
her thighs grew slightly tense, as though she were preparing to run, or to 
strike out violently with her hands, which gradually tightened into small 
fists. 

Sister Anne looked heavenward, and she silently mouthed a short prayer, 
asking to be saved from the temptations which she could even then feel 
gripping her. Had the demon made his way into her room through the keyhole? 
Such must have been the case, for how else to explain the excitement that 
began to course through her as she listened to Ed knocking lightly on the 
door, and whispering to her, his voice, his presence, she could almost smell 
him. She began to tremble, her thighs began to glow with an inward fire, her 
cunt grew moist. 

"Please, Sister Anne, please let me in. I want to see you. Oh, I've got to 
see you, please, before the Mother Superior, or anyone, finds me here." 

As though someone else was doing it, Sister Anne watched herself glide 
across the room to the door, place her long fingers on the cold knob, turn 
it, clicking the lock open, and then pull it back, revealing the small, 
sexy, strong form of Ed, the boy she had tempted, the boy she had corrupted. 

If that was so, he looked none the worse for wear. Fear, certainly, was in 
his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by hot flashes of joy as the door to 
Sister Anne's private room, her bedroom indeed, opened to permit him inside. 
He came in quickly, not waiting for her to change her mind. 

"What are you doing here, Eddie?" Sister Anne asked, doing her best to 
conceal the excitement which she felt at seeing him there, so close to her. 
He was dressed in nothing but a blue tee shirt and a pair of Levi's over his 
white sneakers, and his body looked athletic and muscular under this 
clothing which hid nothing of his form. She made a real effort of the will 
to keep her eyes up, up, away from his crotch. And it is to her credit that 
she succeeded, for the urge was very great. 

"Well," Ed said, rather diffidently, a little shyly, now that he was with 
her, "things were going so well today ... I thought you wanted to....hear 
more." 

Sister Anne was hanging on each word which he spoke, hoping that he would 
say that he wanted her, for she wanted him, but hoping also that he 
wouldn't, for it was wrong, and not wanting to admit to herself that she 
really did want him. So when he concluded by saying that she wanted to hear 
more-that was just what Sister Anne needed most at that moment, an excuse to 
keep him in the room with her, an excuse to involve herself with him in an 
enterprise that was intimate, slightly illicit, slightly sexual, in terms of 
what they would talk about, and yet free from the taint of actually 
physically ... doing anything to each other. So Sister Anne jumped on this 
suggestion with immediate alacrity, using it as a life preserver to hold 
onto in a shaking sea. She immediately took on whatever she could then 
manage of a business-like air and said, "Yes. Yes. I do want to hear. You 
must be misinformed, Eddie, thinking that improper activities occur here in 
the orphanage. Where did you hear such things? Who has been spreading such 
rumors?" 

"Let me sit down," Ed said, planting his ass on the edge of Sister Anne's 
bed. 

So excited was the Sister with following his story that she quickly sat 
herself down next to him. "Well then, young man, tell me...." 

Ed inhaled, and the odor of a sexually aroused woman wafted into his eagerly 
receptive nostrils. The smell maddened him. He wanted to reach out 
immediately, grab her, pull her clothing off, and plunge his dick inside. 
There was just something about Sister Anne that did that to him, and he 
thought it was because, not only did she have the fullest, ripest, sexiest 
body of any woman he had ever seen, but she was also so sweet and innocent. 
She really didn't know what went on within the orphanage between the kids 
and the sex-obsessed nuns and brothers? Amazing! 

"I don't know where to start, Sister Anne," Ed said slowly, sincerely, 
really trying to communicate with her. He knew that might be hard, because 
there was a wall between them, a wall which she had constructed. But he 
thought it would soon be tumbling down. "But fucking goes on all the time. 
I'm surprised you don't know about it, but I guess it's just that you're too 
good. They're afraid to tell you." 

"Who? Who's afraid to tell me?" She moved closer to him on the bed, so 
anxious was she tohear his reply. 

"I dunno. They all are, the Mother Superior, she's the worst. It's not so 
bad, just fucking, and sucking, and eating out pussy, all of that stuff. 
Sometimes it's great," he looked at her longingly, "if you like the person. 
Of course, it's not so good when they make you do it, wake you up when you 
are sleeping just to lick their pussies, two or three nuns at once, 
sometimes, but even that's not so bad, what's really bad, and makes me mad 
is when they don't even say thank you, or good night, just tell you to get 
out, like you're a dog or something. I mean, all some of the nuns are 
interested in is cock. Cock, that's all they care about. They don't even 
care if you're a person, or if you dig it or not. Some of them even want you 
to be miserable, they want you to suffer. The Mother Superior, she...." Ed 
was having visible trouble saying it, as though something within him was 
holding the words back. His words had been coming out quickly, in spasmodic 
clusters of emotion, and now he broke down completely, weeping bitter tears 
of sorrow and fear. 

Shocked as she was by the boy's disclosures, not really understanding all of 
them, as they had come out too quickly for immediate comprehension, yet 
somehow convinced by the boy's evident sincerity, convinced without knowing 
it, Sister Anne's heart went out to the crying lad, as she had always liked 
him anyway, so she spread her arms wide and seized him, hugging him tightly 
to her in a deep embrace. 

It felt so good to be in Sister Anne's arms that Ed soon stopped crying and 
began to feel like a grown up man. This feeling was enforced by the rapid 
engorgement of his cock, which began to stir and get bigger and stiffer 
until he felt it rise up and press hard against his pants, trying to get 
out, get free to do its work. 

Sister Anne was in a kind of rapture as she held his firm young masculine 
body pressed tightly against her curvaceous form. She felt his arms go about 
her shoulders, and felt him squeeze her body even more tightly against his, 
and she let him, for it felt fine. She felt his hands rubbing up and down 
against her back, touching and massaging her backbone, each and every 
vertebrae, through her habit and through her skin. It felt great, very 
sensual and soothing. Sister Anne found her arms stroking him. She felt a 
bulge pressing against her thigh, looked down and noticed that it was the 
young boy's cock. 

"Oh," she cooed with pleasure, as automatically her hands closed on it, 
unzipped the pants, pulled it out, and began to stroke. Sister Anne was 
getting quite practiced at this now. It was starting to come to her as 
easily as saying mass. 

Ed reached out and touched her all over, his hands reaching for her tits, 
touching them through the habit, feeling the nipples stiffen beneath the 
sure work of his nimble, probing finger. 

"This time for sure," he thought. "This time I get inside! Yeah!" 

A swoony kind of feeling engulfed Sister Anne and she felt herself falling 
back onto the mattress. As she fell back, Ed came with her, and was 
presently lying there on top of her full and rich womanly form. 

As Sister Anne looked up, she noticed that her legs were spread, and that Ed 
was between them, his hard cock pressing down against her genital region, 
his hands busily engaged in hoisting her habit up. 

This time she made no complaint. She wanted to be fucked by Ed more than 
anything in the world, and she was determined now to see it through without 
any more hesitations or obstacles. Her habit, being the first obstacle, had 
to be the first to go. 

"Let me help you," she said. "Here, I can get it off quickly," Anne said, as 
she began pulling the cumbersome garment off. 

Ed just moved back and watched her, absolutely amazed at how she was getting 
into it, not giving him a hard time at all, probably hornier than any woman 
he had ever seen in his life. He figured that she was a virgin, or the next 
best thing. 

Amazement changed to enchantment as he saw her tits appear from beneath her 
habit as she raised it up over her head. They were absolutely lovely, 
perfectly firm and very pink, with budding breasts that were a real mouthful 
just by themselves, and they really got Ed's mouth to watering. 

Then enchantment changed to wonder and awe as Sister Anne removed the 
garment completely, and the full extent of her naked beauty was revealed to 
his fast-questing eyeballs. She was the most luscious thing he had ever 
seen, the most luscious thing he had ever dreamed of. He could not imagine 
what strange quirk of fate had ever sent this vision of female beauty to a 
convent, for she truly belonged in the centerfold of any number of 
fashionable men's magazines. And the kick of it was, she didn't even know 
it! 

Ed just feasted his eyes on her, too stupefied to move or even to talk, as 
Sister Anne looked down bashfully at the floor, her cheeks turning a 
delicate pale shade of pink. Ed, wise beyond his years, realized that she 
was blushing. Was she ashamed of the way she looked? Impossible! Yet, to 
look at her behavior-not so impossible. Such a thing should not be. It 
stirred the otherwise taciturn Ed to speak out. 

"You're beautiful," he said. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever 
seen." 

Sister Anne looked at him with a feeling in her eyes, and welling up in her 
heart, such as she had never felt before. It was stupendous, it made her 
heart beat fast and made her tits heave up and out, up and out, in a deadly 
rhythm. 

Ed grabbed them, his fingers touching their firm flesh all over, delighting 
in the way their fleshy orbs fell into his palms and filled them up. He 
squeezed them and caressed them repeatedly, transported by great waves of 
lust. His prick jumped about wildly as he manipulated Sister Anne's tits, 
and she touched it, her long fingers running all up and down the length of 
the shaft, loving the resilient way it moved, loving its hardness which was 
at the same time somewhat soft. 

"Why don't you take your clothes off, too?" she asked hesitantly, as though 
she was making some kind of bizarre, unheard of request. 

But Ed understood what she was talking about, and in what seemed like two 
and a half seconds, he was totally unclothed and raring for some action. 

"Yum!" he said, coming to her and sucking on her tits. His tongue swirling 
over her nipples was so hypnotic that Sister Anne just collapsed against the 
pillow and let him continue his masterful work. 

He sucked her tits with gusto, first one and then the other, taking as much 
of each into his mouth at once as he could, and that was quite a bit, for Ed 
had a wide and eager mouth. But he could not get even a half of a tit into 
his mouth, for they were simply mammoth. The more Ed sucked them the more he 
loved them, and he felt like shooting his load there and then just from the 
excitement which sucking her magnificent tits was giving to him. But he 
waited. He knew that there were any number of other spots and times when it 
would be better to shoot his seed. 

"Oh! This is great!" he said briefly, pausing from his breast feast. Then he 
buried his entire head between her huge melon-like tits and squeezed them 
together around his ears, feeling the warmth percolate right into his head. 
They were so smooth and pink, and he really loved the way they seemed so 
fresh, so big, too, absolutely an unexplored territory of the feminine 
anatomy, for he felt as if he were the first man to touch them. 

The more Ed sucked her tits the more turned on did Sister Anne become. She 
had never realized, the thought had never occurred to her, that so much 
pleasure could arise from her tits. She had never paid much attention to 
them in the past, and in fact rather disliked them because they were so much 
bigger than any of the other nuns and really made her stand out, and they 
were so clumsy and cumbersome too, and jiggled so much when she walked, or 
even when she knelt to pray. But now she realized how fine they really were. 
Her tits were driving her out of her mind! 

"Ahhhhhh!" she moaned, clutching Ed's head and pressing it more fervently 
against her chest, holding her tits between her two hands and touching them 
tightly about his head, almost trapping him in there like a rabbit in a box. 

But Ed knew that one could only go so far with stimulating tits, and knew 
that she would want some stimulation elsewhere, even if Sister Anne herself 
did not yet know it. 

But she did know it, and when she felt Ed's fingers touching her cunt, 
feeling around there, she breathed a sigh of relief and excitement, for her 
cunt had long been aching for just such a treatment as it now was receiving 
from the young boy's eager young hands. 

"Oh, Ed! Oh, Ed!" she moaned, and Ed smiled. 

His fingers found her clitoris and he proceeded to manipulate that tender 
and highly sensitive area of flesh, touching it repeatedly and squeezing it 
very lightly yet very effectively. He looked at her face while he did this 
and saw how her eyes rolled upwards, how her mouth opened, how silent gasps 
of passion began to come out, long drawn sighs, heaves, moans. Her breasts 
heaved up and down, slowly undulating, like fields of flowers in a warm 
summer wind. He kept on touching her there, feeling how wet she was, and how 
much wetter she was getting the more he touched her. It was just amazing, 
how quickly this shy nun was becoming a lover, for as he touched her it was 
hard for him to believe, hard even for her to believe, that this was not 
something which she had been doing forever. 

"That feels good, so good!" she moaned. 

"It feels great to me too," Ed said, and it did. Her hands were touching him 
all over. They clutched at his dick and stroked it up and down, and whenever 
they did that too furiously and led Ed to suppose that he was about to come, 
he just removed her hand with a polite, "You better hold off there," or a, 
"Ooooooh! That feels too good," and all was well. She touched him all over, 
his arms, his thighs, at one point her fingers even delved into the cleft of 
his ass, and that felt real good, as you may imagine. But it must have been 
an accidental gesture on Sister Anne's part for, moan with pleasure as Ed 
did as he felt her long silken fingers snake their way up towards his 
asshole, she did not repeat it. Ed decided that he would soon teach her 
about the pleasures of ass fingering. But meanwhile, there were pleasures 
aplenty right here to enjoy, and enjoy them he did. 

Sister Anne felt a kind of madness come upon her. Her cunt was just dripping 
with sexual juices, preparing the way for Ed's cock to enter, for anything 
to enter, for a freight train to enter, judging by the floods of juices 
which flowed copiously out upon her thighs and around Ed's twisting and 
twining fingers, which by this time were digging deeply into her vagina. He 
delighted to feel how open she was, how wet and excited. Not like a frigid 
nun at all, but like a sensuous voluptuary, like a woman who lived for love. 

Two fingers of Ed's hand slid in and out of her cunt, while Sister Anne's 
face was a study in ecstasy, head thrown back, eyes wide, chest rising and 
falling, full lips parted in a passionate pout. Then three fingers, fucking 
her, moving in and out more and more quickly. Then four fingers. Then his 
whole hand! What a woman! 

Sister Anne began to breathe very heavily, and at this point Ed could no 
longer restrain himself. He had held back this long only because, loose and 
sexy and excited as she seemed to be, he knew that there was still the 
chance that if he climbed on and proceeded to shove his fierce and furious 
dick into her aching and open cunt, that she still might struggle, still 
might fight, might for some reason object and give him a hard time, and thus 
frustrate him. And such a frustration now, at this point, Ed knew that he 
just could not stand. That would be asking too much of any man! Even though 
he well knew that she wanted to fuck him just as much as he wanted to fuck 
her, and she let him touch her and she touched him, still, the actual 
fucking might frighten her off. 

But that fear no longer bound him. Just one glance into Sister Anne's eyes 
would be enough to convince anyone that here was a woman who wanted it. And 
Ed was prepared to give her it. 

The young man climbed between the woman's outstretched and lush thighs, so 
soft, so full, so rich, so warm, very pink. His hairy legs touched her 
smooth ones, and he directed the long shaft of his dick right at her open, 
pink, quivering cunt, which shone in the moonlight shining in through the 
room's one window. Juicy and delectable, and it would soon be his! Ed 
quivered with expectation. 

Then the tip of his cock touched her, and what seemed like an electrical 
current went buzzing through his body, right up to his brain. 

Sister Anne almost passed out from pleasure as she felt the boy's cock touch 
her cunt. He did not plunge it in all at once, but waited a bit, a very 
little bit, about thirty seconds, just long enough to run his cock against 
her clitoris, watching her jump with quick spasms of sexual pleasure, and 
against the lips of her cunt, getting it real wet, wet with the same juices 
that made her wet, so that when his cock went inside, she wouldn't even 
notice it. Right?! 

Ed shoved his cock in, not knowing whether or not she would be a virgin, but 
knowing that both of them were going to enjoy it in any case. His cock slid 
in very easily, not surprisingly considering how well lubricated and excited 
she was. Ed shoved it in slowly, nonetheless, wanting to enjoy it. Virgin 
she might have been, he decided, but not much of a one, for his cock slid 
right in and before he knew it, he felt his cock bury itself to the hilt all 
the way up Sister Anne's silky soft, smooth, glistening, pulsating quim. 
Then he just rested it there and looked deeply into her eyes. 

Sister Anne smiled at him with thankfulness and sexual release. The greatest 
feelings she had ever had were intimately connected with cock, which she 
could feel moving around someplace very deep inside of her, as though it 
were not a part of Ed at all, but were a part of her. 

But then when she looked Ed in the eyes, and saw him smile at her, wickedly, 
joyfully, and then felt his body pull back, she felt the cock pull out a 
little toy, and then she knew for sure that the cock was part of him. 

There was almost a feeling of pain as the cock pulled back, but not quite, 
because Ed's eyes were holding tightly to hers, and if they were saying 
anything, it was that he was not going to leave her, he was with her, this 
was a joint venture, that cooperation was vital. So it turned into a feeling 
of the most exquisite pleasure as soon as Sister Anne realized that the 
cock, indeed, was coming sliding all the way back. And then as it slid out 
again her pleasure increased still more, to be multiplied as it slid 
forward, but then it felt better than ever as it went back, back, almost all 
the way out, so that Sister Anne screamed with a mixture of ecstasy and 
terror, and then the cock plunged ruthlessly into her cunt for one more 
time, like a violent sword ripping her apart and causing her to shriek with 
unalloyed pleasure. 

And that was not all. Not by a long shot. It seemed that nothing could stop 
Ed's cock in its ruthless unceasing travels right into the center of Sister 
Anne's soft being. Nothing! It just kept coming and coming, plowing its way 
into her, reaching lower depths every time. 

Her cunt churned up like butter being made, and her belly was beaten upon by 
Ed's belly, as his whole body slapped against hers repeatedly. He did this 
on purpose, loving the feel of her soft curvaceous flesh under his harder 
body, the way her body responded to his, bounced, like a trampoline. But he 
had never fucked a trampoline that felt as good as Sister Anne! Nor one with 
such a pair of knockers. He could not restrain himself from sucking upon 
them, even as his firm hard young body rode up and down on top of her, his 
cock sliding in and out of her cunt. 

"Oh, Ed! Oh Ed! Oh Ed! Oh Ed!" She moaned over and over, timed to the rhythm 
of his thrusting pelvis as it drove down hard against her. Her mouth looked 
so good as she said this, so full and round and juicy, that it reminded Ed 
of her cunt, which he was coming to know so well, so he kissed her full on 
the lips. 

This really surprised Sister Anne, for she had never gone through a regular 
high school, had never indulged in necking, so she had never experienced a 
kiss like this, one which was as wild and frenzied as a fuck. She never 
would have believed how responsive her mouth could be to erotic stimuli 
unless she had experienced it herself, as she now was doing. 

Ed's lips pressed tightly against hers and as he was breathing hard and she 
could feel his breath as being part of her body, Sister Anne realized that 
he had forced her mouth open, or it had opened on its own, she really 
couldn't tell, all of this was so new and strange to her, and had shoved his 
tongue inside. 

It tasted strange, it felt strange, but also good, very soft and wet and 
tasty, and like a snake, swirling around, like a dick in fact. She 
remembered how good it had felt to have young Ed's dick in her mouth. This 
felt just as good, and Sister Anne proceeded to suck on Ed's tongue just the 
way she had earlier sucked on his cock, her tongue swirling vigorously 
around it, traveling quickly all over. The difference now was that his 
tongue could tongue her back, so their tongues intertwined like two sex 
crazed snakes trying to fuck, only they were warmer than snakes, almost hot 
in fact, hot with sexual passion, and filled with the looseness of sexual 
abandon. 

Impelled by what unknown force Sister Anne could not say, she suddenly found 
herself biting and chewing upon Ed's lower lip. It tasted so good that she 
could not help herself, and besides, some wicked force was urging her on. 

Ed yelped, but he liked it. She could tell because his cock thrust into her 
even more vigorously than before, and with a new rythm that was a healthy 
variation on all of those that came before, a sure sign that Ed was enjoying 
the proceedings, that they didn't bore him, that he was anxious to 
demonstrate his sexual prowess to this fine woman, and that he wanted to 
entertain her with his body to the utmost extent that he could manage. And 
that was plenty. 

Sister Anne was whimpering with lust, absolutely lost in a world of lust, on 
a planet of sex. Sex was what she was born for. This she now knew for 
certain. How could she ever have doubted it or believed anything else? 
Absurd! 

Ed was breathing heavily in her ear, and the breaths began to come out with 
more force than before, and his motions on top of her body became more 
frenzied, less controlled. When she saw his face there was a look of 
inexplicable madness upon it. From all of these signs, Sister Anne 
determined that something big was on the way. 

Also, she felt it, not within Ed, for close as they were in this most 
intimate of all the intimate acts, they were still separate individuals, and 
much as she may have wished to, Sister Anne could not feel what was going on 
inside of him. She felt it in herself. The force seemed to be building up 
within her as though from the center of the earth, as though a mighty 
earthquake or volcano was about to erupt and leave the earth as it had never 
been before. Her entire body shook as though she was suddenly possessed by a 
palsied demon, and racing feelings shot through her cunt, feelings that were 
almost too good to stand, feelings that were certainly too good to stand 
without screaming and shouting and twisting lasciviously from side to side. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Ah!" She screamed, then as the feeling grew, "Ah! Yes! Fuck me! 
Fuck me! Fuck! Shit! Fuck me! Me! Oh Yes! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" 

The words signalled Sister Anne's release from the restraints of the holy 
orders, but signalled also and, in this respect, her more significant 
release from the earthly plane, for her orgasm had erupted, and she found 
herself flying through interstellar space, lost to the world. 

Ed's come shot out at the same moment, adding to the confusion which was 
taking place at the meeting point of their loins. Gushers of come oozed out 
from between their intertwined bodies as it whooshed out from past his cock 
and merged with the other juices that were flowing from Sister Anne's cunt, 
to make quite a mess on the bed. But they didn't care. They were having too 
good of a time. 

Sister Anne was thrashing about lewdly, not caring a whit for her demeanour, 
just demanding and receiving bodily satisfactions such as she had never 
dreamed of before, and doling them out as well. 

Ed's prick felt itself grasped and hugged by the moist and clutching 
interior membranous walls of Sister Anne's cunt. Her cunt was alive, like a 
kind of monster, holding onto his cock so tightly and with such insistent 
pleasure, that it seemed as though she never wanted to let go. It was as if 
her cunt was acting up now, in answer to all of the years it had been 
deprived of the pleasure of having a cock, and now wanted to hold onto that 
cock to ensure that those such years would never come again. 

But having shot out the come, it is inevitable that the cock will grow 
small, and this now began to happen. Ed's cock withdrew into itself, and a 
little crease of pain appeared on Sister Anne's forehead. 

Ed did his best to console her with tender caresses and soft words, but 
nothing could allay her fears of losing his magnificent cock for good. She 
humped her pelvis back and forth, milking the last bit of pleasure from Ed's 
receding penis, her big tits flopping against him as she moved. 

Ed loved those tits. His cock just barely hanging into the lips of her cunt, 
he began to suck on her nipples, gratified at how quickly and with what 
relish the two pert protuberances responded. 

"Ummmm, that feels good. Ohhh!" Sister Anne moaned, happy to feel Ed still 
concerned with her body, realizing that perhaps, just perhaps, their fucking 
was not over, that more would quickly follow. Could such a heavenly pleasure 
be? Sister Anne really had no idea of just how much pleasure should be 
allotted to a girl. 

Ed's tongue swirled devillishly around her nipples, and licked the sweat 
away from her chest, perspiration which had accumulated in small warm pools, 
salty too, like those found in oases in the middle of the great Arabian 
desert. His tongue probed between her breasts, lapping up all that he could 
find, inhaling her lovely feminine odors, which greatly excited him and 
stirred up the little hairs within his nostrils. 

"Oh that feels so good," Sister Anne cooed to him. 

Just at that moment, Ed's shriveled cock finally fell all the way out of 
Sister Anne's cunt, but she didn't mind, or not much, because this allowed 
Ed to move, and move he did. 

The young boy, entranced at this immense field of womanly flesh, unexplored 
womanly flesh too, which made it so much the better, which lay spread out 
before him on the bed, commenced to go exploring. His tongue traveled down 
her body past her tits, although he was slightly loathe to leave those 
melons of pleasure. But there was so much else, so much that was fine. His 
tongue traced a trail down her belly, kissing the firm pink flesh as he did 
so, causing Sister Anne to writhe about on the bed with pleasurable tickling 
sensations almost driving her wild. 

Young Ed came to the nun's belly button, a slight indentation in her slim, 
incredibly sexy stomach. It attracted him so that he inserted his tongue 
into it, and then began to turn his tongue round and round, as though it 
were a corkscrew. 

"Ooooooh," she moaned. 

His hands clutched her thighs tightly, not wanting to ever let go, as his 
tongue continued to excite her by boring deeply into her navel, as though it 
were just another cunt. Ed had never gotten so much pleasure as this from 
any woman's belly button. What gave him the most pleasure, perhaps, was the 
way she responded, for Sister Anne became so excited that her breath began 
to shoot out of her mouth like hot wind, and her whole body undulated about 
like a belly dancer. 

Sister Anne's waist was incredibly slim, considering how deliciously and 
fully built she was, huge breasts, an immense sexy chest, that turned into a 
veritable wasp waist, only to blossom out again in the form of fine, 
incredibly luscious and lushly developed hips. 

It was towards this part of the young woman's anatomy that Ed now turned his 
physical attentions. (His mental attentions had been there all along.) 

"Oh yes!" she moaned, as she watched the young boy's head move further down 
her body. Sister Anne could feel his warm breath tickling her pubic hair, 
blowing across it like a sirocco, causing her to tingle and twitch with wild 
anticipation. Just what would he do next? Would he ... would his tongue ... 
would it kiss her ... down there? It was too much to hope ... and yet ... 
how much had happened so far that Sister Anne had never had the imagination 
to hope for? She decided to let her imagination run wild! 

Ed looked at Sister Anne's cunt. It was still juicy and full with the 
excesses of their recent sexual bout, but that just made it look all the 
better to him. Ed just loved cunts, and he loved everything that could be 
done with them, sucking, fucking, diddling, you name it. And her cunt was a 
real delight. It was pearly pink and still pulsating with lust, and it 
looked like it was alive with a life of its own, like an oyster. 

"Beautiful," he said in a soft voice, and Sister Anne spread her thighs more 
widely apart to accommodate anything that the lad might be inclined to do. 
Yes, her imagination was running wild now, and just thinking about how fine 
it would feel to have the boy's tongue delving amongst her cuntal walls got 
Sister Anne so excited that more juices began to ooze from somewhere deep 
within her, and her forehead felt feverish with a newly found sort of 
excitement. 

But Ed did not suck and lick her cunt, not right away. He wanted to make her 
suffer first, with the kind of pleasure that experienced woman at the art of 
love, just love to feel, the thing that gets them so excited that they find 
themselves begging and pleading for ... whatever the man wants to give them! 

Ed's quick lips attacked Sister Anne's inner thighs, closing upon the soft, 
full flesh like a snake, chewing on the flesh with sharp young teeth, not 
biting her hand, but just nibbling, as one does to soft cheese, or ice 
cream, licking and nibbling and inhaling the healthy goodness all at the 
same time. 

Sister Anne grew more and more excited, as she found out just how sensitive 
her thighs really were. Ed could feel the heat from her cunt pulsate out and 
impinge against his ears, heating them up so that they turned slightly 
scarlet. 

Every bite he took brought him closer and closer to Sister Anne's cunt, her 
raging center of sexual desire. Her hands touched Ed's head, caressing his 
hair, urging him slowly onwards, not wanting to seem too pushy about it, but 
letting him know that she was following his progress towards her cunt with 
the most intense and all-encompassing interest. 

"Ooooooh, that's so good," she said. 

Ed's hands reached beneath her and found her ass, which was not hard to find 
because it was large and juicy and full, the finest ass he had ever had 
anything to do with, or figured that he ever would. 

Sister Anne raised her bottom off of the bed to give his hands the necessary 
room to move, for she really loved the sensations which all ten of his busy 
fingers were drawing out of her ass flesh, as his fingers moved quickly and 
all over. They squeezed her flesh tightly, so that folds of it came oozing 
out from between his fingers. His fingers then slid unopposed over the wide 
smooth expanse of bottom flesh, the best part of a woman, so far as Ed, and 
many another man, are concerned. 

"Ahhhhh," she moaned. 

Ed's fingers had found her crevasse, the cleft between her two full ass 
cheeks, and his long thin fingers traveled up this well-marked path, 
touching her with great joy and without trepidation. He knew that she would 
do nothing to stop him now, would not even think of it. Sister Anne was 
wholly in his power. But then, he was also wholly in hers. It was a fair 
exchange from which both of them only profitted. 

His fingers reached out and found her anus, her petite little asshole, an 
organ of her body that had as yet been touched by no other fingers other 
than her mother's, when she was very, very young, and her own, and then only 
in the course of washing or other forms of cleanliness, and then only 
briefly, without the deliberate attempt to touch it in order to bring forth 
pleasure. So it was a wholly new sensation to Sister Anne to feel the young 
boy's finger touching her there, slightly, then going away, then touching 
her again, somewhat harder, then withdrawing, then touching her again and 
again and again. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she moaned, gasping for breath. 

It felt hypnotic, his finger, long index finger, descending repeatedly 
against her asshole, playing her the way he would play a tiny drum. She came 
to anticipate each touch of his finger and look forward to it with great 
anticipation, even though scarcely seconds separated each touch of the boy's 
finger. The pleasure was intense. 

And then suddenly, the pleasure which Sister Anne was feeling seemed to 
double, to treble, to quadruple, all within a matter of seconds, for it was 
in those few seconds that Ed did two things almost simultaneously. 

He plunged his finger right up into her asshole, and he plunged his open 
mouth against her open cunt, inserting his long and furiously moving tongue 
against her clitoris. 

"Ahhhhh! Eeeeeee!" she screamed, totally driven mad by what he was doing to 
her poor, befuddled body. She had never felt anything like this before, and 
never had two of her orifices at once attacked by a sex maddened young man. 
It was too much to be believed, but she had to believe it, because she was 
experiencing it, and it was an experience that could not be doubted for it 
was just too, too intense. 

His tongue flickered out maddeningly, touching her clitoris and bringing it 
new life. His tongue, she considered could bring life to the dead! His warm 
breath blew against her clitoris as he sucked it, driving her to a peak of 
frenzy. 

Sister Anne's body thrashed about on the bed, almost knocking Ed away from 
her in the excess of her wild passion, but he held on tight and just kept on 
doing what he was doing, his tongue sucking her clitoris and driving her 
into a fury, his index finger riding in and out of her asshole. 

Ed was overjoyed to find her asshole loose enough to permit him to finger 
fuck her without apparently causing her even the least amount of pain, for 
finger fucking a fine chick's ass was really something that he liked to do. 
One thing that he liked about it, of course, was the opportunity it gave him 
to study her face while she was in the throes of passion. This he could not 
now do, because his face was so intimately engaged with the nun's cunt. But 
he consoled himself by thinking that he would have plenty of other 
opportunities. Wisely, he figured that once having tasted so deeply of the 
delicious throes of sexual passion, Sister Anne would not be so quick to 
return to her formerly chaste mode of life and behavior. 

Also, he just loved sucking her cunt, for it was tasty and fine. His mouth 
moved into her cunt, as his tongue plunged hard and quickly into her vagina, 
fucking her with his tongue just as his finger was busy fucking away at her 
ass. He really had to hold Sister Anne down now to keep her from flying away 
into the air, so transported was she by young Ed's sexual bravura. He was 
really doing it to her, doing his best to give her all that he knew, all 
that he had learned from the other nuns, those sexual professionals, none of 
whom, despite their greater proficiency or experience, had half the natural 
talent or love that Sister Anne possessed. Yes, Ed considered himself to be 
a very fortunate lad indeed, for being the one to open up Sister Anne to a 
new life of sexual gratification. Good thing for baseball, he thought with a 
sly grin, as his tongue flicked out again and licked her cunt, tasting all 
of her delicately scented juices, mixed as they were with his come. 

"Oh yes! Yes! Yes!" was all that Sister Anne could say at that moment, but 
it was enough. 

Ed lapped up her juices quickly, his tongue gliding over the soft yet 
sensuous field of her cunt, feeling it move and quiver beneath him. His 
finger plunged into the hot depths of her asshole, which seemed to be 
burning up with passion, and he just wondered how much more of this intense 
treatment the young girl could take before veritably bursting into flames. 

His own prick was large and distended and he really wanted to get it back 
inside of her. That gave him an idea. Her asshole was already so loose and 
ready from the finger fucking which he had been giving her, that Ed figured 
it would be quite alright, and in fact an excellent opportunity in which to 
fuck her in the ass, with his prick this time. He wouldn't even need any 
lubricating oil of unguent or anything, because her ass was ready; 
accustomed to pleasure, it would immediately associate his hard cock with 
pleasure, and he just knew that she would love it. 

He said, "Hey, I've got an idea. Here, get on your knees. Yeah! This'll be 
great. Get ready." 

Sister Anne did just as the young man instructed, not knowing precisely what 
he had in mind, only knowing that it had to be good. She fully realized what 
a novice in matters sexual she was, and so she determined to do nothing to 
stand in the way of her gaining further sexual knowledge and proficiency. 
She determined to follow the boy's lead in every matter possible, so she got 
onto her arms and knees with alacrity, sticking her ass way out into the 
air, and wriggling it around in a most provocative manner, something which 
she had never learned but which was apparently in her genes. 

"What a beautiful behind you have there, Sister Anne," the lad exclaimed, 
overcome by its total and complete beauty. By bending over, she really threw 
her behind into relief, and he realized what a truly fine thing it was, so 
thick, so firm, so ripe and juicy. 

Ed got behind her and guided his prick up towards her ass. He got it into 
position. It's tip just pressing slowly into the opening of her anus. 

Sister Anne felt it there, and she wondered if he was going to shove it in. 
This was one possibility that somehow, despite the fine work he had done 
with his finger there to get her off, she had never really considered. It 
was just too far from her experience. Maybe too, it was because the ass was 
associated with the devil, in terms of the black ass and all. But now she 
knew that the ass was not part of the devil, it was part of her, and 
something to be enjoyed. She prepared to enjoy, prepared to enjoy anything 
that this beautiful young man wanted to lead her to. 

Ed began to manipulate her cunt with the fingers of one of his hands as his 
other hand grasped his cock firmly and guided it right into her asshole, 
while he shoved it in with the force of his whole young athletic body. 

Sister Anne gasped with sudden pain. Pain it was, but she did not experience 
it as pain, for to her, in these sexual circumstances, the pain was so 
instantly transmogrified into pleasure, that the word pain was wholly 
inappropriate from the sensations which went racing speedily throughout her 
whole body, the more his prick slid inside of her asshole, filling her up 
completely from behind. 

"Oooooh! Good," she said in soft tones of passion. 

Encouraged by the ease with which his prick slid into her, Ed reared back a 
little and then drove his whole pelvis, his whole frame forward, really 
letting Sister Anne have it. 

Her whole body was shoved forward by the force of his intense thrust, and 
her tits bobbled about crazily, swaying forward and then back like two 
pendulums on a very strange, very sexy clock. 

With a grunt of pure joy, Ed found that his prick was buried up to the hilt 
in Sister Anne's incredibly tight asshole. Her asshole gripped his cock 
firmly, and the friction which it produced as he slowly, gradually, began to 
move his cock forwards and back was simply not to be believed. It was 
absolutely heavenly, the way his cock filled her completely up and yet left 
him plenty of room to move. The more he moved the looser her cunt got, but 
no matter how much he moved his cock around, and he moved it plenty, Sister 
Anne's cunt never got too loose, never got so loose as to interfere with the 
intense friction, with all the grooves and ridges and tightness within her, 
that produced within Ed's prick, by touching it all over, so much fantastic 
pleasure and sensations of such a high magnitude of lust. 

"Oh yes! Yes! Fuck my ass! Fuck my ass! My ass! Ass! Oh my! Oh yes!" 

Sister Anne scarcely seemed a rational creature, as she totally surrendered 
to the physical impulses which were overtaking her. Her body moved precisely 
yet lewdly to the thrusting which Ed was giving her, driving his hard rod 
into her ass with greater and greater force and speed, really getting into 
it himself. This was even better than he had hoped. 

His fingers continued to play with her cunt, knowing that she would get off 
even more if she felt sensations entering her body from her cunt as well as 
from her ass, for that way it would be as though she were totally surrounded 
by sex, which she was. 

He drove his fingers deeply into her cunt, loving the way her juicy inner 
cunt walls opened to receive his fingers, and then slowly closed around 
them, as if not to let them go. He loved the way his fingers glided in and 
out of her slimy, delightful cunt, so glistening smooth, and yet so rough 
when he pressed in against her and felt the skin give and felt the muscles 
moving, undulating like hungry snakes, beneath his curious and probing 
fingers. And he particularly loved the way Sister Anne moaned and almost 
seemed to growl, as his fingers explored her fine cunt and his cock fucked 
her in her asshole. When she growled, Ed did not so much hear it, as feel 
it, the growls coming not only from her throat, but from somewhere deep 
inside of her, and spreading throughout her body, going from bone to bone 
and from organ to organ, vibrating. Her whole body vibrated with an inner 
energy, an energy which Sister Anne had always possessed, but which she had 
never yet felt to its fullest extent, for it was the kind of energy which 
craved physical release, and that was something which she had never felt, or 
at least not really, until now. And now she knew that she would never forget 
it, for this energy had become an integral part of her, of her personality, 
of her desires. She knew that she would never be the same again. 

As Ed kept on fucking her in the ass, his prick moved in and out as easily 
as though he were fucking her cunt. One hand toyed continuously with her 
cunt, and the other hand reached up and grabbed first one breast, and then 
the other. To accomplish this Ed had to lean right on top of her, and Sister 
Anne rather straightened up, so he could clutch her tits and press them 
firmly against her chest, huge tits they were but they pressed in very 
easily, and he loved the way they moved about so lively beneath his fingers, 
which kneaded them like warm, living clay. 

Their toy bodies bounced together on the bed, his prick riding in and out of 
her in a crazy, contented fashion, their breathing growing hot and heavy, 
both lost to any sensations other than those produced by each other, 
together, two bodies made as one. 

"Oh yes! Yes! Yes!" she moaned repeatedly, like a broken record but with far 
more expression than had ever been heard from any record, broken or not. 

"Oh! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ooooooh!" Ed exclaimed, as he fucked her furiously, not 
even conscious of what he was doing, just moving like a wild sexy machine, 
his prick moving forward and back as though by a will all its own. 

Her asshole grabbed his cock and seemed to shake it, the way a terrier will 
grab a rabbit and toy with it before killing it. But here the toying was 
equally pleasurable to the rabbit as well as to the terrier, and Sister 
Anne's wild terrier of a cunt did its job very well, so well that Ed could 
feel the come rising quickly within the stem of his cock, and he knew 
without any doubt that the killing of his cock, making it spend and shoot 
and shrivel and die, would be just as pleasurable, or even more so, 
certainly more so, than the toying. 

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" he shouted, as the sperm rose up his long shaft, hovered at 
the very tip, and prepared to shoot in rapid torrents of fire. 

Sister Anne rocked back and forth with passion and then she felt the hot 
stream of come released from Ed's prick shoot hot and heavy into her 
asshole, filling it up and making it all creamy inside. Her asshole quivered 
and seemed to clutch at the spasming dick with renewed intensity as she felt 
wave after wave of the come streamed into her. 

Ed's fingers played with her cunt some more, and that was enough to bring 
her off as well. Sister Anne began to grunt and to heave her body in all 
directions as she enjoyed the exquisite pleasures of a good orgasm, one that 
left her shaken and weak and trembling, but very happy and contented. 

She and Ed lay together on the bed, touching each other and gradually 
falling asleep. It had been an exciting and invigorating experience for 
both, and had worn them out more than running the decathlon would have. 
Sister Anne had pleasant dreams and when she woke in the morning, Ed was 
gone, having slipped away surreptitiously so as not to be caught by any of 
the other nuns and especially not by the Mother Superior. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

The next day was Sister Anne's day off, and she was glad to take a break. 
She wanted to get away from the orphanage, from the sight of the Mother 
Superior, from the sight of Brother Mark, and even from Ed, because she 
strongly felt the need to do some deep and soul-searching introspective 
thinking. 

It was a beautiful blue skied day, and the weather was quite warm for the 
season, and Sister Anne's eyes swept the scene with something akin to 
happiness as the bus drove her into downtown Cool Valley. She walked by the 
park which ran alongside the river, listened to it gurgle and fall over the 
series of waterfalls that marked its course on its way to the mightier river 
below. 

As she walked, Sister Anne forgot about the blue skies, and she listened 
neither to the birds singing nor to the sound of children playing and 
shouting, away in the distance. All that she heard were various inner 
voices, telling her this, telling her that, contradicting each other, but 
never hesitating to tell her something. They gave her a headache; she wished 
they had all gotten together in a conference beforehand to decide upon what 
to say. This was just too confusing. 

There was the voice of her conscience talking, the voice which owed the most 
to her religious training and her principals. This was the voice whose words 
she had heeded the most over her lifetime so far, but today, although it 
spoke in the same forceful and self-assured tone, its advice seemed somehow 
less to the point, and more questionable. 

"You have sinned," the voice told her in no uncertain terms. "What you have 
done is terrible. It is an affront both to God and to man. You must confess. 
You must repent. You must never do it again." 

"The hell with that. It was fun, wasn't it? Wasn't it the best thing you've 
ever done? When" have you ever felt as relaxed, as released, as happy? 
Never! You know that as well as I do. So what could be wrong?" The other 
voice seemed more persuasive today than it had at any time before. Sister 
Anne nodded her head in agreement as she listened to it. 

"It is the work of the devil," the voice thundered at her, fighting its way 
past her self-complacency. "It had fooled you and it will lead you to 
inevitable perdition." 

"Remember what Eddie told you about the other nuns? The poor boy is scared 
out of his wits by the Mother Superior. It is she who has done wrong, not 
you." 

"Oh you foolish girl, how can you doubt the goodness and piety of the Mother 
Superior, who has been as dear to you as any real mother can be? How can 
you?" 

Sister Anne felt herself growing so distracted that she could no longer 
think. The voices inside of her head were growing louder, they were no 
longer talking to her but were talking only to each other. All that Sister 
Anne could hear was an incomprehensible cauldron of bubbling sound. It was 
as there was a war going on inside of her, and she found that she could no 
longer sit still. She had to move, had to go somewhere. Where, she did not 
know. 

Sister Anne found herself walking, found her feet slapping the hard 
sidewalks in a quick cadence, clack clack clack, like a train, and she moved 
with the same mechanistic motion. She walked to think; she walked to keep 
from thinking. 

The streets of Cool Valley seemed to blend together, Main Street, Fifth 
Street, Ardfort Avenue, all became one big blur to her, and although it was 
a small city in which she had lived for several years, Sister Anne soon 
found herself lost and could not even guess in which direction her 
destination, the bus stop, or the orphanage might lie. 

Puzzled, and having reached no firm conclusion about anything, Sister Anne 
began to glance around, looking for someplace to rest. All she saw were 
rather cold looking buildings, an office building of the sort that might 
house sales departments of major firms, dentists, land speculators; some 
garages and a used car lot; one private residence with the windows boarded 
up; a used record store. One building, however, looked far more appealing 
than the rest on the block. For one thing, it was fronted by a large green 
lawn and was very well cared for, clean white clapboards, bright blue flower 
boxes and sashes, roses growing by the door. Outside of it was a wooden sign 
supported by a wooden pole, and the sign read, Center for the Study of 
Native American Religions. 

Religions. That must refer to Indians. Sister Anne had always had an 
interest in other forms of religion, as she felt that any man's efforts to 
comprehend and to worship God must be in at least some way laudatory. But 
she had never had much of an opportunity to study other religions as her 
duties as a nun kept her very busy, and as the Church so firmly regarded 
itself as being the only true, the only worthwhile religion. 

Sister Anne was so tired and bewildered that she figured that if she went 
inside, she could at least sit and rest and maybe have a cool drink. 

Inside the place was quiet. There was a reception desk but nobody sat behind 
it. Puzzled, Sister Anne began to look around. She walked towards the back 
of the house, looking into all the rooms, because the doors were all opened. 

It was a mess. Desks were littered with piles of papers, which lay also all 
over the floors. Masks and relics and costumes which she recognized as being 
Indian in origin, some Mexican, some obviously South American, some Eskimo, 
perhaps, or Tlingit. Interesting, but why was everything scattered about? 

"Hello." 

Sister Anne spun on her feet and saw a tall man who was looking at her and 
smiling. He was slightly dark skinned, rather copper in color, and she could 
see much of his skin because he was dressed only in a sort of loin cloth 
around his loins, and an embroidered vest over his chest. He had short black 
hair and his face, which was rather handsome and distinguished, if a trifle 
bird-like, was painted with an unusual design on red and blue inter-locking 
chevrons. 

"Are you here for the conference?" 

"The conference?" Sister Anne echoed, rather too perplexed and taken off her 
guard to say anymore. 

"Yes. The conference on InterAmerican Religious Tribal Relations. At 4:30 in 
room 507." 

"Yes I am," the Sister replied. Why not? It sounded interesting. Besides, 
she was very much interested in the man who stood before her. In appearance 
a man who had just stepped off of the Argentinian pampas, pursued by bolo 
throwing cowboys for drinking the blood of their steers, in voice he was an 
English don. 

"Then follow me," he said, turning on his heels and leading the way up a 
spiral staircase. 

Sister Anne followed, her eyes holding tight to the man's behind. She found 
him curiously attractive and noticed that a warm glow was beginning to 
spread amongst her cunt hairs. 

They entered a room whose lights were out, and the only thing that Sister 
Anne could see was a stealthy glow coming from the front of the room. 

"Come with me here," the man said, taking her hand in his and leading her. 
She heard the shuffling of feet, soft hushed coughing, felt the heat of and 
smelled the prescence of many people. Soon she found herself standing by the 
glow, which was a small fire. It lit up her face and made her visible to all 
in the room, while they, in the darkness, remained invisible to her. 

"She has come," the man announced in a loud, precise scholarly voice, to the 
assembled multitude, "and let us bid welcome to this representative of the 
great Catholic faith!" 

Loud applause rang out. Sister Anne turned around to see the man, and she 
saw that he was naked, his huge cock plusing in the ghostly glare from the 
fire. 

She heard a whooshing sound, and suddenly, three other women were standing 
next to her. One was an Indian, one Black, and one an Oriental of some sort. 
All three were holding what appeared to be straw brooms, the kind that 
witches are often portrayed as riding upon, and one of them handed one of 
these instruments to Sister Anne. It had a very short handle. All three 
women were naked, although the Oriental girl, who was very lovely, with wide 
eyes and delicate little breasts, wore a golden crown upon her head that 
looked like it came from Bali or Java. 

"The ancient Aztec ceremony will now begin," the man announced, and with 
that, cock still standing high and proud in the air, he began to leap 
around, jumping high in the air and flapping his arms all around. It seemed 
to Sister Anne that he was moving much like a bird. 

All of this was very puzzling, but it became much more so when all of the 
girls began to thrash the man with their brooms. The lifted them high into 
the air, holding them by their short shaft which gave them excellent 
leverage and good control, and then brought them down hard on the man's 
body. He howled in pain, but was evidently not badly hurt, for his painful 
howls were just part of an odd song which he kept on singing while he 
danced, a song that was more of an animalistic chant than any real song. 
Plus the straw bristles were long and they really gave when they hit, so the 
blows were much muffled. 

Sister Anne didn't know what to do. One voice told her to flee, but the 
other voice told her to stay, and it was this second voice which was the 
most persuasive, because she didn't know where to go, could hardly see 
anything, and certainly didn't want to go around stepping on people; she had 
no idea of what sort of people would be there, except that they would be 
strange. They might be violent for all she knew; it would certainly not be 
un-likely. 

Plus she found herself growing unaccountably excited by all of this. The 
man's dick was so tall and strong looking that seeing it turned her on, and 
the music was hypnotic, as was his dance. She felt out of place because she 
was not taking part in it, although she was evidently meant to, and she also 
felt out of place because she was the only one who was wearing any clothing 
on stage and, for all she knew, perhaps in the entire room. 

Impelled by that same inner voice, Sister Anne removed her habit and flung 
it behind her to stand on the stage absolutely naked. Her skin glowed with 
the red from the fire, and she looked every inch the Amazon warrior, proud 
and haughty her tall, shapely, luscious body easily the most attractive and 
awe inspiring sight there. She breathed heavily, overcome by the excitement, 
her breasts rising and falling along with her excitement. 

The music pounded into her ears, drums played somewhere off stage, where she 
could not have said as all of her perceptions were becoming distorted and 
strange. She held the broom in her hands. The man jumped around. Raising it, 
she brought it down against his skin. 

He shrieked with pain. She was afraid that she had hit and damaged his 
penis, but as he leaped around some more she could see that his penis was 
still there, still tall, still proud, happily bouncing, so emboldened by 
this sign, she hit him again, and again, and again. 

Growing more and more excited, all four women leaped around on the stage, 
their breasts bouncing, their asses swaying. The Black girl was very tall 
and she had short frizzy hair that was soon coated with sweat. Her breasts 
were not so big as Sister Anne's, but they were impressive nonetheless, and 
her flanks were long and sinuous. She was the tallest of the four. The 
Indian girl was somewhat short, and very beautiful, with a full round face 
and smiling lips, black hair that made her look devilish, especially when 
she smiled wickedly and thrashed the man roundly with the straw. From the 
way she really seemed to be into it, Sister Anne judged that she at least 
was a real Aztec. 

The music climaxed and suddenly ended, the man collapsed and lay on a heap 
on the floor. Before Sister Anne knew what was happening, all three of the 
women had dropped to their knees and surrounded the helpless dancer, who lay 
there panting for breath, totally winded and exhausted. It had been a long 
and violent dance. The Oriental girl began stroking the man's cock which had 
gotten soft, but now quickly got hard. The Black girl kissed him long on the 
lips, and the Indian massaged his chest. 

Sister Anne felt out of place because she was the only one on the stage who 
was still standing, so she immediately dropped down too. The dancing and the 
ceremony had gotten her very excited, but what made her feel the best was 
that, for the first time all day, the voices had been stilled. It was as if 
the ceremony had been designed to exorcise them as, in a way, it had, for 
one of its purposes was just to get rid of all thoughts, and to prepare the 
way for pure sensual indulgence. 

Sister Anne knelt to the floor and reached out, touching the man's thighs 
with her soft hands. The Oriental girl was sucking on his cock now and 
Sister Anne felt very jealous looking at her. The man's cock was huge, 
Sister Anne noticed this as she was so close to it now for the first time, 
and the little Oriental girl could not take all of its massive length into 
her mouth. Still, she made a good effort, and Sister Anne could see that the 
man was certainly enjoying all that she was doing to him. 

Her whole head rose and fell along the shaft of his dick, and her eyes were 
intent on doing it, very serious and yet sensuous too, obviously getting off 
on it. She held the dick up in her small hand, with red fingernails that 
glowed from the fire, and then her tongue came out and flickered wildly all 
over the head of the dancer's cock. 

Tired of stroking the man's thighs and looking for some more action, Sister 
Anne noticed that the black chick was veritably sitting on his face. While 
his tongue rapidly shot in and out of her cunt. Sister Anne felt her own 
cunt burning with anxious sympathy, for she could really imagine just how 
fine that felt to the lucky girl. The Indian was sucking the dancer's 
nipples. She wondered how he liked that. 

So Sister Anne began to stroke his balls with her long fingers, enjoying the 
way they felt, so lined, like an old man's forehead, but also so strong. She 
imagined that she could feel the fluids moving around within them, getting 
ready to shoot into the Oriental girl's mouth. Lucky girl, she again 
thought. 

She could hear sounds coming from the audience, although she was still 
unable to see anything. From what she heard it seemed to her that what was 
going on onstage was also going on throughout the room, one immense orgy. 
The thought of so much sexual activity going on throughout the room got 
Sister Anne so excited that she paused in her efforts to play with the 
dancer's balls and began to masturbate, her fingers digging rapidly against 
her cunt, one finger touching her clit, as her legs dangled waving over the 
edge of the stage. 

This sight must have done the trick, and no surprise, for Sister Anne was 
quite a sight as she sat there playing with herself. Another man suddenly 
appeared in the glow of the fire, a tall man with copper skin much like the 
man who had conducted her to this place, and he ran over to Sister Anne with 
a big grin on his face. 

"Huitlcoatl," He said, which meant nothing to Sister Anne, except that she 
figured it was the name of one of his gods. But she didn't care what he was 
talking about. He was naked as the day he was born and his cock was long and 
hard and that was enough information for her. 

All the other girls who had been dancing were busily occupied with fucking 
or sucking the dancer, so Sister Anne decided to get busy as well. She 
opened her mouth wide and looked at the new man's dick. Smiling widely, 
pleased to see that the white girl was joining so well into the spirits of 
the proceedings, he grabbed his cock in one hand and directed it at Sister 
Anne's open and willing mouth. 

She closed her lips upon the head of his cock. It tasted great, spicy yet 
with a very subtle aroma, as though he had scented it with rose hips. 

Wrapping her arms around the man's waist, Sister Anne let her fingers play 
upon the healthy expanse of his firm ass, while her mouth sucked his cock 
with much fervour and passion. It tasted so good that-she tried to swallow 
as much of it as she could. First she had some difficulty in getting all of 
it down, and she gagged a little. The prick was just so long that for a 
moment she doubted whether it would really go down. But she did have such a 
compelling desire to swallow it all the way down that she figured it must be 
a natural desire, and if natural it must be possible. So Sister Anne drew 
her head back a little bit so she just had the tip of the man's cock in her 
mouth. She let her lips play fondly over this tip for a while, while she 
marshalled her energy for the greater effort to come. Her tongue flicked out 
and ran over the cock tip, producing lively sensations. 

Then she thought that she was ready; she felt confident that she would be 
able to get it all down. After all: why not? With this healthy optimistic 
attitude, Sister Anne began to swallow his cock. 

She used her tongue to guide the long shaft into her mouth, directing it 
just where her instinct told her it should go for easiest and fullest 
penetration. 

The man-his name was Alfredo-gasped with pleasure as he felt more and more 
of his long cock sink into the beautiful woman's mouth. She was really the 
most beautiful woman there and he felt himself to be highly privileged to 
have her suck his cock. He never expected she would do such an expert, full 
hearted job on it: that was a kind of bonus, like gravy on his mashed 
potatoes. 

Almost down now, Sister Anne thought to herself with pride and with joy. 
Incredible sensations shot throughout her body. She had never before fully 
realized the extent to which her mouth could accommodate itself in its, and 
her, eternal quest for sexual gratification. The penis filled up her mouth 
and her cheeks ballooned out with the muscular effort to swallow yet more of 
the amazingly long thing. Her tongue kept working to shove it further and 
further in. 

"Uhhh!" Alfredo grunted with intense pleasure. He could feel all of her 
sweet and honey-like mouth working away on his sensitive cock, her cheeks 
expanding and contracting about the shaft, tasting it and squeezing it, 
providing all sorts of hot wet friction, which really fanned his flame, you 
bet. 

Her fingers, remembering how fine Ed's fingers had felt when they had done 
the same to her just the night before, began to travel provocatively up the 
cleft between the man's asscheeks, touching him there with their soft 
knowledge, teasing him, getting closer ever closer to his asshole. 

He plunged his dick in a little bit and felt it hit the back of her throat. 
Sister Anne felt triumphant, for this meant that the whole immense pole was 
now inside her mouth! She was ecstatic! She began to suck Alfredo's dick in 
earnest now, now that she knew that it would go all the way in, now she 
could really move her head around on it, without being afraid that it would 
go in wrong, or cause her to gag, or any other fear of that sort. They were 
banished immediately, all fears, leaving nothing behind but joy and 
increasing technical proficiency. 

She fucked him with her mouth, moving it back and forth with increasing 
speed, her tongue flailing out in all directions, licking all up and down 
the length of his magnificent shaft, which soon glowed from excitement and 
with the moisture from her mouth. 

Sister Anne's forefinger began to plunge into the man's asshole. He tensed 
up at first with sudden pain brought on more by surprise than by anything 
else, because this was surely something that he did not expect, like whipped 
cream poured on top of his gravy. But once he knew what the fine broad 
beneath him was doing, and he had time to feel it, to appreciate the 
sensuous pleasure of being fucked in the ass by her delicate little finger, 
then he went wild with renewed bursts of passion, and began to buck his 
pelvis forward, fucking her in the mouth. 

Sister Anne's cunt was so hot and wet that it felt as though it was going to 
explode. She really wanted this man to fuck her, so she figured that if she 
hurried up and got him to shoot his load soon in her mouth, then he would be 
ready and willing to fuck. 

"Uhhhh!" he moaned very loudly as Sister Anne increased the speed with which 
her mouth and tongue and lips were working away at his long shaft, bobbing 
her head up and down like a crazy woman. Then just for a change of pace she 
removed her head from his cock, looked at the long, pulsating penis for a 
second, just to admire its beauty, and then, holding the cock in her hands, 
holding it by its quite thick base, her tongue began to flicker wildly out 
of her mouth and to wash and kiss and lick it like an ice cream cone, one 
that was melting quickly so it had to be eaten quickly. Eat it quickly she 
did. 

Alfredo grunted with intense satisfaction at all that she was doing to him. 
This was one hot broad. He could feel the pools of come gather and rise up 
the length of his cock, an accustomed journey and one which always produced 
in him the most intense feelings of pleasure, especially by anticipating how 
fine it would feel as soon as the come was released, and as he had an 
extremely long cock, it was a journey that took a fair length of time, 
giving him lots of opportunity to savour every part of it, to really bask in 
the warm glow which the journey of the come up the stem of his cock produced 
throughout his whole body. 

"I'm coming! Oh, I'm coming!" he grunted and squealed, as he felt the come 
pause for a very brief instant right at the tip of his cock. 

As Sister Anne heard this she again seized his cock with her lips and closed 
them tightly around his cock tip, determined this time not to let any of 
that precious creamy fluid escape through her lips but to preserve it all. 
She had heard that it was a sin to waste, and this was one fine substance 
which she definitely did not want to waste, but she wanted to swallow it all 
down just as she had swallowed down all of his cock, where it would warm up 
her belly, warm up her whole person and make her feel even sexier and 
crazier than she felt now. 

"Aaaughhh!" he shouted as the come welled up and out of him and went 
shooting off into the attractive woman's willing mouth in geyser after 
geyser of white cream, scalding her with its psychic force as it flowed like 
hot lava down her throat and seemed to fill her stomach up. She had to work 
almost harder than before to keep it all inside her mouth, closing her lips 
tightly together to keep any of it from escaping, but she liked doing it for 
it brought all of her facial muscles into play, providing maximum contact 
between her lips and his cock, creating a very friction-full surface for his 
cock to travel across as it shot its load of come. 

"Oh! That was good! Yeah!" Alfredo said, grabbing the girl and sinking down 
next to her on the floor. All the while she was sucking his cock he could 
see her body reflected in the red glow coming from the fire, and when her 
lips gave him time to think at all, the only thoughts that he found occuring 
to him concerned fucking her and touching her body all over with his eager 
hands, because she was just such a hunk of sexy womankind that he wanted her 
more than anything he had ever seen. 

"Oh!" she moaned, as she felt Alfredo's lips close upon her right nipple. 
What a man he was! Her arms cradled his head as he commenced to show her 
what a real Latin lover could do. His tongue was all over her. It felt as 
though he had two tongues, three tongues, five tongues. Just as she thought 
that one of her breasts was about to dissolve like a lump of sugar from too 
much fervent tonguing, Sister Anne found that her other breast was equally 
soaked and ready to melt away. Truly, she began to feel as though her whole 
body was just one huge, seething mass of molten metal. Certainly her insides 
were that way, a cauldron of bubbling and boiling fluids. 

And he was not content merely to suck on her tits; he had grander designs on 
her, all of which seemed to involve new parts of her body in new ways. 

He got her down on the stage, lying there on the wrestler's mat, and began 
plunging his avid tongue onto her ear. It amazed her and struck her as a 
very bizarre thing to do. At first it tickled her, so she laughed and shook 
her head, trying to drive him away from her ears, thinking he was just 
teasing her, in a nice way of course. But he kept on running his long tongue 
around the soft part of her earlobe, and then he let it plunge into the 
middle of her ear very slowly, repeatedly, and she felt all hot and wet 
there and started to feel very good, real sexy. So she knew that he had just 
shown her still another erogenous zone. Better yet, the sensations which his 
tongue was producing there were so intense that she just knew they would 
prove to be so memorable that she would remember all about the ear and what 
it could be used for. No need to have a notebook. 

"Oh, that feels so good," she cooed. 

"I thought you would like it. Do it to me," he urged her, and she responded 
avidly, while Alfredo rolled around on the floor, loving it. 

They bumped into another pile of people. It was the first dancer and his 
three girls, and they were really into some hot and heavy scenes, so much so 
that they barely noticed Sister Anne and Alfredo. 

The dancer was fucking the black girl in her cunt while the Oriental girl, 
black hair full of moisture so that it gleamed in the firelight, was kissing 
the black girl's ass, while the Indian was avidly kissing and sucking the 
dancer's asshole, her mouth and her whole face virtually glued to his 
behind. Loud slurping noises erupted from various points about this 
configuration of love. 

But Sister Anne and Alfredo were not jealous. Alfredo not even jealous at 
the dancer, whose name was Raoul, for they were old buddies, having three 
girls to Alfredo's one. Alfredo rightly considered Sister Anne the finest 
woman in the room, and more than a match for any three of the rest put 
together. No, he had no complaints. 

Alfredo's fingers delved deeply into Sister Anne's cunt, feeling how soft 
and squishy she was down there, and how absolutely delightful. His throbbing 
prick urged him to get inside of her very quickly, and as it was Alfredo's 
invariable pursuit to always follow the dictates of his prick, he commenced 
to put it in. 

Getting between her parted thighs, Alfredo directed his long cock at that 
holy opening between every woman's legs and began to shove it in. 

Sister Anne groaned with intense passion and feelings of incipient 
satisfaction as she felt the long cock begin to cleave her cunt, and she 
opened her legs yet wider still to give it more room to get in, and for it 
to get in faster, for she felt a kind of curious itching rising to her 
consciousness from some place far back inside her cunt, an urging for the 
cock to get all the way in and touch bottom, a cry of pain and passion, a 
call for some much needed sexual attention, the kind of attention that could 
only be provided by the kind of hard masculine cock that was at that very 
second, like the hero in some old fashioned cowboy movie, on its way to the 
rescue. 

"Oh, yes! Oh! Yes, darling! Give it to me! Oh, harder!" she called out. 

The prick was all the way in, and now Alfredo commenced to use it. He pulled 
it out and Sister Anne gasped with the sudden fear that the prick would be 
leaving her, but it was an enjoyable fear, like one produced at a horror 
movie as opposed to one produced by a real horror, for she had faith that he 
had no intention of pulling his prick out, but was only pulling it back in 
order to drive it forward again. Which he did. 

"Ooooh!" she grunted loudly as again the prick hit bottom, seeming to scrape 
some of the soft, mucous-like inner skin right away with the force of its 
harsh thrust. 

Her arms wrapped tightly about the man's muscular body. As he moved forward 
and back she could feel the delightful and powerful force of his many 
muscles, all working together, like a well-oiled machine, a fucking machine. 

Her legs raised themselves up in the air and wrapped about him as well, as 
Alfredo continued to fuck her with a passion, the exquisite joy of how it 
felt to have his dick buried inside of her fine juicy cunt written plainly 
all over his face for all to see. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh my!" she exclaimed, as the feelings of sexual satisfaction just 
grew and grew. Just as she thought they were at their height and couldn't 
possibly go any further, just then she felt his hard masterful cock hit 
another part of her cunt, one which she had never before even realized that 
she had. It was truly amazing the things which Alfredo and his trust prick 
could do. 

"Harder! Harder!" she urged him on, as if the demons had possessed her 
again. But it was only his prick which was at fault, the demons were all far 
away. 

Next to them on the stage, the dancer Raoul was sucking the cunt of the 
Indian girl. Her head was thrown back wildly in a position of the utmost 
ecstasy. It was bent in a position which at any other time would surely 
cause her a fair bit of actual pain, for her body was being supported by her 
thighs being held in the man's grip as his head burrowed like an animal 
between her legs, his tongue kissing her all over her cunt. Her whole body 
curved backward in the air and her head almost touched the floor. It was 
really something to see. 

The Black girl and the Oriental were making love to each other, locked in a 
69 embrace, heads to each other's cunts, lapping and kissing and sucking 
with all of their feminine mights, and each doing a really fine job of 
turning on the other, if one could judge by the screams and moans of ecstasy 
that arose from each whenever they had a free mouth. 

But Sister Anne didn't care what else was going on on stage. Elephants could 
have been fucking mules and she wouldn't have noticed. Nor would Alfredo. 
Alfredo usually had quite a cool head about, and was a real lover, so he 
knew how to play things cool, but in this case all of his cool was 
absolutely gone, for the raw vitality and feminine beauty of this woman was 
really driving him crazy, taking him absolutely beyond himself. He couldn't 
even have told you his name at several points during his hot bout with 
Sister Anne's willing flesh and hot, lustful body, which responded instantly 
to every move he made, and which created many of these same moves. They were 
locked together as an indissoluble whole. 

Locked in a heated embrace, he kept pounding his load of meat into Sister 
Anne's quivering cunt, which gave for everything it received, as only a 
heated cunt can give. He felt exquisite pleasure attend every hard thrust of 
his cock, as her cunt walls contracted tightly about his prick and veritably 
oozed and shimmied around it, doing a kind of primitive dance to keep his 
cock entertained and merry. It has, in fact, been stated by various scholars 
who had studied such things that the entire art of dancing had its most 
basic origins with in the female body, in the movements of the cunt walls 
both during the act of sexual intercourse and also at the moment of giving 
birth. Neither Sister Anne nor Alfredo had ever heard of these theories, of 
course, but that did not prevent them from acting them out, as they were now 
doing. 

"Harder! Fuck me harder! Oh! Yes!" 

Sister Anne wanted more and more and more. She could not get enough of his 
mighty cock, no matter how hard he thrusted it into her, she wished he would 
do it harder. 

Hard and fast, it kept on coming, hesitating only long enough to provide the 
rhythmic variation that makes every fuck an individual experience. 

She clutched him as tightly as she could, her big tits rubbing all over 
Alfredo's sweating hairy chest. They felt so good there, so soft and juicy 
and resilient. 

His cock moved backward and then plunged all the way in, and as it did so, 
Alfredo felt the dam burst. 

"Eee-auggh!" he shouted as sperm began to shoot out of him. It flowed in a 
heavy and constant stream into the back reaches of Sister Anne's eagerly 
expectant cunt. 

Sister Anne was not yet quite ready to come, even though she had been 
mercilessly pounded by his cock for quite some time now, plus had been 
really excited by the dancing, by the beatings with the straw, and by the 
acts of oral copulation which had been taking place. But she certainly 
appreciated receiving the man's hot come. It got her even more excited than 
she was already, and she bucked up and down lewdly, twisting her entire body 
from side to side in an excess of lust, loving every second of it. 

Alfredo's cock kept on jerking and shooting his come into her, and then 
suddenly it plopped out. Still shooting come, the cock jerked upward in the 
air and both watched as the creamy fluid flew high into the air, landing in 
hot globules on Sister Anne's thighs and on her wasp-like waist and on her 
quivering belly, hot and sexy. Her fingers reached down and touched the come 
in wonder and with pleasure, and she happily rubbed it all over her excited 
flesh, feeling the softness and the heat of it, how sticky it was. She loved 
it because it accompanied the act of fucking and as thus associated in her 
mind with one of the greatest pleasures which she had ever known. 

"Oh, yeah," Alfredo said, "so good. You're a real honey, you know that? I 
could fuck you all day, all week, hell, even for a month." He smiled at her 
sweetly as he said this. 

"Yummmm," she responded, her hands touching his cock and jerking it upward. 
She still had an orgasm coming, and she wanted something to help it along. 

"It might take a few minutes," he admitted ruefully. "That was really one 
hell of a workout you gave me, young woman." 

"Oh, I need it! I need your prick inside me! I need it now!" She said it 
with such intensity in her voice that Alfredo knew that something had to be 
done, and soon, too. She kept on jerking his cock up and down with her 
fingers desperately. This told Alfredo that she was getting ready to come, 
cock or no cock, so she had better get one soon if she were to experience 
the maximum benefits. 

So, never being a jealous man, Alfredo turned to the audience, an audience 
which, blanketed as it was in almost total darkness, Sister Anne had 
forgotten it was there. He asked, "Would one of you gentlemen like to come 
up here and fuck this young lady for a few moments? Just until I ... 
ahem...." he was too embarrassed to refer any more to the temporary 
infirmity of his prick, which lay there limpid and still. 

There was a rapid stir from the audience, and Sister Anne suddenly blushed 
to realize that hundreds, if not more, people had actually been watching, 
with intense interest no doubt, her performance. 

But her embarrassment did not last for long, for it was rapidly overcome by 
sexual longings and desires as she saw three tall men approach the stage. 

"Just one," Alfredo said, ever the maestro. He pointed to the tallest and 
best-looking of the men, a handsome mulatto of Caribbean extraction. "You." 

The man leaped eagerly onto the stage. His long dick immediately began to 
grow to its full erect size, and Sister Anne's eyes were hypnotically drawn 
to it. She watched it grow large with fascinated wonder, for seeing a man's 
dick grow from a small thing to something huge, and all by itself, too, was 
still something new enough to her experience to be endlessly fascinating. 

"Wonderful," she breathed. 

"You are too," the new man said, "you're the best woman I've ever seen." 

That was nice, but Sister Anne had no time for compliments. Her cunt was 
giving her no rest. It demanded a cock, and demanded one now. 

She spread her legs wide and the man came to her, holding his dick in his 
hand. Within seconds, knowing her passion, he had slipped it right in. And 
as soon as he got it in he commenced to fuck her. 

This too was something new in Sister Anne's experience, to be fucked in 
rapid succession by two different men. They fucked her the same way, sort 
of; in and out, that sort of thing. But she was surprised to notice how 
different each of them felt, how different their pricks felt, and their mode 
and style of operation as well, this too affected her physical sensations. 
Now Alfredo had been quite different from young Ed, but since those two acts 
had taken place at a distance in time and space from each other, it was 
harder to precisely gauge the difference. Not that Sister Anne was much 
inclined to rate any of her new lovers, for they all made her feel great, 
and she loved young Ed so much that she just couldn't imagine anyone making 
her feel better; there was a large psychic component to her, or to anyone's 
pleasure, that rules out absolute quantitative judgment. But here she could 
certainly appreciate two different styles of fucking, and enjoy them both. 
It was a true education. 

As this new man fucked her his hands grabbed both of her tits at once and 
squeezed them rhythmically. It was her tits that had done the most to 
attract him to her, and that had instantly compelled him to race up to the 
stage as soon as he had heard Alfredo's kind offer. He got off on big 
breasts. 

His strong fingers surrounded Sister Anne's nipples and played with them 
incessantly, and Sister Anne felt churning sensations rise in her breasts 
and shoot from there throughout her entire person, like rapid-fire machine 
gun bullets ripping through her interior flesh. 

Then he started to suck her tits, and she liked that even more, his big lips 
sucking her nipples and her aureoles as deeply into his mouth as he could 
imagine, and his tongue then running out all over the nipples, drenching 
them and getting them hard and pointed, like knives. 

"Yes! Oh, yes! Yes!" was all that Sister Anne could say, as his hard cock 
kept driving into her. 

He was in a strange position, motivationally speaking, for he wanted to give 
her pleasure but on the other hand he wanted to keep on fucking her, and he 
knew that if he gave her too much pleasure she would come right away, and he 
had just started fucking her, after all. 

But he was a nice guy, and realized that his desires, however strong they 
might be, and they were in fact quite fierce, were wholly secondary to the 
pleasure of this woman, for she was the star of the show, the star of the 
whole evening, and he had been brought up there solely as an aide, as a 
person hauled out of the audience, as on a TV variety show, for minor 
interest, for a few laughs, to show the folks at home that the stars of the 
show are real people, too. He had, in short, a very subsidiary role to play, 
which might be enjoyable, but must not be allowed to take over. 

Having decided this, his course was set. His cock rode in and out of her 
with renewed fury, and it was with a sense of intense gratification that he 
felt her cunt clasp his cock spasmodically as an orgy of pleasure passed 
across her features, and to hear her hoarse sexual grunts and shouts. 

"Ahhhh! Ahhh! Ahhh-Eeee!" 

Her face contorted with pleasure as her body writhed uncontrollably from 
side to side. Her orgasm had her now, and as it held her in its firm grip, 
it held, too, the attention of every eye in the house. All other action had 
stopped to witness this stupendous scene. Sister Anne was like a woman 
possessed, and her shouts were loud enough to reach heaven, loud enough to 
raise the dead. 

Her coming so excited the man that he, too, began to quiver all over, and 
then his cock shot its load right into her quivering essence, which only 
served to make Sister Anne come the more, convulsed with wave after wave of 
lewd lust. Then she collapsed and immediately passed out, short-circuited by 
too much pleasure too soon. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

The next morning Sister Anne awoke back in her room at the orphanage with 
only a foggy idea of how she had arrived there. She remembered the scene on 
the stage, the orgy, easily enough. Then she remembered drinking wine, and 
fucking another man ... or was it two men? And then looking for her habit, 
and finding it torn and disheveled. How would she get back? One of the men 
was kind, and under cover of darkness he and his car had spirited her back 
to the orphanage, where she had managed to crawl into her room without being 
noticed. She had been lucky. 

Mixed up with many conflicting thoughts, Sister Anne didn't know just what 
to do or what to think. She was really ashamed of what had happened the 
night before. It had been really scandalous. Yet she had enjoyed it so much! 
The only conclusion which Sister Anne could draw about her delight in the 
grotesque orgy was that many years of sexual repression demanded some such 
outlet in which to totally break free of her old hang ups. She just hoped 
that she would never again have to go through something like that. Being on 
display for public enjoyment! Horrible! 

Troubled as she was, Sister Anne found the old routine of her life calling 
out to her, like the welcome loving voice of her mother. She dressed and 
walked down the long corridors to the chapel. 

Entering its cool familiar sanctuary, subtly darkened and smelling of the 
familiar incense, Sister Anne approached the fount, dipped in her hand to 
the holy water, and touched it to her forehead, her shoulders, making the 
sign of the cross. This was an action she had done many times of course, 
touching the fluid to her flesh, but somehow today it felt different, it 
reminded her of something, but what? Then she knew. It felt like come! 

Shaking off this disagreeable sensation, which only recalled to her 
protesting mind the public humiliation which she had undergone the night 
before, Sister Anne approached her accustomed pew. 

She genuflected before getting into the pew, trying to keep her mind on the 
Lord and to push all else aside. That was the virtue of the chapel, that it 
was a sanctuary, a refuge from the world outside, a place where you could be 
alone with your thoughts and with Jesus Christ. 

But she felt something pushing against her thigh, something heavy. It felt 
like a man's hand! She looked-it was nothing but the rosary, hanging at its 
accustomed place alongside her thigh, as light as ever. What was she 
imagining? 

Getting into the pew, Sister Anne kneeled down to pray. She recalled the 
words earlier in the week spoken by the Mother Superior in her address to 
the young nuns: "Say your rosaries this week for the poor souls in Tai Pei." 
Yes, Sister Anne thought, that would be the right thing to do, it would be a 
good way also of getting her mind off her own problems, to think about and 
pray for those who were even less fortunate, much less fortunate in fact, 
people who had to really suffer. 

Sister Anne kissed the Cross which hung at the end of her rosaries. As she 
did this, it occurred to her, being in the mood and all, that it would be a 
good time to do the Five Sorrowful Mysteries. She was not at all in the mood 
for the Five Joyful Mysteries, and especially not for the Five Glorious 
Mysteries. 

The crown of thorns, the whipping, the burden of the Cross, the blood, the 
scourge, all of these images flew into her mind, images having to do with 
the Saviour of mankind, images which seemed to her to be her just deserts 
for having abandoned all that she had been taught concerning God's will. 

She concentrated with all of her might on her prayers, saying each Sorrowful 
Mystery when she came to the appropriate bead on the rosay, intent on 
praying, producing very intense Our Fathers and Hail Marys. She was so 
intent on this that she scarcely heard or saw or in any way noticed when 
Brother Jerome came in and knelt down onto his knees just a few feet down 
the pew from her. Nor did she notice his eyes, as they turned to regard her 
with more than mere Brotherly interest. 

Sister Anne continued to pray, but somehow the magical effects of the 
prayers upon her troubled psyche failed to work, and she found her thoughts 
drifting back to the scenes that had taken place the night before, to scenes 
of the orgy, and again she saw hot glistening male bodies and long, lithe 
cocks, standing high and tall in the firelight. 

She shook her head vigorously to clear these horrible images away. In so 
doing her eyes came into contact with those of Brother Jerome's, and she 
noticed that he was not praying either but was looking straight at her with 
a hard and direct stare. It embarrassed her. She turned away, back to her 
rosary, but this time she really could not keep her mind at it at all. She 
felt his eyes still upon her, and although she liked Brother Jerome, as he 
was young and strong and friendly, the coach of the boy's basketball team, 
still his eyes upon her distracted her, and made her think even more of all 
sorts of disgusting vile things. 

Now knowing how else to escape his unwanted and uncalled for attentions, 
Sister Anne stood up and decided to do the Stations of the Cross. This 
ritual would necessitate her walking about the chapel to each of the 
different stations, and would take her away from the distracting presence of 
Brother Jerome. 

Her thoughts returned to their well-frequented paths, those of religiousity 
and of pity, pity for Jesus, who was forced to carry the Cross. It was so 
heavy, he knelt so low under its weight, his face was strained with the 
exertion and the pain. 

Footsteps behind her, hot breath against her neck. Sister Anne did not turn 
and she did not look to see why. It was her burden, her Cross to bear. 

The Stations of the Cross. Christ wearing the Crown of Thorns. How it dug 
into his flesh! Cutting him! She could see the red blood, oozing out of the 
scrapes and cuts. It looked like come. No! It didn't look like come, had no 
resemblance to come. She felt hot breath on her cheek. Could Brother Jerome 
be following her? She wanted to turn her face, to look and see if it was 
indeed Brother Jerome, whose breath she could hear, so close to her ear. But 
her head was immobile, as though sculpted in rock. 

Concentrate on Jesus and his sufferings and all will be well. Forget the 
feelings of lust. They are the work of the devil. But Sister Anne could no 
longer heed these voices. Despite herself, her face turned, expecting to see 
the devil, expecting to see ... Brother Jerome! 

Their eyes met and locked tightly together. Again Sister Anne felt as if she 
had been frozen in time, as if the muscles of her body no longer functioned. 
She was afraid of this man whose steely gray eyes held hers as in a trance. 
Her knees felt weak and her body began to tremble slightly. She wanted to 
stop it, to control it, but she could not. She had no control over herself 
at all. And she found herself growing excited, sexually excited, a kind of 
wet lust-oozing up from between her legs and infecting her whole body as it 
traveled. First her belly felt it, and began to shake slightly, but 
perceptibly, moving as if already in the throes of sexual passion. Then her 
breast began to heave, and her nipples grew erect. Brother Jerome just 
stared at her, and he smiled. Did he know the thoughts and feelings passing 
through her body? Her neck now, too, was excited, but her brain was still 
repulsed by the whole situation, frightened by Brother Jerome's almost 
overpowering sexual nearness, angered at his smug expression, as he leered 
at her. 

Her face began to glow with an unholy fire as the sexual desire continued to 
spread upward. Her mouth opened in a lewd smile, but her brain still 
rebelled. No, it told her. No, no, no! 

Her ears grew warm and she could feel hot wind whistling through her, a wind 
which blotted out the negative voices. 

Then the sexual desire hit her brain, finally, and then all thoughts were 
one, one desire, one great need, and she reached out her arms, which had 
suddenly come to life and were again under her control-or were they really 
under the control of her cunt? It didn't really matter, for they were both, 
cunt and brain, the same, and working in absolute and exquisite harmony. 

Without looking to see if anyone else was in the chapel, Sister Anne's hand 
grabbed Brother Jerome around his neck and shoulders and drew him to her, in 
a passionate embrace that was full of suddenly released sexual longing. 

Sister Anne moaned with feverish passion, "Oh! Brother Jerome!" Her moans 
were not without effect upon Brother Jerome, but he suddenly remembered 
where they were. "Oh, my God! Not here-suppose the Rector was to suddenly 
come in just as I'm coming! He'd have me horse-whipped!" 

"Oh, yes, Brother Jerome, yes, yes! Whip me! Make the blood roll down my 
face! Just likejust like-our Own Sweet Saviour Jesus-Oh, let me feel what 
it's like to be tortured-to be scourged and whipped. Oh, my God, yes, whip 
me!" 

He stopped short in sudden surprise. "I, I, I...." 

At this point Sister Anne decided to take matters into her own hands. She 
reached under his cassock and felt a telltale bulge through the layers of 
coarse cloth. "Ah, ha, so you are turned on too, you would like to really 
explore the sorrowful mysteries." 

Brother Jerome looked abash, "Aw, fuck, Sister Anne, I just want to ram it 
up your cunt. It's been a mighty long time since I waded into a crazy little 
bitch of a nun like you." 

"Oh, so you have fucked other nuns before!" 

Brother Jerome grinned like a fool at that thought and of the fine piece of 
nookie he was about to get. She was slim but with the firmest tits you could 
ever hope to see, and actually they weren't all that small, and her trim 
young legs which he had been dreaming of for the past who-knows-how-many 
weeks, and her tight young ass that he longed to ram his brick-like prick-" 

He came out of his reverie as a sudden sharp pain invaded his balls. "What 
the...." He started to say, as Sister Anne began to laugh. 

"Now you're beginning to get an intimate idea of what it felt like for our 
Sweet Sweet Baby Jesus!" she burbled out hysterically. 

But if the Baby Jesus ever had a set of rosary beads wrapped around his 
balls and prick, and pulled tight by a nun driven to the absolute edge of 
human frenzy, it had not come down in any of the gospels. 

"I want to see blood dripping down your prick, then I'll lick it off and you 
can feel the sweet, sweet, bittersweet tingling-Oh the tingling-as my saliva 
mixes with your salty blood...." 

Her crazy talk was beginning to get to him. So what if he was down here in 
the chapel with a crazy, absolutely sex-crazy nun pulling tight a set of 
rosary beads around his prick and now she was starting to lick his prick. 
Oh, wow, this might turn out okay after all, he thought. Of course she was 
obviously crazy. It was incredible what sexual abstinence could do to you. 
That was it, of course! She hadn't probably been fucked since she hitched 
up. Poor kid. She didn't know that celibacy crap was for the birds, and the 
saints, and the nuts, oh, and maybe the Pope-after all, somebody had to keep 
up appearances, and the bid guy had everything an old fogey would probably 
want: money, power. Yeah, all the best ingredients for a choice life, and he 
didn't even have, to work that much. Politics, it was all politics. Once, 
not so many years back, Brother Jerome had had fond hopes of becoming Pope. 
He had a friend in Rome. Ah, but it had never panned out; he never even made 
Bishop. If only he had learned to kiss ass! Well, maybe he would be able to 
remedy that failing this very afternoon, for as his hands stole up quickly 
yet stealthily under Sister Anne's habit, his eager fingers came into 
intimate contact with a juicy ass that he would just love to kiss, and bite 
and nibble upon as well. Yes, all of those things, and more, many more. His 
mouth watered at the thought. 

"Sister Anne, I want to kiss your ass," she heard him say, but was too busy 
to answer back, as her mouth was wrapped tightly around his prick and was 
moving back and forth in a veritable orgy of voluptuousness. 

"Uhhh! Ahhh!" he grunted, feeling her firm lips grab and squeeze his long 
member, hugging it tightly as her tongue flashed out over its red crown, 
stiff and hard with lust and with gathering violence of sexual release. 

Her head was buried tightly against his genitals and it made quite a strange 
picture, if anyone had come into the chapel right then, to see a nun with 
her face burrowing in upon Brother Jerome's cassock, and to hear the 
slurping sounds which her tongue, lips and cheeks produced. 

Her tongue flickered out over the tip of his cock, kissing the point where 
the seminal fluid shot out, and Brother Jerome winced with pleasure. He no 
longer worried about anyone coming in. Let them! Let them all see! 

As she kissed the very tip of his cock, she wanted more, she wanted the cock 
to be longer, bigger, to stand out even more from his body. This was rather 
an unnatural desire, for while Brother Jerome did not possess the largest 
dick among the Brothers of the Oprhanage (that honor belonged to the Mother 
Superior's favorite, the afore mentioned Brother Mark) still, his pole was 
quite sizable and enough to give any girl, even the largest and the biggest 
cunted, quite a workout. 

But Sister Anne's mind was still inflamed both by the Aztec orgy and, even 
more mysteriously, by the Stations of the Cross. So she grabbed hold of the 
rosary, which was still wrapped around the base of Brother Jerome's cock and 
balls, right where they met his groinal region, and while her mouth 
swallowed down more of his cock, gulping it as if it were a choice morsel of 
food, she began to pull the rosary tighter, hoping in this way to push the 
cock right off his body and into her mouth, squeezing it like toothpaste 
from a tube. 

At first Brother Jerome did not even feel this. All of his sensory nerves 
were more than taken up with just feeling the work which her tongue was 
doing on his cock tip, for that just felt so fine that there was no room for 
any other sensations. But Sister Anne kept pulling the rosary tighter and 
tighter around his cock and balls, and then it began to hurt. 

"Ah! Oh!" he ejaculated wordlessly. "What? Oh, oh, stop! Stop! Oh! Oh!" 

Good as her lips felt, for she was truly giving him about the finest head he 
had ever experienced, Brother Jerome tried to shove Sister Anne away from 
him, for he was suddenly beset by the very real and present fear that her 
tightening of the rosary around his precious tool was about to disconnect it 
from his body, and then he would never be able to use it again. No! That 
could not be! 

"Stop! Stop! Please stop!" 

But his cries were to no avail, and her hands tightened the rosary still 
more, as her mouth tried to suck his dick right off his body. This was not 
characteristic of Sister Anne at all, not of her personality nor of her 
habits. We can only excuse her on this occasion by remembering the state to 
which her nerves had been carried by the quick and awesome series of events. 

Brother Jerome was strong, and thought he was afraid that if he pushed her 
head away she would clasp her teeth down upon his prick and bite it right 
off, a particularly horrible fear, as any man who has ever felt it will 
readily attest, still he knew that if he didn't do something he would lose 
his prick anyway. It was already turning blue from lack of blood. 

So he shoved her away from him by twisting her shoulders painfully and 
pushing. Sister Anne suddenly fell upon the floor, bouncing her ass with a 
great jolt. The jolt seemed to wake her from her trance. 

"What?" she exclaimed, looking up past his blue and trembling prick, still 
draped with the rosary, into his astonished face. 

"You were about to remove my sexual member from my body, my dear," he said 
gently, befitting his role as a gentle messenger of Jesus. 

"Oh, my," was all she could say, highly embarrassed and hardly knowing what 
to expect of herself next. 

"Come then, let us a find a more appropriate location for our discussion. 
Let us say, in this side chapel?" Brother Jerome indicated a chapel which 
had been decorated many years previously by a very rich patron, who had 
hired a famous artist, circa 1890, to paint a picture of Saint Sebastian, 
arrows in his breast, with the patron and his wife praying at the Saint's 
feet, as was the custom in paintings of the 15th Century. Brother Jerome 
liked this chapel a lot because it possessed long pews which were wide 
enough to accommodate his girth (he weighed 230 pounds of hard muscle), and 
also because the pews had soft cushions along their entire lengths. But most 
of all he liked it because it was only rarely used for anything other than 
what he intended to use it for now. 

"Come, my dear," he repeated, reaching down and taking Sister Anne by her 
hand, hoisting her to her pretty little feet, and leading the way into the 
intimate chapel. Just walking into it always got him hot because of the 
memories of fine times he had there. 

His dick still standing out like a flagpole, he led the young nun to the pew 
and she sat down. His dick stared her in the face, and Brother Jerome would 
have liked it if she had closed her lips upon it immediately and recommenced 
to suck, despite his recent fears of his cock being mutilated. But for some 
unknown reason Sister Anne did not do this. Unknown to him, at the sight of 
Saint Sebastian, who had suffered so much because of his faith, Sister Anne 
was suddenly overcome with self-loathing, and as she looked at Brother 
Jerome and his immense cock staring her in the face, she was overcome with 
shame at the extent to which the Blessed Church had fallen in these sad, 
modern times, and she no longer wanted to be a part of these doings. 

"What's wrong?" Brother Jerome asked, sitting down next to her on the pew, 
his prick gradually subsiding as it realized it would not be getting any of 
her feminine attentions too quickly. 

She said nothing, just looked up tearfully at the image of the Saint, 
looking at the arrows. 

Brother Jerome's hands touched her shoulders and began to work the habit 
down off them, revealing the soft pink flesh which so enchanted all of his 
libidinous senses. 

His hands stroked her shoulders, continally shoving the habit further and 
further down the nun's body, until her two massive tits leaped into view, a 
very appropriate verb because as they cleared the habit, the released force 
as it pushed past them caused the breasts to wobble and jiggle in momentous 
fashion, moving like to startled deer in a forest clearing. Brother Jerome 
could then tell that while Sister Anne's mind might be upon Saint Sebastian, 
her body was certainly thinking about sex, for her two nipples were as pert 
and as ready and as erect as any two nipples could be. 

"You're beautiful," he expostulated. 

Sister Anne did not even hear him. Her mind was far away, both in space and 
time. 

His hands touched her tits gently and caressed them lovingly, admiring xhe 
way they touched his hands with their nipples, as if her nipples were little 
fingers reaching out to him, and he really dug the way they rebounded to his 
touch. 

Touching them harder, Brother Jerome squeezed the milky white flesh and 
pressed in, molding her breasts as if they were made of clay. 

Still Sister Anne said nothing and did not move. Her body as a whole did not 
respond, only her breasts. But they glowed! 

"So fine!" Brother Jerome moaned happily, as he brought his lips down to her 
nipples. His tongue darted out across each nipple in turn, moistening it, 
feeling its hardness against his soft tongue. 

"Yum," he said. 

Then he took as much of her left breast into his mouth as he could, which 
still left quite a bit out of course, for her breasts were not getting any 
smaller; they were getting bigger, if anything, because of all the sexual 
attention they had been receiving recently. His lips pulled the tit in and 
his cheeks distended themselves to receive as much of the curvaceous, soft, 
tasty flesh as he could manage, sucking it right in. His tongue never 
stopped moving and licking and kissing and tasting, traveling all over every 
part of her left breast. 

"Our Father...." Sister Anne said, praying, her eyes looking heavenward, 
trying not to think about what was happening to her body in this world, but 
only of the Holy World in the Sky. 

Meanwhile Brother Jerome's hands were pulling her habit further off of her 
fine body, anxiously now and in a rush, because the more of her firm, peachy 
flesh he saw, the more he wanted to see. 

The habit slipped to the floor and lay there in a black puddle. Sister 
Anne's shapely pink and white ankle rose out of the midst of this like two 
pillars reaching to the sky, and stood there immobile, as Sister Anne 
desperately tried to disassociate her mind from what was happening to her 
body. 

Brother Jerome gasped with unfeigned delight as all of Sister Anne's lovely 
nakedness strode into view. Her fine big ass was so delicious that he almost 
fell to eating it right then, but first he forebore long enough to let his 
eyes roam eagerly across her body, reveling in its amazing fleshiness and 
firmness. 

Sister Anne could no longer keep her mind away from what was happening to 
her body. The feelings which had been building up in her cunt could not be 
resisted any more, especially as soon as she felt Brother Jerome's hot 
breath whip across her ass. Some of it blew right up between the cleft of 
her asscheeks, and she could feel its hot power blowing right against her 
sensitive asshole. This sent tingles throughout her body, and caused goose 
bumps to form on the delicate flesh of her arms and calves, causing her to 
shiver all over and almost fall down. 

"Oh, Sister, oh!" Brother Jerome moaned softly, as his lips began to kiss 
her ass all over, firm hard wet kisses, that let his tongue slip out between 
his lips to wipe her ass softly, as if he was worshipping her, and the more 
he did it the more Sister Anne came to feel as a kind of Goddess, as a 
Saint, she began to see herself, instead of Saint Sebastian, in the painting 
above the altar. So the religious feelings which had been coursing through 
her body all morning became manifest now as a feeling of sexuality, and they 
were centered upon her cunt, which blazed with a newly found fire. 

She felt the Brother's tongue lapping at her asshole now, and she knelt down 
a little bit to give him easier egress to this sensitive and hidden spot of 
her anatomy. His tongue flew in and out of it, lapping away gently yet with 
a steady force that was driving her wild. 

"Oh, yes! Yes! Kiss me! Kiss me there! Yes! You're doing it well! Oh yes!" 
Sister Anne moaned out in low tones, not wanting to attract the attention of 
whatever new worshippers were coming into the Chapel, wanting to be alone 
with Brother Jerome and to feel his tongue all over her body. Gone were any 
thoughts of protest. Sister Anne was as desirous of this now as was the 
Brother. 

Brother Jerome rose to his feet, his huge cock standing out and jabbing 
Sister Anne in the belly. His face was red with sexual excitement, and he 
was breathing heavily. 

"Sister Anne," he said, "You are the finest nun in the world. I'm crazy 
about you. I always have been. But you were always so...." 

"Cold?" she finished his hesitating sentence,, His look did not contradict 
her words. She looked at him triumphantly. "Well, I'm not cold any more. I'm 
hot as hell, randy, and ready to go. So let's go!" 

That was all Brother Jerome needed to know. His prick didn't even need that. 
It was hard and hot and already digging into her belly, searching for an 
entrance, an ass, a cunt, a mouth, any kind of entrance, it just wanted in 
and didn't care how. 

"The pew!" he exclaimed, leading her there. It was only a few inches away, 
so they made it without any trouble, his prick trembling all the while. 

He lay her down upon the pew and Sister Anne spread her legs wide, parted 
thighs moving slowly from side to side, enticingly, urging Brother Jerome 
on. 

Grasping his long cock between his fingers, Brother Jerome aimed it at her 
cunt. 

"Take your cassock off first. I want to see you nude," she said in lewd 
tones, halting Brother Jerome's progress, but getting him very excited, 
making him realize that he turned her on as much, or almost as much as she 
turned him on. 

"Yes, yes, right away," he answered her, as a little boy answers his mother 
who has just told him to wash up before eating his dinner. 

In a jiffy the cassock was off, and laying on top of Sister Anne's habit on 
the floor, just as within seconds Brother Jerome would be laying on top of 
Sister Anne on the pew's soft, velvet cushion, which was already 
come-stained from many such sessions in the past. 

Her cunt was red and glowing with need, and Brother Jerome's prick found it 
easily, instantly, and began to burrow inside, as the Brother crouched 
between her legs, feeling the heat from her crotch spread out to warm him 
up. 

"Ahhh! Oh, so good!" she cooed as she felt the hard tip of his cock split 
open her cunt lips and began to penetrate deeply into her. 

She shifted her hips, to allow him to penetrate more easily, and to get 
herself comfortable on the pew. It was a soft cushion, but still this was 
not the best fucking spot in the world, not like a bed, for example. 

"Oh, your cunt is fine! So tight, so sensuous," he said to her, as he felt 
it penetrate all the way in. He was pushing it in slowly, as he wanted to 
experience all of her cunt in great detail, in close-up, as it were. 

But Sister Anne was so enflamed by his cock as it entered into her that she 
urged him on, she needed all of it inside her right away. 

"Faster! Harder! Yes, like that! Yes! More! Yes! Fuck me harder! Faster!" 

Her cries were like an insane litany, like a primitive chant that had no 
end. She cried out to Heaven and thrashed about, as the prick slid deeper 
and deeper into her cunt. 

Having gotten his cock all the way down to the bottom, Brother Jerome shoved 
it around, exploring all of the soft places within her cunt. Now he wanted 
to give her one hell of a fine fucking, so in order to get leverage he got 
his hands beneath her firm fleshy ass and began to lift it up into the air. 
His knees were on the pew's cushion, so as he lifted her up, all the while 
keeping his cock buried deeply in her honeypot, he grabbed her legs and 
pushed them back, back, toward her head, so that her ass faced him and his 
cock in her cunt had full freedom of movement, and he was in complete 
control, able to fuck her any way he wanted, and as hard as he wanted, as 
hard as she wanted, as hard as it was possible for man to fuck woman, for 
that was as they both wanted it. 

This was a new position for Sister Anne, and she relished it. She could feel 
his cock running against places of her cunt that had never felt a cock 
before, and it felt great, so great that she almost fainted with the 
pleasure. 

"That feels nice. Yes, very nice," she moaned softly, her lips scarcely 
opening, her eyes half closed. She looked to be as contented as a kitten, 
sunning itself on a window sill. 

"It's one of the best positions for complete contact and full access," 
Brother Jerome explained to her, with much the same tone as he used to the 
students in his economics class. But he fucked her with real gusto, that 
belied that rather impersonal tone. And besides, feelings of such near 
heavenly bliss were floating through Sister Anne's body that she discerned 
no coldness in his tone, discerned nothing but cock. 

Sister Anne looked so full and womanly beautiful beneath him as he fucked 
her, that Brother Jerome reached out with his hands and fondled her breasts 
as they jiggled all around, like a couple of tops, under the onslaught of 
his heavy prick, as it rammed and rammed into her honey cunt, making the 
cream rise and splash out of her in torrential, sudden bursts, like summer 
showers in the tropics, the kind of rains that accompany the monsoons. 

"Eeee! Ohhh!" she moaned, lost in a world of feeling, no longer aware she 
was in the chapel, thinking of nothing but cock and of what a really fine 
man Brother Jerome was. 

His fingers played with her ass now, feeling the weight of it in his hands 
as he hoisted her sweet bottom high into the air and bobbled her around like 
a basketball, but a basketball with a cunt. 

His fingers slid up the route between her asscheeks which was, next to her 
cunt, the warmest and most invigoratingly sexual part of her body. She 
quivered with expectation as his fingers approached her cunt, and her 
expectations were not disappointed or frustrated, for as his finger reached 
her asshole rather than just stop there, it began to manipulate it. 

"Yes! Oh yes!" she called out, pleased to discover that Brother Jerome was 
truly, as he had given promise of being, a real ass man, and that was good 
to her because she loved her ass being touched. 

His fingers first played lightly upon her asshole, touching it repeatedly as 
if it were a tiny finger drum, the kinds used in various African bands. As 
he patted out a tympanic message against her asshole, the rhythm spread 
through her body and exploded in loud noises inside her head, making her 
dizzy with an increment of lust. 

"Ohhhh," she moaned, as though dying. 

Brother Jerome let his index finger slide slowly into her asshole. A brief 
surge of pain was rapidly replaced by complete plasure within Sister Anne as 
the finger rode in deeper and deeper, as she felt herself being fucked by 
his cock in her cunt and his finger in her asshole, fucked twice at once, 
the best possible sensation for any woman, let alone a once uptight nun, to 
feel. 

"Yesss," she hissed, like a snake. 

Brother Jerome felt completely in control now, as if he could make this 
woman do whatever he wanted her to. Pleasure was the key, using it, man 
could always control a woman. It was his only hope. 

He drove his dick into her with every greater fierceness and speed, proud to 
be man and glad to be alive, exulting in the force of his dick and in the 
way it was able to drive this incredibly beautiful woman absolutely wild 
with passion. 

"Yes! Yes! Oh! Oh!" 

Sister Anne's cunt was now a seething cauldron of juices that had been 
stirred so much they managed to heat way beyond the boiling point without 
boiling over which only meant that when they finally were released, it would 
be with a really awe-inspiring, almost frightening intensity. 

Brother Jerome was aware of that, even more so than poor Sister Anne. He 
knew what was in store for her, but she just kept riding with it blindly, 
like a surfer on a real fine immense dangerous wave, who is so hypnotized by 
the exulting feeling of the surf that he forgets all about the dangers that 
awaits him when the wave finally breaks. 

His index finger plunged in and out of her tight, juicy asshole, so hot with 
passion, and his cock rode in and out of her cunt, both with very similar 
rhythms, so that Sister Anne lost track of which was which, did not know 
what was happening to her, only that it was fine. 

The walls of her cunt contracted spasmodically around Brother Jerome's ever 
thrusting hard cock, making a friction full bed for his cock to ride in and 
out of, and her legs kept thrashing about lewdly in the air. 

Her cunt grabbed his cock with such force and speed that Brother Jerome new 
that she was getting ready to come. He couldn't wait. It would not really be 
a rare and entrancing sight to see Sister Anne, not only the best-looking 
nun, but one of the most spectacular women he had ever seen, totally 
wallowing in lustful excess, absolutely in his control. 

Control! The very thought of it gave him pleasure, and got him fucking her 
with still greater force, so that his cock reared way back into the air and 
seemed to pause there for a tiny part of a second, to gather new energy, as 
though soaking it in from the ether, before ramming into her with a fury 
that few had ever experienced. He was like a wild animal, the way his cock 
fucked her, with a wild unbridled passion. 

"Ahhhh!" she screamed hoarsely, as her orgasm seized her and refused to let 
go. 

Her face had never looked sexier as now, when it was absolutely convulsed 
with intensely gratified lust. Her eyes were opened wide, shut tight, all 
within a second; then they opened again. 

Her fingernails scraped Brother Jerome's flesh. She was like a mad woman, 
with no concepts of morals or of good and evil, knowing only the pleasures 
of the flesh. Her skin broke out in a hot sweat; it bathed her, as after a 
shower. Her toes curled up tightly, like little babies in the fetal 
position. Her whole body took on a highly aroused air, and she exuded a 
strong whiff of unadulterated sex. 

Brother Jerome's cock remained firmly embedded in her spasming orgasmic 
cunt, like a hard rod buried deep in a volcano as it spewed forth its hot 
lava. But as such a stick cannot stay there long without metling or being 
spewed away, so, too, did Brother Jerome's cock feel the contagious fire 
from Sister Anne's sexual organ. 

The come gathered at the tip of his cock. He tried to hold it back, but it 
was no use. He let it flow, and he flowed with it, enjoying one of the 
greatest orgasms he had ever had in that chapel. He smiled with a wicked 
gleam spreading across his face as the come flew out of his thrusting cock 
and shot all the way into the hidden backwaters of the woman's cunt, as her 
whole body quivered and shook from the force of their mutual orgasms. 

Brother Jerome finally lost some of his much vaunted self-control, as his 
face contorted with pleasure. He screamed low guttural sounding howls, like 
a dog, as he shot wave after wave of come into her, and he shook her ass 
from side to side wildly, directing her cunt in swirling movements around 
his still plunging cock, to get even more varying sensations there against 
his highly excited membrane. 

"Uhhhh," he grunted, as his eyes closed and the last bit of hot come landed 
in her cunt. 

The come drove her out of her mind, and Sister Anne slowly collapsed back 
onto the pew's cushion, feeling totally worn out, but her whole body glowed 
with power, filled as it was with Brother Jerome's essential manliness, a 
gift that would energize her for quite a while to come. 

"That was excellent," Brother Jerome commented, as if correcting one of his 
student's disquisations. His soft cock was now quite limp and wet, and thus 
it plopped out of her cunt with a characteristic sound. 

Sister Anne regarded it lovingly, her eyes open wide, a smile upon her sweet 
lips. "Oh, Brother Jerome," she said throatily, and that was all. 

Saint Sebastian looked down and said nothing at all. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Sister Anne entered the confessional, trembling with fright. She had 
confessed many horrible things in the past, lies and lustful thoughts, but 
never had she had sins like these to report. Just to think of them made her 
skin crawl, not when she thought about how enjoyable all of her sins had 
been, for she had loved every minute of them, and by this time Sister Anne 
had accepted that fact, and was able to look at it without flinching. But 
what frightened her the most was when she regarded the sin as her Father 
Confessor would look at it. She had committed venial sins frequently, like 
getting angry when Sister Mariette burned the dinner and refused to give her 
the oregano, and also when she stubbed her toes and said, taking the Lord's 
name in vain, "Jesus, my toe!", and when she saw Sister Charlotte coming out 
of the shower, she thought, her boobs are so much smaller than mine, but 
that was a moral sin, one of the worst. But still, it didn't seem to her 
nearly as bad as those she had just committed, like engaging in the Aztec 
orgy, for instance. It seemed to her that they would almost have to invent a 
whole new category of sins to cover that one, for it was a honey. 

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," Sister Anne said humbly, as she knelt 
in the darkened booth. 

"It is four days since I've last sinned. That is ninety-seven hours to be 
exact since I last went to Confession," said the young nun. 

The Father was bored. Sister Anne never had any good sins. Still, he might 
as well listen: that was what he was there for. 

"I have committed fifteen sins against the Holy Ghost's Truth." she 
enunciated without much hesitation. These ones didn't bother her much. 

The Father Confessor yawned. Big deal, he thought, big fucking deal. 

"I have commited the sin with another person against the virtue of chastity. 
Sins actually committed with my body and with my mind, too. And these sins 
have actually involved that part of my body known as my tits." 

Now the Father Confessor was interested; he was interested indeed. This 
sounded like hot stuff, and about time, too. Sister Anne had long been a 
disappointment to him. 

"And of my Father, I must confess that I even committed sins with my ... my 
... my pussy." 

"Tell me some details. Was this with a man?" 

"Yes, Father, in fact with a boy, too. And several men. And some Aztecs." 

"Did they do it to you in your cunt? Or elsewhere as well?" The Father was 
very interested now, so much so that his cock began to rise underneath his 
cassock and sweat formed in hot beads upon his forehead. 

"In my ass, Father, and in my mouth. And I even, even, I even sucked their 
cocks." 

"How many men were involved?" 

"Four, father. I think." Sister Anne was getting confused. "And one was a 
boy." 

"Details. I must know details," the Father insisted, as he began to rub his 
cock up and down. 

"Well...." Sister Anne hesitated, wondering what details he wanted, and how 
many, and just what he meant. 

"Tell me. Hold nothing back. Nothing." He insisted vehemently, growing 
impatient. His hard cock demanded to know even more than his horny, ever 
horny brain. Sex was really all that the Father Confessor cared about, and 
like every man in the oprhanage, he had long had his eyes upon the sexy 
Sister Anne, and had longed to get his hands upon her too. This now seemed 
to be his chance! 

"It was a boy, one of the boys here, after a baseball game and he was hurt, 
so I helped him, and he was so attractive that I ... he started to touch me, 
my breasts, my cunt, and then I was ... I couldn't help myself, his cock 
looked so good. It looked tasty and my mouth opened and I began to suck his 
cock!" As she said all of this Sister Anne felt her tits first and then her 
cunt grow warm and excited, and' she was reliving the experiences as she 
described them. She went on to tell her Father Confessor about that night, 
when young Ed showed up in her room, and they had fucked so passionately and 
with such wild abandon. And then she told her Father Confessor about her 
meeting with the Aztecs and all that happened there. 

She heard sounds coming from the partition in the confessional, hoarse, 
harsh, deep breathing, as if the Father Confessor were ill. 

"Father, are you all right?" she asked, worried. 

"Yes, yes! Go on! Tell me, what happened with the second Aztec, the one 
fucking you?" His breaths came out quickly. 

So Sister Anne told more of her exciting story, and as she told it she grew 
more excited. 

"More! More details!" 

She saw his head bobbing up and down from the screen in the partition, as 
her eyes had by this time grown quite accustomed to the darkness. 

"Yes!" he exclaimed, and his breathing grew so fast that she feared he was 
going to keel right over. Then she no longer saw him, and suddenly she was 
bathed by harsh white light which flooded the confessional in which she sat, 
light so bright that she could no longer see. Rough hands grabbed her and 
pulled her out, strong fingers tightening on her soft female arms. 

"Help!" she called out, sure that it was bandits or drug addicts who had 
broken into the orphanage. But when her vision cleared she saw it was her 
Father Confessor who was holding her. She couldn't believe it. Had her sins 
been that bad? Then she noticed that his cock was hard and was sticking out 
past his cassock, staring her brutally in the face. It was so huge and fat 
that it frightened her. Her Father Confessor himself was rather huge, a good 
six feet tall and quite heavy, a large man in every sense of the term, and 
he quite frightened her. She quivered and tried to struggle her way from 
him, but he held her much too tightly. She could not escape him, and the 
more she struggled the more his fingers twisted her arm painfully. 

"What ... what are you doing?" she cried. 

"You pervert!" he shrieked at her, with a voice that could have broken 
glass. "You devil!" 

"No! Please! Don't!" She was so scared, because his huge hand was raised and 
all his fingers were about to come down and slap her in the face. 

"You must be punished! What you have done is absolutely inexcusable. I'm 
going to whip you!" 

His hand slapped her hard in the face, stinging her fair skin and causing 
her to wince. His second blow knocked her to the floor, where she lay 
whimpering and cowering, covering her face with her hands, hot tears 
streaming down her face, the Father Confessor's immense dick bobbing around 
with every step that he took. 

"Please! No more! No more! Please!" But her tears and moans of terror 
elicited no sympathy from her Father Confessor. Years of hearing sexy 
stories without getting any action himself, due to his rather gross 
appearance but more due to his odious personality, which had no redeeming 
qualities whatsoever, had made him a mean and vindictive man who got his 
sexual thrills entirely from causing pain to those beneath him. Particularly 
he loved to torment beautiful girls with big breasts, and such a girl Sister 
Anne certainly was. But up until now she was too good; he had no excuse to 
bring his specialized skills into play. Yes! This was a moment he had longed 
for with all his heart for a long time, and now that it was here he intended 
to make the best and the most of it. He would make it last! 

"Tell me, which boy? Which boy was it that did those foul, vile things to 
your lovely, lovely body!" As he pronounced this last word, his rough mitts 
stroked her body, trying to rip her habit right off her sexy limbs. 

"Tell me who he is, so I can get him, too, and beat him until he bleeds!" 

Was this the man to whom Sister Anne had poured out her heart to these many 
years? Was this her kindly and understanding Father Confessor? How little 
she had really known him! This revelation, more than anything that had yet 
come before it, now fully convinced Sister Anne that religion, in its 
organized form at least, was bunk, and especially around this madness, this 
so-called orphanage, which was really more of a brothel, and a pretty sick 
one at that. 

Sister Anne was simply disgusted. This was no Holy Man. This was a pervert, 
a sadist, a menace to the boys and girls who were his charges at the 
orphanage. 

"I will never tell you who he is, nor will I divulge the name of ... " 

"Of who? Of who?" He almost jumped upon her with fury, as the realization 
hit him that she must be referring to another member of the orphanage. This 
she let slip without intending it, one of those Fruedian slips by which she 
divulged information to make him feel bad without even knowing her own 
motives, a kind of unconscious cruelty, egging him on to do his worst, thus 
unconscious masochism as well. 

"I will never say," she replied stoically, proud of her superior will, which 
she thought could not be broken. 

But the Father thought differently. "We'll see," then he laughed, and the 
evil sound rang out throughout the back of the Church. "Follow me," he said, 
grabbing her arm and twisting it so much that if Sister Anne had not 
immediately, painfully struggled to her feet, he undoubtedly would have 
broken it. "To the baptismal fount," he intoned. 

A shudder passed through her body. This was one section of the Church that 
was seldom used, except at Baptisms, and as none of those were scheduled for 
today, she knew that no one would find them there. Also, it was far enough 
from the main Church, and through such heavy stone walls, that no one would 
be able to hear her screams or her calls for help. 

He pushed and shoved her down the rear of the church and through a squat, 
heavy stone door. Then came a stone passageway that twisted, once, heavy 
stone all the way, and they entered the Baptismal Fount. It was a hexagonal 
room filled with statues of Saint Francis and Saint Peter and Saint Veronica 
and in the middle was the fount, crusted with gold. Many baptisms had Sister 
Anne witnessed here, her heart throbbing with joy. Now, as he hurled her to 
the cold stone floor, it throbbed with deadly fear. 

"Ha!" he laughed, a short bark which showed him to be the animal that she 
suspected. 

Going to a closet, which she had never seen before it was hidden behind a 
tapestry, he returned in a few seconds with heavy chains. 

"Convenient," was all that he said, with an evil smile, that ever-present 
smile that sent cold chills up her back to the base of her spine. 

These chains he attached to two metal hooks that were embedded in the stone 
wall. These hooks she had never noticed before, never haying had occasion to 
do so, but now she knew that she would never forget them. 

"On your feet, slut," his harsh voice commanded, reminding her of a Nazi she 
had seen in a movie once. When she did not respond quickly enough, because 
of her fear, he reached down, grabbed her, and hauled her to her feet. Then, 
throwing her against the wall so that the back of her head butted it 
painfully, he chained her wrists. 

"That hurts," she moaned stupidly, for he knew it, and that was why he was 
doing it. Just a reflex on her part, excusable because of the terror which 
she was feeling, and because she was in a state of shock. 

"You are in my power," he announced. "Cooperate and you will not be hurt ... 
too much. Refuse, and you will regret it for a long time. Maybe forever." 

Again he stuck his arms into the closet, and this time they carried out 
heavy whips and some other instruments which Sister Anne barely saw, for as 
soon as they crossed her visual field tears of fear and excitement welled up 
in her eyes and threw everything out of focus. 

"Ha!" he barked, quite pleased with her reaction. It was what he had 
expected and it gave him much pleasure. His prick jumped in the air, happy 
as a fox terrier with a new toy to chew to pieces and destroy, just as he 
hoped to destroy the will of this captive nun, Sister Anne, who had always 
been so haughty and proud. Well, he would break her now! 

She heard a peculiar whistling sound and then felt fire on her flesh. It hit 
her just below her left tit with an incredible pain. The blood began to flow 
from the cut immediately, but Sister Anne did not feel it: she was more 
aware of the tears that flowed copiously down her face. 

His prick jumped and the whip slashed out again. This time she felt it, for 
it sliced across her right nipple. Her shrieks filled up the small room and 
rang in it like a bell in a tall clock tower. They were music to the ears of 
the Father Confessor. 

"So, you will tell me none of the names?" Even his phraseology, she noticed, 
was taking on, not a German tinge, but the accent of a Hollywood actor 
impersonating a Nazi. This made her despise him even more. 

The whip sung again, many diverse notes, and slashed across her belly. 

"Aiiiieee!" 

But her cries brought no pity from the Father Confessor. "Talk and I will 
stop. Not before." 

She said nothing. The whip flew through the air in a mathematically precise 
arc. It left a trail of blood across both of the poor girl's upper thighs. 

"No! No!" 

This time the whip cut her cunt. That was real pain, pain that made all that 
had come before disappear from her mind as if it had never happened. She was 
dissolved into a ball of tears, shaking in mortal terror. 

The Father could no longer restrain himself. Slicing her cunt with his 
practiced whip really turned him on, and as he saw the red blood drip from 
her pink cunt, his prick throbbed so violently that someone watching might 
have thought it was going to fall off. With a grand smile on his face he 
approached her and, pressing her up tight against the wall, he directed his 
huge prick at her trembling, ravaged cunt. 

"Yahhh!" she screamed, as his prick grazed her cunt wound, making the blood 
flow even more than before. But the Father Confessor liked it that way. She 
kicked out violently with her legs, trying to push him away from her. To 
her, he was a monster, and while fucking him might have been better than 
more of the whip, in terms of pain, that was not the way it seemed to her 
then, for she hated him more than she had ever hated anything in her life. 

He could have chained her legs, too, there were plenty of chains. But he 
preferred not to. He liked the struggle, that way he could fight her, 
restrain her, overpower her. Such was not hard to do for a man as large and 
ferocious as he, even with a tiger of a broad like Sister Anne, whose tits 
alone were bigger than many other girls whom he had defiled in this very 
same manner and in this same room. 

He liked the girls to fight back, because they could not win. With their 
hands tied, they could kick, but as he laid his heavy body against Sister 
Anne's kicking legs, she found herself unable to move. His weight was simply 
too much for her, and he used all of his strength to force her back against 
the wall, her ass scraping painfully against the cold, rough stone, as his 
prick began to sink into her open, trembling cunt. 

"No! Ahhh!" she shrieked with pain, as her cunt was still sore from being 
whipped. 

Her cries were music to the Father Confessor's ears, they made his cock 
tingle and jump. He shoved it continually in, deeper and deeper, parting her 
cunt lips, feeling the soft squishiness inside of her. What turned him on 
the most was that she was so wet there, which meant that, despite her 
protestations, she was getting off on his torturous treatment. It fit his 
theory that all females loved to be beaten. 

And even Sister Anne could not have denied, for she was very honest, that 
she was feeling sensual delights in her cunt as it gradually filled up with 
the Father Confessor's huge rod. The pain was subtly yet surely 
transmogrified into pleasure, perhaps as a way designed by nature to 
preserve the sanity of a victim of such sexual torture and humiliation, or 
perhaps it was just chance. But in either case, once the prick was firmly 
embedded in her cunt, and the Father Confessor got to fucking away, raising 
his ass high in the air, rearing back like an animal, and then driving it 
into her as hard as he could, she was really getting off. 

She still hated him, she still fought him, but the feelings in her cunt were 
working inexorably against these impulses. He was, after all, a man, and his 
prick felt as fine as any man's prick would have felt inside her cunt, which 
had gone much too long without. 

"Ooooh! Ahhh!" These moans were of passion, as the cook rode in and out of 
her cunt, faster and faster, as the large man panted heavily, his eyes 
almost bulging out of his sockets with the strenuous effort to look at her. 

"Tits! Tits!" he shouted, as his hands cupped them and squeezed hard, too 
hard for the delicate tissue of which they were composed. He squeezed them 
so hard that they began to ache with a pain that flamed through them and 
spread down into her heart, making Sister Anne think she was going to faint. 
But, fighting back, she mustered energy enough to spit in the large man's 
bulbous face. 

The spittle dripped down his left cheek and covered that eye. He wiped it 
away with one hand, a heavy hand that had been squeezing her right tit, 
which was now free of its torture. In that way at least, her gesture had 
been efficacious. 

"You swine!" he said, then the same hand slapped her face hard. And all the 
while his prick was moving in and out of her steaming moist cunt. 

Her face turned red from the blow, and curiously enough, rather than hurting 
her, the blow got her more sexually excited, so that her hips began to 
respond to his thrusting pelvis, thrusting back in their turn, her gorgeous 
ass scraping against the wall but no longer bothering her; feeling good, in 
fact, very good, making her thrust her hips even faster and with more 
directed vigor, eager to get her cunt all the way around his hard cock, to 
get that cock all the way inside of her where it would do the most good. 

"Ahhhh!" she cried, as her hands moved spasmodically through the air. They 
wanted to grab him, whether to hold him tightly with passion or to scratch 
his eyes out neither of them could tell; but in any case her hands remained 
bound and could do no more than claw aimlessly in the dank air of the 
Baptismal Chamber. 

"You are helpless!" he shouted into her face, his words hitting her flesh 
like pebbles, like the rocks that were hurled at Jesus by the mocking crowd. 
"You cannot win! You are mine! All mine! Mine! Mine!" 

With each exclamation his dick slugged into her, burrowing its way into her 
cunt viciously, without any care for her pleasure but only for his own. 

He began to suck on her tits, and her nipples responded readily, as easy to 
stimulate orally as ever, loving to be sucked. First one nipple then the 
other. In this way the Father was really showing, although Sister Anne 
scarcely had time to realize it, his essentially infantile character, for 
the only real way he could get into anything approaching normal sexuality 
was through suckling, the earliest function of any human being. But even 
here, normality was not enough for the cruel man. Returning to her first 
nipple, his mouth closed upon it, but this time he did not suck. 

He bit. His teeth closed upon it tightly and clasped it like in a vise, 
while his molars ground away. When the Father Confessor lifted his face away 
from the girl's once magnificent chest, his mouth and nose and part of his 
lower cheek were covered with bright-red blood, and an infernal expression 
of unholy glee on his face made him look like the worst kind of minion of 
the devil. 

Sister Anne shrieked with incredible pain. 

How could any man be such a fiend? And with his prick still fucking her 
cunt, too! Impossible, yet true! It was almost as though he had been trying 
to bite it off. 

She moved her hands spasmodically, vainly endeavoring to free them from the 
handcuffs which held them, for she wanted to use her hands to bash in the 
sadist's skull. But she could do nothing. 

He closed his mouth upon her other breast, and before he could even bite 
her, her shrieks of anticipated pain were ringing out like a foghorn on a 
stormy night. 

"Yahhh!" 

But he was coldly heartless; he bit her again. The blood flowed. He lifted 
his face from her breast like a vampire from the neck of his prey. 

The pain was simply too much. As she felt the foul torturer's come shoot off 
the tip of his cock and flow into her cunt, Sister Anne passed out, leaving 
the world of pain for the world of her unconscious and its dreams, dreams 
which now had a big job, that of salving her mental anguish. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

She woke up in a cell. Her head ached, and when she turned her head she 
saw-Ed! 

"Eddie! How did you get here? What? Wha ... did I ... did I turn you in?" 

The scary thought hit her that somehow during her interrogation and torture 
she had broken down and revealed that it was young Ed whom she had sucked 
off and who had fucked her. Oh, no! How could she! She was a beast, worse 
even than her Father Confessor! A Mata Hari! An Use Koch! 

"It wasn't you," Ed quickly explained, seeing just by watching her face the 
thoughts which raced through her head just as plainly as if they had been 
written in neon on her face. "Someone saw me that night when I left your 
room. Sister Beatrice!" 

"It doesn't matter whom," said Sister Anne, ever forgiving. "Only, have they 
hurt you?" 

"Nah. I'm OK, so far. But actually, I'm scared. For you, too. We gotta get 
outta here. They're crazy you know. Especially the Rector." 

"The Rector? Does he know about...." 

"Are you kidding? He's in charge. Him and the Confessor, that big bag of 
wind, and the Mother Superior, that shit, she tortures kids, pours hot wax 
on their cocks...." 

Sister Anne's head rolled about with these bits of shocking information. 

"And Sister Beatrice, and Sister Charlotte, they make you suck their cunts 
for hour upon hour, while they sit there and watch TV, and if you stop, or 
get tired or hungry, then they give you to Brother Mark! And then you've had 
it! And what he does to the girls in the school you wouldn't believe! He 
lines them up, half a dozen at a time, and him and the Rector go down the 
line, fucking them in their cunts, sometimes even in their asses, or making 
them suck them off, or lick their assholes." 

"Stop! Stop! I can't take any more! It's driving me crazy!" Sister Anne 
slapped her hands against her ears, more as a gesture than anything else, 
for she could still hear each word which Ed enunciated. 

"Okay, but I thought you should know, because you're one of the good ones. 
Maybe you could do something to stop it. I mean, this is crazy. Sex is fine, 
but this torture, uh, uh, not for me!" 

"But what can we do? And what are they going to do to us?" Sister Anne asked 
in a small voice, scared and horrified, with the feeling that the final 
bottom had dropped out of her world, and there was nothing left beneath her, 
not even a skeleton of steel girders. "I'll answer that!" The voice was that 
of Brother Mark! 

Sister Anne started back in fright and loathing, for Ed's words had left an 
indelible impression on her mind. To her, Brother Mark now looked like a 
monster. 

"You will be punished severely for your crimes. Fucking! And without telling 
the Mother Superior! That will never do! Follow me!" he ordered and, having 
no choice, they did. 

Brother Mark lead them through a labyrinth of corridors that Sister Anne had 
never known existed, and from the dankness and darkness, broken only by a 
series of ill-working gas lights, she judged them to be in caverns beneath 
the orphanage proper. There was a creepy feeling about the whole place, the 
feeling of being in a dungeon, and as they rounded one corner, Sister Anne 
caught sight of what she was sure was a rat, scurrying away into the deeper 
dark. 

They came eventually to a heavy wooden door, upon which Brother Mark 
pounded. The sound was like a rock plummeting into a heavy pool. The door 
opened onto a horrible scene. 

The Rector, distinguished and kindly looking as ever, sat upon a kind of 
throne, and in front of him was a red plush carpet. Sitting at his feet were 
two young girls, fourteen or fifteen years old, that Sister Anne recognized 
from the orphanage. They had been in her class the year previously, and were 
called Dora and Joan. Both girls looked frightened, but completely cowed, as 
if they had been beaten into total submission. 

Couches lined one wall and upon these sat the Mother Superior, who was 
clothed only in a kind of see-through night garment that struck Sister Anne 
as being the most vulgar thing imaginable. Next to her sat the Father 
Confessor, who held a glass of some drink, alcoholic no doubt, in one hand, 
while with the other he pawed the Mother Superior's twat. 

Upon the walls hung chains, and also holders which supported whips and maces 
and other instruments of torture. There was a fire burning beneath a grate 
at one side of the large room; it looked like the grate upon which Saint 
Stephen had been martyred. Sister Anne shuddered, but the association came 
quite naturally. 

Brother Mark grabbed her by her shoulder and shoved her brutally down onto 
the floor. She lay there, totally naked, under the feet of the Rector, who 
smiled acidly. She heard a clump, and saw that Ed, too, had been shoved down 
next to her. Both of the victims looked up at the Rector, Sister Anne 
piteously, Ed with boyish tough defiance. 

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Sister Anne," the Rector said in his 
kindly, civilized voice, a voice which sounded like it was cultivated at 
Oxford. "The Father Confessor has repeated all that you told him. Aztecs! 
Really!" 

The Mother Superior laughed. Sister Anne realized that she was drunk. 

"And you, Ed," the Rector continued. "You should have known better. Sister 
Anne was naive. She didn't know how things are run around here. But you 
knew. You know that sex is forbidden unless the Mother Superior or I give 
our approval. Did we give our approval to your ... ah, siesta with Sister 
Anne?" 

Ed glared at him without saying a word. For this, he received a swift kick 
in the back of the head from Brother Mark. 

"No," he replied, the least he could say without getting another kick. 

"That is right. Well then, we have no choice. We must punish you!" With 
these words the scene came more to resemble bedlam than anything else. The 
two young girls, Ed's school chums, grabbed and dragged him across the room. 
He, too, was naked, of course, and his ass scraped mercilessly against the 
cold stone. He could easily have struggled against the two girls and 
defeated them, but Brother Mark hovered above him, a huge pole aimed at the 
boy's crotch. Ed well knew that any resistance he put up would be met 
immediately with sadistic brutality that might cripple him for life. The 
Rector was subtle in his cruelty. He knew that Ed would find it particularly 
humiliating to be dragged around by just a couple of young girls. 

Ed was chained to the wall much as Sister Anne had been before, with the 
exception that his ankles were chained as well, the Rector evidently fearing 
the boy's greater power and anger, and taking precautions. Once they had him 
tied, under command from Brother Mark, the two girls began to strip, but 
before Sister Anne could see what would happen next, she found herself 
lifted bodily into the air by Brother Mark and the Confessor and carried out 
of the room. 

Ed glared at the two girls. They were very attractive, with thin lithe 
bodies and budding young titties, but they were pawns of the hated Rector, 
allowed the Rector to control them, and so he despised them. Of course, in 
his youthful bravado, Ed was disregarding the torture which the poor, 
relatively weak girls had undergone, torture which compelled them to do 
whatever they were told. 

The Rector laughed. "Suck him," he commanded. 

Instantly, Joan dropped to her knees. Her small mouth opened wide and began 
to kiss and lick the young boy's cock. It was flaccid at first, but Brother 
Mark and the Rector had spent many tiring but highly pleasant hours teaching 
young Joan the full art of sucking a cock, and she did it so well that 
within seconds, Ed had a boner that would have done a sultan proud. 

Joan was a particularly beautiful girl, which of course was why the Rector 
had picked her to head his vice squad. With long blonde hair falling over 
her thin shoulders, and a very appealing, innocent little girlish face, 
filled with freckles that gave her a delightful air, and with just a hint of 
pubic bush above her cunt, any man would have found her a beautiful sight. 

Ed began to moan in a low tone as her mouth surrounded all of his cock and 
sucked on it hard, swallowing it right down. Her mouth was heavenly, wet and 
hard, yet soft and yielding, everything that a cock could want. Plus her 
hands continued to manipulate Ed's balls. 

While this was going on, the Rector pulled his cassock apart and called 
young Dora over to him. Dora too was a beauty, with black curly hair and a 
cute face with wide sexy lips. Her breasts were already getting pretty big, 
and had that sweet, ripe roundness which is characteristic of many young 
girls and which never fails to excite favorable comment. 

"Let me fuck you, my child," was all that the Rector had to say to have the 
sweet young thing immediately mount his lap, without the Rector even having 
to move out of his seat. She aimed her back at him, sitting on his lap, and 
got her twat right over his cock. Then she lowered herself onto it. 

The Rector gasped with the intensity of the pleasure which his prick felt as 
it rammed its way into her cunt. It was a small cunt, as she was a small 
girl, therefore tight. Plus, he had done nothing to excite her, so it was 
still relatively dry and hard, not really ready for any cock, let alone one 
the size of the Rectors, which was both long and thick, with bulging veins 
which demonstrated the intensity of his sexual drives. 

"Oh, that's good, Dora," the Rector said, as she managed to get her cunt 
halfway onto his cock, where she ground it around and around, hoping in this 
way to flame the fuels of lust within her. 

The Rector reached forward with his elaborately manicured hands and touched 
the girl's budding young chest, feeling her nipples stiffen under the 
promptings of his fingers. 

Dora grunted as she tried to shove her cunt down all the way onto his huge 
cock, but her cunt was so small that it rather hurt her to do so. 

"Go on," he urged her. "Go on down," as he shoved up with his pelvis, his 
cock quivering with the rampant desire to get all of the way into the young 
girl's tasty cunt. The Rector was getting really excited not only by fucking 
her cunt and fondling her delicate breasts, but also by the sight of young 
Joan who was so busily sucking Ed's cock, so that the slurping sounds coming 
from her mouth could be heard loud and clear all the way across the room. 

So Dora braced herself and pushed herself down. With a loud, "Auuugh," she 
felt the cock get right into her, felt it touch bottom. It hurt at first, 
but as he pumped it in and out of her, and as she, getting used to his 
rhythm and to the feel of the monstrous tool inside her, began to move in 
turn, the pain turned to a degree of pleasure, and she really began to get 
into it and to take as much pleasure from the act as she could. 

The Rector, for his part, was experiencing nothing but bliss. Her cunt was a 
tight fit, like a glove, just the way he liked it. He plunged his rod into 
her, driving it up with increasing force, feeling all of her cunt ooze and 
shift around his moving cock, his fingers playing odd tunes across her 
moving tits, which veritably seemed to grow and develop even as he touched 
them. 

Ed grunted in a sudden spasm of pleasure as the come raced up the length of 
his cock and shot out of its tip, right into Dora's open and anxious mouth. 
Much as Ed hated the Rector and this system of enforced sexuality, there was 
no way his physiological response could fail when a young girl was sucking 
him off, so what had to happen happened: he came, screaming in passionate 
fulfillment. Her mouth just felt so good, as its soft lips milked out every 
drop of come from his stem, that he could do nothing else but go with the 
flow. 

This gave the Rector a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, to see his 
young students so enjoy themselves. But then he remembered how bad Ed had 
been, how disobedient, and the Rector's face grew harsh and stern. 

Brother Mark," he called. But Brother Mark did not answer. 

"Brother Mark...." 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Brother Mark was next door, in a kind of anteroom. He and the Father 
Confessor were having their way with Sister Anne. 

"Damn, but I love to fuck underarms!" Brother Mark exclaimed merrily. 

"No lie," replied the Confessor. 

Anyone walking into the room at that moment would have witnessed Sister 
Anne, naked, tied down on a soft bed, her hands tied at about a thirty 
degree angle from her body, her legs spread much wider at a good forty-five 
degrees, then roped down with cord. But what was strangest was that Brother 
Mark and the Confessor, equally naked, were hunched above her on the bed, 
each with his prick buried in a different underarm, fucking her there. 

"I thought you were kidding when you first suggested this," said Brother 
Mark to his male companion, "but this is great. Sensations that can be 
produced in no other way. 

Sister Anne thought they were both crazy, grown men fucking a woman's 
underarms. It felt strange to her, the two men hunched up by her head, their 
long dicks running furiously against her tender skin. It felt weird. It 
almost felt good. But she despised them both so much that she had trouble in 
separating the physical sensations of their warm pricks against her skin, 
from their personalities, which were so hideous and cruel. 

"Oh! I'm going to come!" the Father Confessor confessed, and within seconds, 
his hot sperm shot out all over her underarms, and her arms, and her belly, 
white streams of globby fluid. 

He relaxed, getting off her. 

"Suck this," Brother Mark said, taking his cock from her underarm and 
shoving it at her mouth. 

She tried to refuse. She closed her lips tight, but Brother Mark would not 
stand for that. His hand descended brutally and slapped her across the face. 

"Ooooh," she cried, tears of pain welling up in her eyes. 

"Suck it," he commanded, and this time she obeyed, for fear of his terror. 

Her mouth swallowed it down and she almost gagged, because he got on top of 
her and started to fuck her in the mouth although her mouth was actually a 
cunt, and this made her gag and made it hard to breathe. But Brother Mark 
didn't care about that. His prick felt such delightful sensations as he 
shoved it rapidly in and out of the beautiful fleshy woman's wide open, 
moist mouth, that he didn't care about anything else in the world, least of 
all for whatever Sister Anne felt. He thought she was a haughty bitch and 
didn't like her too much, but he liked her mouth all right. That he liked 
just fine! 

She felt fingers on her cunt, playing with her there. They belonged to the 
Confessor, and he was manipulating her in the hope not so much of 
stimulating her, but of stimulating himself. And, evidently that was working 
for, a few minutes later, when she heard him say, "Stroke it," and he placed 
his prick in one of her hands which, although tied down, was able to move 
its fingers, she found that his cock was already half hard. He moved it back 
and forth in her hand while her fingers nimbly caressed it. All the while 
Brother Mark's immense cruel cock kept on plunging down between her lips, 
driving her crazy with annoyance and almost reaching and putting out her 
tonsils. 

"Damn, but those tits are fine," the Confessor exclaimed, entranced by her 
globular mammaries, which wobbled about so provocatively as her whole body 
shifted, due to the motion which Brother Mark's cock sent shooting into her 
open mouth. 

"Damn, if I'm not going to fuck her right there between those jugs! Move 
over there, Brother, and let your Father in!" he called out drunkenly. 

"Uhhhh!" breathed Brother Mark deeply,-his orgasm approaching, not even 
hearing what the Father was saying to him. 

"Uhhh! Uhhh! Uhhh!" 

"Move over, I say, and let a real man through!" 

With this, the Father Confessor tried shoving Brother Mark aside. That 
turned out to be a big mistake, for this was just at the moment when Brother 
Mark's orgasm was first hitting him, an orgasm which the Brother had built 
up too carefully, and expected to enjoy. He wanted, more than anything, to 
shoot his full load straight down Sister Anne's throat. Really down there: 
he didn't want it to go over her teeth or her gums, and then come rolling 
out past her lips and down onto her chin. He wanted it down there, in her 
gullet, way way down. 

So when the Father Confessor pushed him, what happened instead was that his 
long prick was suddenly, precipitously dislodged from its long sought for, 
highly enjoyable location deep inside the girl's mouth. As soon as the cock 
plopped out, she of course closed her mouth, extremely relieved to have that 
vile, dangerous pole out of of it. She just knew that if he did manage to 
shoot his full load into her mouth that she would choke and gag and retch 
and feel just awful. 

The come shot out of the tip of Brother Mark's cock, but instead of going 
where he desired it to go, it shot into the air, landing on the girl's face, 
on her eyes, her hair, her breasts, her belly. Some of it even landed on the 
Father Confessor. Everywhere, in short, except where Brother Mark had 
intended it to go. 

Brother Mark took his intentions seriously, and this made him mad, so mad 
that he lost his head. He was, of course, drunk, as were all of the 
participants, the willing participants at least, in this orgy. So his temper 
flew quickly, and he directed it at the cause of his failure, his superior, 
the Father Confessor. Little he cared at that moment about who was superior 
to whom! 

His hands flew out and caught the Father across his face, knocking him to 
the ground. The Father cursed vilely. 

"Fuck!" 

But that bit of violence scarcely satisfied wild Brother Mark. Like a tiger 
after his prey, he leaped from the bed on top of his fallen foe and began 
pummeling him with his fists. 

Seeing this, Sister Anne was overcome with real fear as she figured that 
Brother Mark had absolutely lost his mind and might turn on her with the 
same flying fists within moments, and her tied down and helpless. 
Fortunately, as the Father had fucked her hand, the motion of his body 
against the ropes had loosened them, enabling her to easily slip one hand 
out free. With this free hand she quickly untied herself, unseen by the two 
men, who rolled about on the floor like two professional wrestlers, the kind 
who wear masks and have weird names and who jump on each other from the 
ropes, only these two were doing it all seriously, pounding fists into each 
other's faces, laying on top of each other, gouging into each other's eyes 
with long fingers. 

Where to go? Certainly not through the door in which she had come, for that 
lead to the room in which the Rector held his foul court. There was another 
door at the end of the room, the other end from which she had come in, and 
as this was the only other door, Sister Anne found her choice had been made 
for her. So as the Father, blinded evidently in both eyes, was slamming his 
feet into the prostrate Brother Mark's naked groin, Sister Anne slipped out. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

With Brother Mark unavailable, the Rector had to take care of punishing Ed 
with the help of Sister Beatrice, who had joined them, and the Mother 
Superior. And as the Rector was still busily engaged in fucking delightful 
little Joan, he called for the help of the Mother Superior. 

"You enjoy the use of that prick of yours, do you, young man? You like it?" 
the Mother Superior sneered at him. 

Ed looked at her without saying a word, hatred in his eyes. He knew that 
nothing he could say or do could avert the punishment coming his way, so he 
didn't want to lower himself to dealing with these sadists. 

"Answer me!" she shouted, her voice jumping a screeching octave. 

He remained silent. Sister Beatrice, dressed in leather pants and a leather 
jacket that was open to reveal her bosom and her belly button, came over and 
began to stroke the boy's cock. 

"Of course he wants to keep it," she said. "See what a nice one it is, how 
strong. And see how big it's getting, and so soon after!" 

Ed could not prevent the physiological response from taking place, his dick 
was indeed getting bigger under Sister Beatrice's gentle, but ultimately 
evil inclined touch. 

She began to pull it, gently at first, but Ed was afraid, and then harder, 
and his fears were realized. Sister Beatrice's long, slim fingers held onto 
his cock tightly, and she was pulling it hard, as if she was going to take 
it home with her for use at a more convenient opportunity. 

Ed could no longer remain silent. The excruciating pain would not let him. 

"No! No! Help! Oh! Please stop! Help!" 

Sister Beatrice let go of his prick, and it sprang back to his body like a 
rubber band, and then fell limp, out of fear and pain. 

"I'll let you keep that prick for a while," she said, laughing merrily. 
"Meanwhile, I'll let you see how we punish other boys who have been bad." 

As she said this, the door opened, and Tony suddenly flew in, as if pushed 
from behind by an unseen hand. He fell face down on the red carpet in front 
of the Rector, who had just finished shooting his load into the cunt of 
young Dora. The Rector pushed Dora away from him, and she slid down his legs 
rather unceremoniously falling on her ass on the carpet, the come still 
oozing from between her thighs. 

The door slammed behind Tony, and it sounded like the gate of Hell. 

"Tony has been bad," Beatrice explained to Ed in a loud voice, "but not as 
bad as you. Remember that as you witness his punishment, for it will be 
nothing compared to yours." 

For the next hour Ed was forced to watch as numerous indignities were 
practiced upon Tony's young body. Tony was not a particular friend of Ed's, 
but they were classmates and played ball together, and Ed hated to see the 
poor boy suffer so much. He also hated to think of what they had in store 
for him. And if these were not worries enough, he also had the recurring 
question of what horrors were being perpetrated upon the poor body of lovely 
Sister Anne. 

Beatrice strapped a dildo onto her leather pants, opening them at the crotch 
and attaching the dildo right there, so that one end of it shoved its way 
into her cunt and against her clit, whenever she shoved the other end of it 
anywhere. This end she shoved into Tony's ass. The boy was stretched over a 
kind of cushioned rack, and held down by ropes, as Dora and Joan played with 
his cock and balls. Then Beatrice got up behind him, and after Dora greased 
the boy's ass, Beatrice began to shove the horrendous dildo right on up 
there, a place which was still quite virginal, and unused to the intrusion 
of large objects. 

The sweat broke upon Tony's brow as pain contracted his whole body, and he 
began to tremble and feel that he was being split open. Blood flowed from 
his asshole as the dildo tore skin and pushed ruthlessly inside. 

"This is delightful! Just delightful!" the Rector announced to anyone who 
cared to listen. Ed's stomach turned. 

"No! Ahh!" Tony cried out, in torture. 

But his pitiful cries only spurred Beatrice on all the more. It really 
turned her on to take the masculine role in a sexual scene, particularly 
when the sexual roles were reversed so that she was fucking a young boy, who 
had a prick, it was true, but also had smooth skin, like a girl, and as Tony 
was a blonde, his skin was quite smooth, and quite pale. 

Even Dora and Joan, who had gotten used to all sorts of scenes of torture, 
were shivering with fright, and were full of pity for Tony, for as they sat 
at his feet and continually manipulated his cock, so that it remained at a 
constant state of intense excitement and engorgement, they could not fail to 
notice the look of horrible pain on his face. Still, they had their job to 
do, and they knew that if they failed to keep his prick standing tall as a 
church spire, then Tony's pain would be as nothing to that which the Rector 
would make them feel. 

So they kept stroking his cock with their long, supple fingers, while the 
other played with his balls, and occasionally either Dora or Joan would suck 
his cock a little. But whenever it appeared that he might shoot his load of 
come, then they slapped his cock hard and suddenly with their open palms, so 
hurting him that the cock immediately got small and limp, and there was no 
danger of his coming. Then they started exciting his cock all over again, an 
endless round of provocation without gratification. 

Meanwhile, the Mother Superior was kissing the Rector's ass. As he had 
finally gotten up energy enough to rise from his throne, he decided that 
there was no point in wasting it but, calling the Mother Superior to him, he 
leaned over, resting his elbows on the throne, while the Mother Superior 
went to work. It always gave her an intense inner feeling of satisfaction to 
suck or kiss the Rector's fat behind, for he was such a powerful presence, 
and one of the great men in her life, someone that she had really learned a 
lot about life from. So, as she sucked his ass and let her tongue delve 
deeply into his smelly asshole, she played with her own clitoris, reaching a 
feverish peak of excitement in very few minutes. 

This position of leaning on the throne of course prevented the Rector from 
feasting his eyes on Tony's tortures, but as he had witnessed many such 
tortures, he knew that when he rejoined the action it would not be hard for 
him to follow the plot. 

"Let him come! Let him come!" moaned Sister Beatrice, as she felt she 
herself was about to experience that ultimate release. The dildo had done 
its fine work in exciting her clit, and her whole body tingled with thrills. 

Dora sucked the boy's cock as hard as she could, feeling it move about all 
over inside her warm mouth, feeling it get ready. Dora was quite practiced 
at this, at filling the will of Sister Beatrice, so just as Sister Beatrice 
shouted in passion and began to shake her body in the throes of passion, her 
two globes on her chest bouncing out past the leather jacket, nipples taut, 
her eyes wild, just then, young Tony too began to shoot his load, and it was 
an extra feeling of pleasure to Sister Beatrice to perceive the boy's body 
shaking with orgasm. 

"Yesssssss!" she hissed, a long cry of pleasure. 

With a deeply felt grunt, the Rector too began to shoot his load, for he had 
been pulling on his own cock while enjoying the exquisite feel of the Mother 
Superior's tongue dabbling into his ass. The come shot out and got all over 
the throne, while he jerked his hips with pleasure. 

Instantly Joan was there, a moist rag in her hands, wiping the come off the 
plush velvet of the throne so that it would not leave any stains. 

"So!" said Sister Beatrice in a harsh voice. "You have come!" Her eyes 
stared with disdain at the boy's still quivering post orgasmic cock. His 
face was pale white from pain. 

"Tie him!" shouted the Rector. 

Dora and Joan carried this out instantly, and he was tied facing the wall. 

The Rector was now full of energy, and as he took down one of the long whips 
from the wall, he turned to Sister Beatrice and said, "Fetch the hot coals 
from the incense!" She instantly left through the door. 

As the Rector's muscles tensed in preparation for swinging the whip, 
everybody who was not tied up immediately spread out, hugging the walls, for 
it was a long whip and they knew that the Rector was no expert at it, unlike 
the Father Confessor, who could hit a match at fifty paces. 

He swung the whip in the air and it slapped brutally against Tony's back. 
The boy howled in pain. The Rector chuckled, highly pleased with his 
accuracy. 

"Not bad, hey?" he questioned the room in general. 

This time he faced Ed, and when the whip swung it slapped across the boy's 
stomach, leaving a bleeding red trail. Ed tried to hold in his scream, but 
the pain was too abrupt, and he howled like Tony. 

Wild with pleasure now, the Rector alternated, hitting Tony and then Ed, 
missing sometimes and slapping the wall, chipping stone from it with the 
force of his blows, but lashing into their skin often enough to leave welts 
all over. 

Both boys were crying from the intense pain, which was more than any grown 
man could have born, and were almost passed out. But the Rector took 
occasional rests, during which time Dora and Joan were forced to play with 
the boy's cocks and suck them until they stood high in the air, at which 
point the Rector returned to whipping them. 

The other door opened and Brother Mark stumbled into the room, his face all 
bloody, looking a wreck. 

"She's escaped!" he announced. "We've been looking for her, but can't find 
her. The Father is still doing that, but I think she's gone!" 

"Nonsense!" the Rector shouted, too excited by his whipping the boys to pay 
much attention to Brother Mark's fears. "She's quite stupid and will never 
be able to find her way out of the labyrinth!" 

Laughing wildly, the Rector lashed out and sent the whip flying across 
Brother Mark's face, which was tight where he aimed it. Delighted with his 
newly found, or perhaps, chance, prowess with the whip, the Rector laughed 
uproariously, but Brother Mark was furious. 

"Hey! Cut that out!" he said, mad. 

"You deserve far worse than that for letting Sister Anne escape," said the 
Mother Superior in the severe tone of voice which made many nuns quail. 

"Ha ha! Ha ha!" laughed the Rector, as Tony passed out from too much pain. 

The whip sung its song through the air and Ed felt it slap against his 
thighs, leaving a welt that he could no longer feel, for all of his nerve 
cells were numb, having short-circuited out from having to carry too many 
messages of pain. But he was still conscious, glaring at the Rector 
balefully and vowing vengeance. 

The Mother Superior and Brother Mark had apparently made up, for when the 
Rector looked around he saw them locked in a feverish embrace of the 69 
position, as each devoured the genitals of the other, accompanied by hoarse 
slurping noises and high pitched cries of passion. 

"Very good!" the rector called out. But his whip arm was getting tired. 
"Where are those coals?" he asked of no one in particular. 

Dora looked at Joan with fear in her eyes. "This is getting serious," Dora 
whispered. "What do you think they're going to do with the coals?" 

"I don't know. I hate to think," Joan answered. 

"Maybe we should do something, stop him or something." 

"How?" Tears streamed down Joan's face, tears of helpless rage. "He'll kill 
us, and torture us first in ways that are even worse." 

"What are you girls whispering about? You have work to do. Wake those boys 
up. Throw buckets of cold water in their faces." the Rector commanded, 
knowing that they would obey, for they were cowed by terror. 

The girls fetched the buckets from the faucet and hurled them at Tony and 
Ed. The boys stared out sullenly. 

"Go ahead," said the Rector, "suck them!" 

The girls again bent to their duty, their sweet young mouths exciting the 
cocks of the poor boys. Tortured though they were, their pricks still 
responded as they were meant to do, a triumph of God's design for humanity. 

"Good!" cried the Rector. "Very very good! Excellent!" His prick too was 
jumping excitedly in the air. The Mother Superior and Brother Mark both came 
in an orgy of pants and moans, and then they straightened up. 

It was just at this moment that Sister Beatrice entered the room. 

"Here are the hot coals," she announced. 

"Good!" said the Rector, rubbing his hands together. "Pour them on their 
cocks!" 

"No!" shouted Tony, as the thought of his cock sizzling to a frazzle, like a 
burnt steak, managed to make its way into his pain-fogged brain. 

Dora shrieked. This was too much for her. Like a maniac she leaped upon the 
Rector, her fingernails coming out like claws to rake ruthlessly across the 
skin of his face. Blood poured out from the marks of her fingernails, and 
the Rector vainly tried to beat her away, but he could not, she was young 
and furious. 

Taking her cue from her friend, Joan leaped upon Sister Beatrice, tackling 
her like a football player and throwing her to the ground. The hot coals 
went bouncing across the floor and hit Brother Mark's feet. 

He howled in such pain that he was unable to intervene and save the Rector 
and Sister Beatrice from the attacks of these two formerly cowed girls, who 
had reached their limit of co operation. 

Joan was mad, and she beat Sister Beatrice in the head with her small fists, 
that still packed a wallop because they were so motivated by righteous 
indignation. 

But the Mother Superior grabbed her and hauled her off, hurling the girl's 
small body across the room. But Joan rose up, still fighting, and 
approached, slamming her fists into the Mother Superior's bosom, knocking 
her wind out. 

Sister Beatrice grabbed her from behind, holding her tightly but Joan, 
undaunted, kicked out with her feet, raining blows into the Mother 
Superior's head, as the poor woman had collapsed into her knees. 

Dora was biting the Rector, chewing on his neck, while her fists kept 
punching him in the chest and in the nose, and her knees came down brutally 
in his groin, causing him great pain. Brother Mark, surmounting the pain of 
his red burning toes, grabbed her from behind and hauled away. By this time, 
too, Joan had been subdued by the Mother Superior and Sister Beatrice 
working together. Mad, they carried the girls across the room and tied them 
up. 

The Rector was absolutely furious, his face red and pulsating. "You will 
suffer now! You will suffer! And you will die! But not before you suffer! 
These hairs!" he said, fingering Joan's pubic hair, which was only starting 
to grow in, "Each of these hairs will be pulled out! What pain that will 
cause you! And these tits!" he said, grabbing them in his hands, "They shall 
be cut off! Ha, ha, ha!" 

Brother Mark stuck his finger into Dora's cunt and moved it around 
violently. "Hot pokers will go in here," he sneered at her. 

Just then the door opened and Sister Anne raced in. "There they are, 
officers," she shouted, full of excitement, hoping that she had not gotten 
there too late. 

"Jesus, Charlie, do you believe this?" 

"Damn, Fred, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't of seen it!" 

The two police officers rushed in, holding their nightsticks. The Rector and 
Brother Mark tried to flee out the back door, but a truncheon came down 
across the Rector's head, knocking him to the floor. Blood began to ooze 
from his skull. The horrible sight of the bloodied bodies of these chilren 
had taken away any tenderness or mercy that Officers Fred Toner or Charlie 
Blumler might ever have possessed. They were like avenging angels. 

When Brother Mark saw the Rector get what was coming to him, he knelt on the 
ground, as if in prayer, and prepared to beg for mercy. But before he could 
open his mouth, a truncheon caught him in the face, and blood poured in 
gushers from his mouth, accompanied by numerous white teeth. He fell into a 
pool of his own blood. 

Charlie chained up the Mother Superior and Sister Beatrice, and they moaned 
as the chains tightened around their flesh. 

"When we're done with you, you'll be locked up for the rest of your lives!" 
Charlie said to them. 

Meanwhile, Sister Anne loosened the chains which held the boys and girls 
chained. She went to the faucets and began to wash their wounds. There would 
be much work to do to fix them up, not just physically, but mentally and 
spiritually, but Sister Anne felt equal to the challenge. She had learned 
much of what could happen to people who tried to repress their sexual 
energies, how those energies could then come out in unspeakable cruelties. 
But the church had also taught her mercy, and to care for people, and to 
teach, and these skills would stand her in good stead now. She was a woman 
with a mission now, to save children from the cruel excesses of sadism and 
to return them to the normal world. 


THE END
