MSL-13 Abducted By The Monks


FOREWORD

I begged the priest to let me have some clothes, for I was still quite young and I was not 
used to being naked like that.

But the only reply that I received was a low and unpleasant chuckle that came from the 
dark recesses of the massive man's hood.

Then he reached forward and touched my pussy lips. I tried to step away, but there was 
another hooded man behind me and he grabbed me tightly under my arms.

A third man pulled my hands up above my head and then I heard the low clank of metal 
chains. I was soon swinging by my arms and I felt as if my arms were going to be pulled right 
out of my shoulders as the three men rubbed their hands all over my body.

My legs were spread wide and one of the priests pressed his cock head against my pussy 
lips. I held my breath in hot anticipation of what they were going to do to my virgin cunt.

And then I felt another of the priests spreading apart the tight knot of my ass hole. As the 
first cock head was beginning to slip into my cunt and press against the maidenhead that was 
only a temporary guard to my virginity, I could already feel another cock head ramming at the
delicate opening of my ass hole.


CHAPTER ONE

Do I dare to begin this journal?

My name was Therese Bourgogne. And even in these first two sentences I have committed
sin.

I have sinned because I have put my own thoughts down on paper, when I know that the 
Sisters of Charity are only taught to read and write so that they may service the priests.

And I have sinned because I have made reference to the name that I once knew.

When I renounced my name and became Sister Felicity in the holy order of the Sisters of 
Charity, I swore an oath that I would leave behind all memory of the outside world.

But, you must understand that at the time that I did that I had not been given a choice in 
the matter.

Unlike many of the nuns who had dreamed through their youthful years of devoting their 
lives to their lord and to the priests I did not make that choice. I did not have an opportunity 
to sit at the dinner table and to tell my mother that I wanted to go into a convent.

May the lord keep her, from the time that the priests took me away, I have not seen my 
mother and I often wonder if she even knows what has become of me!

They told me that they had informed my mother that I had been accused of crimes against
the church and that the church was taking me into custody and I assume that that was just 
what they did tell her.

But, here I have been wandering from the real substance of my story.

Perhaps the only reason that I dare to tell you this story is that some of you will not even 
believe that it is true.

I know that most of you have great respect for the glorious institutions of the church, for 
there was a time when I shared that respect. There was a time when I believed that a bishop 
was as pure and as good as the lord himself.

It would not be in my nature to destroy these illusions that you have. Therefore, it is 
enough for you to know that this story is true. If you find that it is too amazing for you to 
believe, then so be it.

But I prophesy too much. Perhaps this manuscript will never reach the light of day. Perhaps
no caring eyes will ever see it.

And, most dreaded to me, perhaps the prioress will find it. If she does then I shall truly 
suffer a terrible punishment.

But, since I am alone in my cell and there is a little more tallow that I may permit to bum 
before any of the others get suspicious, let me begin my story.

And I dare to begin at the time when I was still a happy girl named Therese.

Before you accuse me of dishonesty I must tell you that there was a time in my life when I 
did so wish to become a nun. However, all good little girls in France wish to be nuns at one 
time or another.

If most of them did not outgrow that wish then France would certainly not be the great 
nation that it is.

By the time that I was thirteen I had already outgrown that wish. For I knew that nuns 
never married and that they never had a chance for sex, and I had grown very interested in 
boys at that time.

Of course, my notions about nuns and sex have since changed. Now that I see just what 
sort of charity the Sisters of Charity are expected to perform I realize that what people believe 
about the church and what really occurs behind the walls of the convents are two separate 
things.

But then I was only thirteen and the dark grey walls seemed far away.

I was at the curious age where I wanted to find out about everything and where I wanted 
to know about everything.

Of course since I had grown up on a farm I knew all about sex and the parts of the body. 
But seeing the penis of a horse or a bull was not the same thing as seeing the penis of a boy.

You wonder, perhaps, about the fact that I told you that I was a good girl. But I truly 
believe that I was.

When I first came among the nuns they had me convinced that my sexual interests and 
desires were not natural and not in line with what my lord would wish. But now after all of the 
time that I have spent here and after all of the experiences that I have been through, I am 
convinced that my desires and interests were not evil and wicked.

I know that this is a radical thought and that if it were ever found within the walls of the 
Sisters of Charity I would feel the burning lash of the prioress.

Then again, if this notion were spoken in Spain at this time, I am sure that I would be 
burned at the stake as a witch.

For now I must satisfy myself with confiding it to this little journal.

Anyway, when I was thirteen, there was a boy who lived on the next farm. His name was 
Henri and he was very handsome.

Henri was fourteen and he was just a little taller than I. He had straight brown hair that fell 
down across his eyes and he had a shy grin with a bunch of freckles across his face.

I would sometimes watch this boy when he would go along on his father's cart and pass 
by our farm. He had been growing very quickly over the previous year and he always seemed 
to be growing out of his clothes.

How could I ignore the way that his youthful legs filled out the pants that he wore. And 
how could I ignore the way that his young chest was expanding so that he had to leave the 
top buttons open on his shirt.

I was almost willing to swear that I could see some hair on his chest when he stopped to 
speak to me.

And then I would blush, as a thirteen-year-old girl is prone to do each time that I would 
speak to him.

After all, I could not help but look down at the front of his pants. That fourteen-year-old 
boy always seemed to have a huge bulge in the front of his pants and when he spoke to me 
he would always reach into his pocket and fiddle around with the firmness that was there.

To be perfectly honest I would often find myself putting my own hand down in the lower 
part of my body.

There were times when I would go to sleep at night and I would feel a strange sensation 
down at my pussy lips. At that time there was no hair at all on the delicate pink lips. But I was 
just on the verge of discovering that they had uses other than the simple body functions that I
had learned as an infant.

On these certain nights when I would get hazy and strange thoughts I would find myself 
reaching down to my cunt lips.

Since I shared a room with my two sisters, I had to be very quiet and careful about what I 
did. I made movements under the blankets without really making movements.

I would reach down and pull up my white nightshirt until it was all the way up to my hips. 
Then I would touch my fingers against the lips of my pussy and I would feel the heat that was 
running through my body.

Sometimes when I would put my fingers up against the wrinkled flesh of the lips I would 
feel a little bit of moisture that had already seeped out of my cunt.

A few times I took my finger and made it moist in this liquid and then brought it up to my 
lips so that I could lick the moisture off with my tongue.

On those occasions I always found that my pussy juice was very sweet and it tasted even 
more delightful and fresh than the fresh water that was in the stream at the north end of our 
farm, the stream that also ran through the farm of Henri's father.

Then I would spread apart the pink lips that were guarding my pussy and I would put my 
index finger just inside of the lips. Do not think when I say that that I mean that I got my 
whole finger up into my slit. Usually I would just begin with the first joint of my finger. As I 
would progress and get more excited I would sometimes manage to get two joints up into my
cunt.

As soon as I would get my index finger between the cunt lips, I would let go of the 
delicately soft pussy flesh and I would feel it snap back around my finger.

It was as if my finger were trapped in between the tightly clinging pussy lips.

But I knew that all my pussy needed was a little more excitement. I would start off small 
and frig my pussy a little at a time. Just moving my finger forward a slight bit and backward a 
slight bit.

That was always delightful. That little tiny bit of movement was equal to rubbing a strong 
hand all over my body. Because when my finger was pressed against the delicate and moist 
flesh inside of my vagina, I could feel the waves of pleasure emanating all through my body.

It was like that one tiny action was magnified because of the sensitivity of my pussy!

As I would continue with that little bit of movement up my cunt, I would feel a movement 
in response from my pussy flesh. The soft and spongy flesh in my body would begin to 
wriggle and writhe.

Then it would be easier for me to move my finger in and out of the hot hole. My finger 
would be covered with moisture and then I would search for that one spot in my pussy that 
was so sensitive.

When I would find that one spot I would feel a tingling all over my body and I would clasp 
my legs together as if my finger were a penis that I wanted to keep inside of my body.

That would be the time when I would manage to get the first two joints of my finger up 
into my hot pussy.

I would be frigging in and out so hot and so fast that I imagined that this was what fucking
felt like. But I was so excited over the feeling of my one little finger in my pussy that I 
imagined that having a big cock in my pussy would be heavenly.

Do I dare to confide in this journal, even in this journal, that to this day I still harbor the 
notion that being fucked can be a pleasant experience. In the times that I have been fucked, in
the times that I have serviced the priests and others, I have had some momentary twinges of 
pleasure, and yet the people of the church, those with whom I have had contact, seem 
determined to make fucking an unpleasant thing for me.

If they ever suspected that I enjoyed fucking my punishments would be even worse than 
they are.

Actually, even when I was that young I was aware of the church. After all, what peasant 
farm family in France is not aware of the church?

And there was a time when I became very upset over the fact that I had been playing with 
my pussy lips. I realized that this pleasurable thing that I had been doing was a sin and I 
decided that I would stop doing it.

I do not know where saints managed to find their strength, because I never found mine!

There were nights that I would go to bed and I would feel that strange combination of 
tickling and itching deep in the back of my cunt. I would feel that I wanted to frig my pussy.

But I would swear that I would not do it!

I would reach down to my cunt lips and decide that if I gave one little touch in that area it 
would ease the tension. But of course it did not ease the tension.

Then I would roll around on my bed.

All this time I would keep swearing that I would not frig myself and I would get sweaty 
between my white young thighs. My bedclothes and my blankets would be sticking to me.

And it would always end up one of two ways.

Either I would end up frigging myself after lying awake and uncomfortable for all of that 
time, or else I would finally get to sleep but wake up some time later with a terrible dream 
about sex.

When I would wake up after one of these dreams, or nightmares, I would reach down to 
my pussy lips and I could feel the juice there. Apparently I managed to juice up my pussy in 
my sleep.

By the time that I was thirteen and I went through the ugly experience that was to change 
my life, I had been through a whole spectrum of sexual inactivity.

I had never even spoken of any of these things and I just assumed that none of these 
things were meant to be pronounced. But in the back of my mind there had been great 
debates that had gone on.

My feelings had been bandied about. One day I was decidedly in favor of purity and that 
same night I was busily frigging my pussy and imagining all sorts of fantasies.

I see from the things that I have already put into this journal that I have written enough to 
sentence myself to a cruel fate, so I might just as well take the next step.

Yes! At the time that I was thirteen I was having fantasies about sex. Of course these 
fantasies were all based on very vague notions and so I didn't know just what it was that I was 
dreaming of.

But I would see Henri with that big bulge in his pants, the bulge which I knew to be his 
cock. I would try to imagine what the boy would look like completely naked.

His powerful thighs and his muscular ass that filled out his trousers so very well. And his 
strong young shoulders that seemed to ripple through his shirt.

Then I would imagine what it would feel like to feel his cock shoving into my pussy.

I would shut my eyes and I would try to put two of my fingers up into my hole of love and 
then I would feel the tightness that the lips possessed.

At that time I could not imagine how I would ever be able to get a cock up my pussy, since
I could not even get a second finger up into myself!

But I was thirteen and I was curious, so I decided that it was time for me to find out about 
sex and the things of the world.

There was one day when I was bathing in the stream that ran on the north side of our 
farm. Since the farm of Henri's father was next to our own farm, it was not uncommon for the 
boy to be nearby.

But I was most surprised when I heard a commotion in the woods and then I saw Henri 
rush out of the brush, chasing a goat.

I moved quickly to the deeper part of the stream so that I could remain properly modest. 
When the boy realized that I was there and that I was completely naked in the water he forgot
about the goat.

"Henri Boucharde, you get away from here!"

"Not until you get out of the water!" the boy taunted, brushing his straight brown hair up 
out of his eyes.

"I shall freeze to death before I would do that!" In truth the fire that was burning in my 
pussy at the nearness of the boy was enough to keep me from freezing.

He actually sat down on a rock and he put one of his hands in one of his trouser pockets 
as he spoke to me. "You are so beautiful that I would give anything to look at your naked 
body!"

That kind of talk left me so shocked that I could not even reply. I just stood there in the 
water of the stream. My long blonde hair was hanging down and I had my hand up by my 
young breasts.

Since I didn't reply to him, he spoke again and said, "What would you ask of me in 
exchange for one look at your naked body!" I could see that the bulge in the front of Henri's 
pants was enormous.

At that point I could not resist saying the thing that was on my mind, even though I know 
that almost everyone would consider it a very wicked thing for a thirteen-year-old girl to say.

"I would like to see your naked body in exchange for letting you see mine."

Now it was the boy who was speechless. Since I was already naked in the water and it was 
just a simple matter for me to get out of the water and reveal myself, he started to unbutton 
his shirt.

Just at that moment he stopped. We both heard something. It was his mother calling him 
through the woods.

"Henri, where are you? Where is that goat?" she was crying out. I did not know at that 
point whether she was referring to the nanny goat that the boy had been chasing or whether 
she had been calling her son a goat. I laughed a little.

The boy looked very troubled as he buttoned his shirt once more. Then he looked at me 
and he said, "Soon! Very soon!"

As he disappeared into the woods to continue looking for his runaway goat, I felt a thrill 
coursing through my entire body. I knew what he meant and I knew that very soon I would 
get a chance to see the boy's nakedness.

It was the following day that I managed to sneak into my parents' room. There was 
something that I had to do, even though I knew it would be very dangerous.

There was no privacy in our little home. After all, it was a three room house and we lived 
with the simplicity of a farmer's family.

One room was for my parents and was hardly big enough for the bed that they had. 
Another room was shared by me and my two sisters. Since I was the oldest I got a bed all my 
own and the two younger girls shared the other bed.

The center room was our parlor and our dining room and our kitchen all rolled into one. 
And one of the alcoves of that room had a curtain across it and that was where my two little 
brothers slept.

It is amazing that after all of these years of living with the admonition that I had to forget 
about all of the things from my past life, I can still remember things so clearly and vividly.

I have stopped feeling sad about the loss of that life. Although I can remember what 
everything looked like it has been such a long time that I cannot even recall how I felt about 
anyone.

The memory of a warm embrace is not easily kept alive in the cold reality of life.

If there is anyone or anything that I can still recall with a special fondness it is Henri. 
Perhaps that is because the moments that I shared with him resulted in such a terrible impact 
on my life. Or perhaps it is because his fate was similar to mine and since that time when he 
was a youth of fourteen, his fate has been shrouded in the same mystery that mine has been.

Or perhaps I did feel a real affection for the boy!

Anyway, there was a time during the day following my little adventure in the pond, that I 
was alone in the house. You cannot imagine what a rare occasion that was.

In my parents' room there was a full length mirror that was hanging on the wall.

As soon as I realized that I was alone in the house I rushed into that room and I positioned
a chair so that it was leaning against a door. I figured that if anyone tried to come in it would 
give me one extra moment to get my clothes back on.

That's right. I removed my clothes.

I wanted to see my naked body. If I was going to let Henri see my nakedness I thought 
that I should know just what he was going to see.

What was there pleased me and displeased me.

At that time I recall that I really did not have the well-developed breasts that I can now 
boast. But there were two little rounded bumps with large rosy pink nipples that looked to be 
the color of the earliest roses of springtime.

Although those two bumps were not large, they did show good shape and form. And I 
knew the other girls my own age and I felt pretty certain that none of them had any more up 
on their breasts than I had.

As for my pussy lips, they were bare and hairless. I recall that when my sixteen-year-old 
cousin had come to visit us and I had seen her naked pussy as she bathed in the stream I had 
been horrified by the thick and hairy growth between her legs.

I am happy to report that to this day I still only have a little bit of wispy hair at my pussy 
lips. Perhaps it is the fact that I am a blonde and my hair is lighter and softer.

But at that time I could already see that my cunt lips were rosy red and were moist and 
very well-formed.

All of this certainly sounds like the sin of vanity. But what may be sin for a nun is a natural 
thing for a pretty little thirteen-year-old girl! And at that time I was not yet a nun!

So, although I wished that there were more to me, knowing that the boys in the village all 
seemed to be attracted to the girls who were rounded and more voluptuous, I really felt that I 
was pleased with what I had to show to Henri.

Then I heard a sound in the house and I quickly put my clothes back on. My little sister 
called out for me and by the time I got to the door of my parents' bedroom and pulled the 
chair away, I already had my dress back on.

How strange it is the way that memories do come back to us when they are prodded and 
encouraged to do so.

I can clearly recall now that the reason that my little sister had been calling to me was that 
she had gotten stung by a bee. I washed the bee sting and then I kissed it. Then I cuddled the 
child into my arms.

Since my mother had five children and she was always out helping my father with the 
heavy work, I always took on many of the household chores and I often looked after the 
younger children.

Now it is all so long ago.

Sunday was the only day when we got some freedom. That is to say, that was the only day 
when we were not expected to do any work.

There is talk that I have heard that the children of the rich will play and have games. These 
things were unheard of in my home. There were balls and jump ropes for the very young 
children. But I had not had any of these things from the time that I had been eight.

What time was there for that nonsense.

Sunday was the only day when we had any time to ourselves and yet Sunday was the very 
day when we were not permitted any nonsense at all!

However, after church on that one particular fateful Sunday morning, my family was 
walking down the road along with some of the other families.

Everyone walked in a slow and leisurely manner. In part it was because it was Sunday and 
people felt that it would be an insult to the lord if they rushed and also because people used 
it for being sociable and speaking to each other.

Our particular church was a small one, but it was right next to a massive convent.

It was very strange for us. None of us ever saw any of the people from the convent. It was 
as if they never left the walls.

Our own priest, it was said, used to take care of all of the external things for the priests 
and nuns inside of the convent. He would order the supplies that they needed and see that 
any work was done that needed to be done.

But those high grey walls that were streaked and faded from decades of life and sun and 
grime were frightening and imposing things.

Once more I find that I am digressing, and yet this is all information that one would need 
to understand the actions of my story. I can only pray that someone will find this manuscript 
and will be able to tell my mother, if she is still living, what has happened to me!

Let me proceed.

On this one particular Sunday as we were walking home from church, Henri's family was 
walking near us. After all, they did have to go in the same direction.

After we greeted each other, Henri came up to us and he was soon walking abreast of me. 
I began to blush because of what I was thinking about. But the boy maintained himself very 
well.

Henri asked my father, "Monsieur Bourgogne, may I take Therese for a walk?" He was such
a little gentleman that my father could not refuse.

How well I recall walking back toward the church with Henri. I did not even look back as I 
promised to be home in less than two hours so that I could help my mother prepare our 
afternoon dinner.

Little did I know that I would never see my parents again! Little did I know that that little 
walk toward the church would be the beginning of a horror story that has haunted my life 
ever since!

When Henri and I were out of everyone's view, we started walking even faster. We both 
smiled at each other. There was no use for conversation. We both knew what we wanted.

I had promised the boy that he could see me naked if I could also see him naked.

"You do look like a dream come true, Therese!" the boy said to me.

I know that I giggled as I said, "I'm only thirteen. I am sure that I do not look nearly as 
beautiful as the fully grown women around here!"

But he shook his head as he said, "When I look at you I can see the fully grown woman 
that you are going to become!"

My heart was fluttering with delight when I heard these lovely things from the boy. We 
were now on the church property and the two of us walked off into the woods that were 
behind the church.

We were very close to the grey wall because that was where the brush grew thick. Without 
discussing it I know that both of us assumed that this would be the most secret location for us
to do whatever we would do.

Henri was walking in front of me and so when he stopped and turned around I actually did
bump into him.

The boy did not seem to mind at all. When I bumped into him, he pressed his lips down 
against mine.

Neither of us knew what we were doing. It was a bit clumsy, but our lips met and pressed 
hotly. I can still recall that it was a totally dry kiss because neither of us knew how to open our 
mouths for a kiss.

His hands touched my breasts and that was when I moved away from him.

"We were just going to undress!" I warned him, remembering that my passion had been to
see him naked.

"But how can I resist touching you?" he asked me, reaching his hands out.

"I am not going to be a bad girl!" I said, most adamant. "This is Sunday and I do not want 
to sin with you!" It was so quaint the way that I put it all.

"If all you are willing to do is to let me see you naked, then I will gladly settle for that!"

And here on the private pages of this journal I must admit that I did not know for sure that
that was all that I was willing to let him do.

I knew that there was a quivering on the flesh of my cunt and I knew that there was a great
moisture that was building up inside of me.

What I did not know was just what I would permit this boy once we were both naked. As 
was the case with my frigging, I had very mixed feelings about what would happen between 
us. I knew that I wanted to touch the boy and have him touch me. But my mind was telling me
that that would have been evil and sinful!

Stepping away from the boy I tried to be casual about undressing. I saw that there was 
nothing casual about the way that he was undressing. In fact, I was still opening my buttons 
and he was naked to the waist.

His chest was very impressive for such a young boy and as he reached into the breeches 
that he was wearing I could feel my pussy moistening further and I knew that it would soon be
very hard for me to refuse this boy anything.

He stood naked in front of me and his young cock, which did not have any pubic hair at 
the base, was standing firmly erect and pointing toward me like a red-capped soldier at strict 
attention.

And when I was naked I thought that his eyes would bug out. He stepped slowly toward 
me and I could see that his young, firm branch was swaying in the breeze.

Since this is the place for honesty I must say in honesty that I had all the chance in the 
world to run away from that boy at that time. He did not attack me. His movements were slow
and dreamlike.

And then he was standing right next to me and his hand was at my pussy lips.

My hand lightly touched down on his long shaft. It was as hard as marble and was as hot 
as coals.

And that was all that happened between the two of us. It was in that position, he with his 
fingers just lightly touching my pussy lips and me with my fingers rubbing against the length 
of his cock, that we were discovered.

Actually, I do not know how long we might have been spied upon before that, but that 
was the moment that the tall man in the monk's robes swept down into our clearing and 
shouted, "How dare you desecrate God's land?!"

If he had been alone we might have been fine. But there were two other priests along with
him. They dragged both of us naked into the large convent.

That was the end of my normal life as a young girl in the countryside of France. Since that 
moment I have never had any contact with any of my family or with anyone that I used to 
know.

My life has been governed by the church and the only people that I may even speak to are
those people that the church instructs me to speak to.

But, I hear footsteps in the hallway. Heaven have mercy on me if they should find me 
writing in this journal.

It is past the time when I should have blown out my candle.

As the words that I have written thus far are true, I pray that the fates may protect my 
slender journal, and that I may have opportunity to write more in the future.





CHAPTER TWO


If the prioress knew that I am using my meditation time to write in this illicit journal, I cannot 
even imagine what her reaction would be.

As I have re-read my words in the cold light of day, (since that is the only daylight that we 
seem to have here), I can see that I have already committed enough sins in the eyes of the 
church to warrant very severe punishment, if not actual excommunication.

However, this fact makes me feel bolder!

Now that I have already written so much of what I recall and of what has happened to me, 
I do not imagine that I could do myself further harm by continuing my story.

Two weeks has passed since I have taken out this journal and looked in it. During those 
weeks I had kept the journal hidden behind a brick in the wall of my cell.

All during that time I tried to forget that I had ever written these words. I tried to forget 
about all of the things that have happened to me since the time that my life has become tied 
with the life of the church.

But I cannot forget.

And now I write with a goal in mind. It is a goal that could well earn me a place at the 
stake, not as a witch but as a heretic.

Perhaps this writing can someday leave this meager cell and reach the hands of another 
young girl, a girl who was innocent and young like I had once been. If even one girl can be 
saved from a fate similar to mine then I have done a service to the world!

I had written of my youthful love for the handsome Henri and of the time when we had 
innocently undressed in the woods near the convent wall.

What happened after that is etched indelibly into my memory.

Henri and I were struggling with the monks who were dragging us into the convent. Two 
priests were carrying him and one was carrying me.

Once we were inside we were separated, but that was not the very last that I was ever to 
see of Henri!

I was left naked in a chamber. The monks had left my clothes outside of the wall and I had 
already been dragged through half of the convent with nothing at all on my body.

There was only one window in my little cell and it was at least eight feet up on the wall.

A cross was on one wall and a bench was on the wall with the window. The bench was 
apparently for sleeping. Other than that there was only a chamber pot there and there was a 
little stool.

I had no idea of how to measure time since I was stuck in there. At that time I still 
imagined that I would get a scolding and a whipping from some priest and then they would 
send me home. I figured that the lack of my clothing was just an oversight.

Some desire within me made me want to look out of the window. Perhaps it was just that 
same curiosity that had gotten me in trouble in the first place. Or maybe it was some intuition 
that told me that there was something that I wanted to see outside.

Placing the stool on the bench that was near the window, I managed to climb up so that I 
could look through the bars of the little window.

And the first thing that I saw when I looked down was Henri. I was only one flight up and 
so I could see pretty well without any distortion.

Henri was being paraded between a group of nuns to a post that was in the center of a 
courtyard. His hands were tied together and they were raised up over his head and attached 
to the post.

I pressed my hand against my heart because I do not know how I was able to breathe as I 
watched the youthful, handsome lad being prepared for his punishment.

There were no priests down there, only nuns.

The boy's naked back was facing me and I could see the smooth and golden flesh of his 
shoulders that tapered down to the slim waist and the white and rounded cheeks of his 
bottom.

How luscious his bottom looked to me.

And then I saw that one of the nuns had a whip. I winced as I saw her hand raise up in the 
air and then her arm described an arc and her black robes blew in the breeze like the spread 
wing of a bird.

I could actually hear the sound as well as the echo of the whip that cracked hard against 
the boy's tender behind.

Once again the whip was raised in the air and made its circular descent down to the tender
spot of the boy's posterior.

The cheeks of his bottom were already dripping blood and I could see that his whole 
slender and handsome form tensed up each time that he heard the sound of the hot leather 
that was cutting through the air.

At that time the only reference that I had for anything like that was the strap that the 
schoolmaster used. However the strap was a puny thing compared to this whip and I had 
never seen the schoolmaster wield his weapon so viciously.

The nun who was doing the whipping was actually tossing the whip back over her 
shoulder so that she could really cut into the young boy's tender body.

For the first three strikes of the whip I could see that the boy managed to take the 
punishment. But as soon as the fourth whiplash made contact with his rounded bottom, I 
could hear a howl that sounded like it was made by a dying animal.

It was unlike any human sound that I knew of.

And then I realized what had happened. The nun had struck him with the whip at exactly 
the spot where he had just been whipped.

The cut had cut through the place where there was already a cut and the boy's agony was 
intense.

Now, although everything up to that point had indicated to me that this was an unusual 
place, something happened then that chilled me to the bone. When the boy howled in agony, 
one of the nuns cackled a mean and hollow laugh.

I had never before heard a nun laugh and I had always imagined that when I heard one 
laugh it would not have been over a matter like the cruel whipping of a fourteen-year-old boy.

His body was shivering and shaking on the stake where he was tied as he took the rest of 
the lashes.

Then he was cut down and he crumbled to the ground. I saw that the ground in that part 
of the courtyard under my window was covered with tiles and I had never imagined that the 
church was that rich and lavish.

When the boy had fallen to the ground I could see that his back was all torn up from the 
bleeding lash marks.

I shivered in horror when one of the nuns kicked him over onto his back. I realized the 
pain and the rawness that must have been consuming his bloodied back and I imagined the 
pain that the boy felt when his back came in contact with the cold tile on the ground.

But, I did not have to imagine what it was like for him. I could see what it was like for him!

The look on the boy's face and the way that his body was contorting in agony when his 
back made contact with the hard surface of the ground made my heart break for him.

And it also sent a chill up my spine. I knew that if they were punishing him in this way, that
my punishment would soon be on its way!

If everything that I had witnessed behind the convent walls up until that point had amazed
me, then the following had me absolutely aghast with horror.

The nuns had surrounded the boy as he lay naked and wounded on the ground. His hard 
cock was still lying across his smooth and youthful belly.

Then the nun who had been doing the whipping, pulled up her black habit and revealed 
that she was completely naked underneath it.

She landed on the boy's face and I could tell that he was being forced to eat the pussy of 
this high ranking nun as all of the other nuns stood around and watched.

The nun who was on his face was still in her full habit and she was bouncing up and down 
merrily on the boy's face. I say that her movements were merry and yet that only describes the
way that she was bouncing.

Her attitude was very severe. I could see from the look on her face that she was riding the 
boy's mouth with a cruel vengeance that made the sides of her lips curl up cruelly.

Then another nun pulled off her habit and was left simply wearing her black headgear. I 
had never before thought of nuns as having bodies. That is a strange thing to say since I was 
just on the verge of being forcibly initiated into their order.

But this nun who had taken off her habit had a perfectly lovely body. I could hardly take 
my eyes off of it. Her breasts were beautifully curved and her hips were fully rounded.

She had a fringe of dark hairs around her pussy and she reached down to touch her pussy 
lips. When she did this, she brought her finger up to her nose to sniff her own pussy odors.

As I said, everything about the place was very strange to an innocent thirteen-year-old.

This nun who was so close to being naked and had her pussy completely exposed, 
grabbed onto Henri's cock and spread herself out over the boy's body.

She actually lowered herself right onto the cock.

And then I was feeling horror mixed with fury. How could my feelings make sense, when in
point of fact nothing that I was viewing made any sense to me.

I knew that I felt fury because this nun had the boy's cock in her pussy and she was 
enjoying the intrusion of the thick and young shaft of meat.

But this was the boy that I had dreamed about for so long! This was the cock that I had 
craved! And now this beautiful nun was enjoying it!

Why were we being punished for trying to enjoy the same things on the outside of the 
convent walls that were now going on inside of the walls?

That is a question that I have never been able to sufficiently answer. Like many religious 
questions it is one that would bring punishment to the person who asked it.

Too often among my religious order, punishment is the substitute for answers or sense!

The thing that caused me horror as I looked out of the window and saw that the boy was 
being used as a tool of erotic pleasure by the group of nuns was the fact that I knew they 
could not let us out after we had been through such a thing.

After all, you never hear of such things! The fact of the matter is that anyone who 
witnesses such things is then kept where they cannot communicate the information!

Up until that point I was expecting some terribly severe punishments and whippings. I 
assumed that they would send the two of us home where our fathers would give us even 
worse whippings.

But now that the youth was lying on his bruised back and was eating out the pussy of one 
nun as the other nun slid her pussy lips up and down along the boy's thickened cock, it 
seemed obvious that there was no hope for our ever leaving that place!

My hand is shaking as I write these words. And yet, may I be preserved, my pussy is juicing
up.

As I remember the smooth and silky flesh of the boy's back and as I remembering the 
quivering and hairless member that stood up so firmly at the touch of 'the perverse nun, I 
cannot help but feel the heat rise up in my own cunt lips.

These are remembered pleasures and remembered passions, and yet I can feel them 
burning hotly and brightly within me.

Have I become as perverse as the others when the memories of the boy's whipping can 
cause my own blood to boil and the juices of love within my pussy flesh to seethe as in a 
cauldron?

Perhaps I have!

But now I hear someone sounding the bell to tell us that our meditation time is over. I do 
not have time to tarry but must put this journal in a safe hiding place before my cell door is 
opened by the prioress!



* * *



It has been three days since I last took down this journal to write of my experiences. When 
I had put it away the last time, the prioress had just opened my door as I was putting the brick
back in place.

"Sister Felicity!" the tall woman said with a sneer.

I rose to my feet so that I could bow my head, the proper pose for a member of my order. 
There was no reply called from on my part.

"What were you doing by the wall?"

"Holy Mother, I was meditating on the age of the bricks of the wall. I was thinking of how 
long the lord had worked on just these bricks so that they would be eventually used to shelter
us and help us to do his work.

"It would seem that he actually knew the ultimate end of these bricks when they were but 
pebbles on his shores!" I concluded.

The prioress grunted and then turned to leave my cell. I do not know whether she believed
a single word that I spoke and I rather doubt that she did.

But in my time with the sisters I have learned the fine art of dissembling. I can give answers
like that all of the time. I know just the sort of things that they want to hear.

And even if they don't believe me when I tell them these things, how can they argue with 
me when I have told them just the sort of text that they believe in so ardently.

Actually I doubt the statements of belief that I have heard from the sisters in my order. I 
do not know which of them had come voluntarily and which of them had been initiated as I 
had been. But all of them seem to be a bit tense all of the time.

But here, with just the time that I have for my meditations, I must continue my story about 
my initial involvement with the Sisters of Charity and the way that I eventually became Sister 
Felicity, the identity that I still cannot accept!

Yes! Let me say it right here. If the prioress finds anything else of mine and if she is to call 
me a heretic on the basis of anything else that I have written, then let her call me a heretic on 
the basis of my denying the calling that was thrust so rudely upon me!

I can still recall the cold chill that I had felt the day that I had been looking out of the 
window of the little cell and seen the boy that I loved ravaged and tortured by the nuns.

Then I heard a sound and I knew that someone was coming down the hallway to my door.

Just as I climbed off of the bench and put the stool back where it belonged, the door 
opened and there was one of the monks. He had on a black hood so that I could not see his 
face.

Immediately I put my hands in front of myself. It was frightening being exposed to 
someone whose face and identity were a mystery.

I put one hand in front of my hairless pussy lips and I put my other hand in front of my 
youthful little mounds of breasts.

"Please, sir!" I said in a soft voice. "Can't I have some clothes?"

He seemed to be on the other side of the room and yet in an instant he was standing right
up next to me and he was slapping me across the face. I reeled over to the side and almost fell
over from the intensity of the slap that he had given me.

Then I looked up at him and he said, "Follow me!"

He turned and with a soft sound of fabric rubbing against fabric he disappeared out of the
room. I knew that the slap was a punishment for disobedience.

At that point I was completely defenseless and may I add that even if I had been wearing 
my clothes I would have felt completely defenseless.

I had to follow the monk. Even though I was naked and frightened, I did not see any 
option.

Even now that years have passed and my life has become entrenched in the rigors of the 
order of the Sisters of Charity, I can look back at that time and I can say that I do not see what 
else I could have done.

I was soon walking along down the halls of the convent and I was completely naked. The 
monk did not even bother to look behind him. He knew that I had to follow him.

Even if I had turned down a different direction and gone down a different corridor, there 
was no escape for me! I was inside the convent and I had no idea how to get out.

But then the monk stopped at a door and he opened it wide and made a motion to usher 
me through.

I stepped up to the door and I saw that there were another six monks inside of the large 
room. As soon as I saw that all of these faceless men were looking at me, I turned and bolted 
from the room.

The foolishness of that move dawned on me as soon as I did it.

Before I had even taken two steps, I had been crushed to the floor by two of the monks.

Then I was dragged into the room. I do remember that there were tears streaming down 
my eyes.

"She will be good for servicing the brothers!" one of the hooded men said in a deep voice. 
That was the only thing that I heard as they slapped my hands up to a post in much the same 
way that I had seen Henri's hands strapped up by the nuns.

But the thing that frightened me was that I did not have my back to these monks. I was 
facing them and my youthful breasts were heaving up and down as I watched the huge man 
in the center raise his whip up over his shoulder.

Even before the whip made contact with my delicate flesh, I screamed out a loud shriek 
that must have rocked the rafters of the ancient building.

And then the whip cut right through my left nipple!

The scream that I had been screaming died away in the back of my throat as I felt the hot 
searing pain of the whip slicing right through my tender flesh.

In all of the excitement of the moment my nipple had become very firm and large so that 
it was sticking straight out.

This apparently allowed the whip to slice through my flesh so that the tender rosy nipple 
was cut right in two with a rip right through the middle of it.

In the fleeting moment that I was given to feel anything, I could feel the intense pain of my
cut nipple coursing all through my naked young body.

But then my senses were distracted because the whip sliced right through my other nipple 
and then there was the wild pain that was caused by the hot contact.

My body was wriggling around with my hands up above my head, and then one of the 
cruel monks pulled on the ropes that were binding my hands and I was pulled up a little way 
from the floor.

If I stretched my body out to the furthest extreme I could stretch my toes so that they 
touched the floor. But then the pains in my breasts grew even more intense because of the 
tension that was wracking my poor stretched body.

They turned me around and then the lash began to come down on the cheeks of my 
young and white bottom. When I felt the first lash slap across my smooth, naked behind I 
could feel the tension that caused the cheeks of my bottom to clench together.

I remembered the look of Henri's beautiful bottom when he had tensed his cheeks and the
way that the two hollow spots appeared on either side of his youthful behind. And I was 
imagining that my own bottom must have looked very similar to that.

The slicing whip kept criss-crossing on my tender flesh. I use the word slicing because it 
often felt like a knife as it cut into my body.

Back and forth. I do not know which was worse. Sometimes the whip would lash through 
the bits of my flesh that had just been whipped and then I would feel wounds upon my 
wounds. Other times the whip would break through a new area of my flesh and then I would 
be aware of pain in a part of my body of which I had previously been unaware.

As the whipping continued behind me, one of the monks came around in front of me. He 
pulled back his hood and for the first time I got a look at his face.

Can I ever forget the cruel black eyes that surveyed me so dispassionately? He had black 
hair that fringed a powerfully square face. And he had very cruel lips.

Reaching up toward my defenseless body, he put his thumb and his forefinger on either 
side of my sensitive nipple. The nipple had just been ripped by the whip and, although I could 
not look down at myself considering my bound position, I could feel the blood that had to be 
there.

This black-eyed monk did not care about the blood. He was only interested in taking his 
pleasure with my youthful breast. He rubbed his two fingers back and forth over my nipple 
and he squeezed it very hard.

Then I could feel a sharp contact along the side of my firm and battered nipple.

Apparently he was running the fingernail of his thumb along one side of my nipple, while 
he ran the fingernail of his forefinger along the other side. It was as if he had a carving set and
he was trying to cut right through the delicate flesh of my breast.

As the vicious man's nails cut back and forth along my nipple I could still feel the lash 
kissing the blood from my ripped and tattered bottom.

By that point in my tortures it was all the same to me. I could feel the same pain from the 
whip that I could from his fingernail.

It is amazing how small things can have such terrible results. It was certainly amazing to 
me just how much pain and torment could be created by something as small as a fingernail.

And then, as suddenly as if the heaven's had opened, all of the torture stopped.

Pain was certainly still present because I was still bound and hanging just a half an inch 
from the floor. Once the whipping had stopped and there was no more wild frenzy I actually 
became even more aware of my aches and pains.

That was a moment that I could stop and realize that my body was tom apart. That was a 
moment when I could suddenly become aware of the places on my body that were on fire 
from the vicious kiss of the whip.

And then it was as if the whole room was shattered around me. The black-eyed monk who
had been standing right in front of me and brutalizing my nipples, shouted so loud that I felt 
my body quake from the impact.

"Are you a tool of Satan?" the ominous man asked in a bellowing shout.

My mouth began to open. It had been such a long time since I had uttered anything other 
than screams of pain that I had actually forgotten how to speak.

"You do not answer?" he screamed in the same loud bellow.

And then the whip that was still behind me whistled through the air and sliced right down 
across my back.

"No!" I screeched like a gull. Between the sobs that I could not control I said, "No! I am not
a tool of Satan!"

"Your answer did not come fast enough." he sneered in a voice that was so deep and 
gravelly that I thought it was coming from the bowels of the earth.

By that time I was shaking so uncontrollably that my whole body was dangling like a leaf 
in the wind. The man was standing just an inch away from me and I felt terribly threatened.

When his coarse hand reached down and touched my pussy lips, pulling the dainty and 
hairless morsels apart, my body was shivering and trembling all over. I was breathing heavily 
and felt certain that I was going to black out at any moment.

I was expecting him to do something horrible and brutal. After all, my hands were still tied 
up firmly above my head and I was totally defenseless.

At that point it occurred to me that my young virgin pussy was the only spot of my body 
that had not been brutalized by this terrible man.

The suspense was mounting as he simply rubbed one finger gently up and back along the 
lips of my pussy.

"Do you have sexual desires?" the black-eyed monk asked me.

This time his voice was soft and enticing. I was so scared that tears were streaming down 
my cheeks.

Taken in by his enticing voice I almost replied in the positive to his question. But 
something inside of my sensed that this was a trap.

His finger pulled apart the wrinkled flesh of my pink pussy lips and he was rubbing his 
finger up and down inside of the opening to my vagina.

"I... I don't know." I mumbled hoarsely.

The rubbing of his finger was still gentle, but it grew more intense as he felt around for the
point of my greatest passion.

His finger rubbed back and forth on that little hidden spot inside of me that is so very 
sensitive to the touch.

I had to bite down on my lower lip to keep from crying out in passion. The juices were 
flowing inside of my body and I could feel the flesh that surrounded my vagina wriggling and 
undulating as if it had a life and a mind of its own.

"Satan puts lies on your tongue!" the terrifying monk shouted in such a loud voice that I 
thought he was going to blow me away.

There was a little squeak that came up from the back of my throat. It was something that I 
could not control. I was simply terrified.

And then as soon as I had emitted this sound, I could feel his finger tugging on the flesh 
of my pussy.

He was actually pulling on the moist flesh that was inside of me and I though he was 
going to succeed in pulling my body inside out.

There was a tortured gargled sound that came up from the back of my throat even though
I did not sense that I was emitting the sound.

Of all of the pains that he had put me through, none of them was as terrible as that. The 
tugging on my pussy flesh and particularly on that one bit of my flesh that was the most 
sensitive and the most heated, was a pain that ran up and down my spine.

I could feel the hairs bristling on the top of my scalp and I could feel little pin pricks of 
agony on the soles of my feet.

When he let go of my pussy flesh it was only in an act of disgust. He wiped the moisture 
that was on his fingers onto my hip, and I could feel the stickiness of that contact.

He brought his hand up and he slapped me across the face.

At that point I did not dare to speak up. But by then I was so confused that I didn't know 
what was going on and I didn't know why I was being punished.

"You are a lying whore!" he hissed between his teeth. "You try to deny the sexual passion 
that you feel and yet I felt the juices of your body boiling up inside of you!

"I knew that you craved the feel of the whip and the touch of my hand! And that makes 
you the tool of Satan!"

"No!" I said in a hoarse voice that was hardly a whisper.

And then the massive monk with the glowing black eyes tossed off his robes. I was 
shocked to see that he was completely naked beneath the robes.

Just a few hours before I had seen a naked boy for the first time in my life. I was not quite 
prepared for the sight of a naked man so soon afterwards.

His body was amazing. He had a very broad chest and I could see all of the muscles on his 
chest. His nipples were standing out firm and hard against the powerful and leathery flesh of 
his chest.

The man was covered with black hair. His arms were as wide as young trees and now that I
saw them revealed and bare, I imagined that the man had immense strength.

His very wide shoulders tapered down to a slim waist and then there was a thick bush of 
black hairs in the man's mid-section.

I shuddered when I looked down and saw the huge organ which was hanging partially 
limp between the man's legs.

The widely flared red head of the cock looked like a mushroom and the base was so thick 
and long that it did not look like it was humanly possible.

His long and powerful fingers went down to his cock and he just began to stroke it lightly 
as he snarled, "You crave the feel of my manhood inside your body."

I shook my head. My lips were clamped shut and I was too frightened to open them.

"I want you to tell me that you crave the feel of my manhood in your body!" he said in a 
voice that might have been used by a stem schoolmaster in demanding a response from a 
student.

"I... I do not!" I said, panting for breath.

As I felt his broad cock lengthen and as I felt the head of his hard maleness rubbing up 
against the soft white flesh of my belly, he repeated, "I want to hear you tell me that you crave
my manhood inside of your body!"

And then the whip slashed down on my back.

I had almost forgotten that the lash marks were there. It was not that they had stopped 
hurting. It was simply the fact that I had been too frightened by this man to even think of the 
pain that was on my back.

The whip rained down a torrent of slashes on my back as the man repeated his demand 
that I tell him that I wanted his manhood.

Then his words became harsher. "You want me to fuck you! I want to hear you beg me to 
fuck you! Beg me! Beg me!"

"No!" I screamed out and held that note in an attempt to block out the horrible words that
he was saying.

And still the whip was ripping at my poor battered ass as the man continued to shout, 
"Beg me to fuck you!"

Two of the monks behind me grabbed onto my legs and lifted me up so that I was lying 
facing down. However I was still dangling from the post where they had tied me. When I say 
that I was lying face down, you understand that I was lying on thin air.

My body was supported by the post on one side and by the two priests on the other end. 
Their goal seemed to be to spread me open and I really was pulled open like a wishbone.

And then I felt a little tickling at my pussy lips. It was the whip! The tip of the hot leather 
whip was running up and down along the delicately wrinkled flesh of my cunt.

Then the whip was pulled away. There was a moment that seemed like an eternity and 
then I heard the sound of the whip whistling through the air.

The whistle was cut short by the harsh and burning contact. The slashing edge of the whip 
cut right through the delicately moist flesh of my pussy.

And still the man in front of me was snarling, "Beg me to fuck your pussy!"

As I screamed out in reaction to the vicious sting of the whip, I cried, "Fuck me! Fuck me!"

Never had such words crossed my lips prior to that point. But even though I had spoken 
those awful words, still the whip slashed out once more.

With the precision of a master the monk wielding the whip ripped right through the lips of
my pussy once more.

"I told you to beg me!" the man in front of me said in a low and mocking voice.

"Please fuck me!" Again the whip slashed down across my pussy lips. "I beg of you! Fuck 
me! Fuck my pussy with your cock! I beg you to fuck!"

I was sobbing wildly as my body was lowered down to the ground. The bonds that had 
tied my hands were removed and I was then lying in a heap on the ground.

"You have proven that you are the tool of Satan!" said the naked monk who was standing 
above me and rubbing back and forth on the long and hard cock that was in his hand.

When I looked up at him with the look of pain that was in my eyes, he said, "A decent 
woman would have held out through all sorts of tortures. It took very little to bring you to the 
point of begging for my cock."

Very little? The agony was wracking ever bit of my body. I had lost all of my defenses and I 
had ended up following his instructions and begging for the fucking that I would inevitably 
get. To this day I cannot see any way that I could have withstood any more pain and agony.

But I was then spread out on the ground. I really understood some of the pain that poor 
Henri had withstood when I felt my rounded ass cheeks pressed against the cold bricks of the 
floor.

My bottom was all streaked up from the whipping that I had received and the contact with
the floor was horribly painful to me.

I was held down by four different monks and I could not move.

Then I looked up and I saw the terrible man with the black eyes standing right above me. 
He slammed his body down on me so that I was squashed to the floor.

It was terribly painful when I felt the man's heavy body pressing me down and squashing 
my ass to the ground. Then all of the streaks the bloodied whip slashes that were on my 
bottom were crushed against the cold brick of the floor.

And then I felt the broad mushroom head of his cock pressing against my pussy lips. Two 
of the monks pulled my legs apart and pulled them up into the air so that my wrinkled lips 
were fully exposed to the man's view.

I felt his cock head press between the lips of my pussy and then I felt my pussy lips 
clinging to his cock head. I felt as if the wide flare in his cock head was leaving a permanent 
indentation in the supple flesh of my vagina.

He pushed forward a little bit.

Then I could feel that his cock head was pressing right up against something that was firm 
and solid in my pussy. I knew that with the next thrust of his cock he would manage to break 
right through into my body.

I shut my eyes in horror of the pain that I knew would be coming.

His hips were arched up and I could tell from the massive muscles of this man that his hips
carried a great deal of power and strength.

Then he pushed forward and his cock slammed right into my body. It ripped through the 
flesh that had guarded my virginity.

After all of the pains that I had been through, I could not even voice my agony at that 
point. My mouth opened but no sound came out.

He did not give me a moment to rest or to relax. Once he had ripped through into my 
body I felt his cock slide the rest of the way up my hot love tunnel.

Since he had just broken through my hymen and there was blood in my vagina, I could 
feel his cock slide into me on the virgin blood.

The black eyed monk had used my own virgin blood to lubricate his fucking.

Once his cock was all the way inside of me, he pulled back out of me so that only the wide 
head of his shaft was in my pussy. Then he pushed back into me.

His cock head was so widely flared that I could feel the ridge around it rubbing up and 
down against the moist surface of my cunt flesh.

I imagined that as he fucked me, he managed to rub the blood deeply into my pussy flesh.

Having lost my virginity in such a horrible manner, I still imagine that the blood of my 
virginity was rubbed deeply into my flesh.

After the massive man finished fucking my pussy wildly I felt his cock flesh broaden out 
and expand with the juices of his body so that it spread against the sides of my pussy flesh.

His chest hairs were scratching against the delicate buds of my nipples and his powerful 
chest was pressing down on my breasts.

Then I felt a flood of juice come splashing out from the head of his cock. It burned against 
the back of my pussy and it ripped into me in a fiery manner.

Since I feel sworn to honesty as I write in this journal, I feel that I must admit that when his 
big and thick cock was ramming into me and shooting out the sticky and hot liquid into my 
body, I felt the walls of my vagina collapsing around his hard shaft.

Some of the moisture that was filling up my ravaged love slit was the juice of my own 
body. There was a great excitement that welled up inside of me!

How can I explain this? Or, is explanation necessary?

Perhaps this is the way that women do react when men fuck them! Since I have remained 
in this cloistered life where I have been forbidden to honestly express my passions, I have only
grown more confused over the years.

But I have already written too long.

When the prioress came into my cell just yesterday I saw her looking at the wall in a very 
meaningful way. Since that other day when she found me by the wall, putting this journal 
away, I feel that she has been suspicious that something is strange about that wall.

I am fearful of the day when she will discover the loose brick and I must find a new hiding 
place for this journal.

Meanwhile, I must rest my pen and appear to be at my meditations.

When I take up my pen once more I shall attempt to describe my life once I was initiated 
into the ways of the holy order.

My abuses did not end with that first day. They had just begun!





CHAPTER THREE


I must say that it was fortunate that I found a different place to hide this journal. If I had left it 
behind the brick in the wall it would have been discovered for sure.

Since I sleep on a mattress that is stuffed with straw and is on a wooden plank, it was a 
simple matter to dig into the straw and place this journal among the rough strands.

It certainly is no more uncomfortable having the journal among the bits of straw than it 
had already been.

When I returned to my cell today after having spent the better part of the morning 
scrubbing down the cold stone stairs, I sensed that someone had been in here.

There were no signs around, but I kept checking nonetheless and sure enough it seems 
that there is fresh cement around the brick that had been loose.

Apparently someone came in to investigate and if my suspicions are correct, they came in 
because the prioress had seen me near the wall. They must have checked out the whole wall 
and they were probably very disappointed when they found that there wasn't anything behind
that brick.

I breathe a sigh of relief that my secret has remained undiscovered and I cannot help but 
feel that there is some guardian protecting me!

This journal has become my whole life because surely the cold and friendless existence 
that I have in this convent is no life to lead!

But this secret has helped me immeasurably over the short time that I have had it! I can 
now sit at the hard wood table on the hard wood bench and look at the poor bowl of gruel 
that is served us for the midday meal and I can digest it as I think of what I shall write when 
next I take out this book!

The thrill of taking out this journal and writing in it is so great that I live my whole life now 
with the expectation of adding to this journal.

And yet, now that I am crouched into the corner of my cell and I have this journal open, I 
am at a loss. There are so many things that I could write that I do not know just what I should 
write.

Having glanced at the writing that I had done on the previous days, I realize that I have 
gone through only my first day among the nuns and monks. There are so many other 
incidents that surrounded that initial period of my religious servitude that I find it impossible 
to catalogue them.

But a few of them do stand out.

That was the Convent D'If where I was originally locked up. I use that term in its literal 
sense because I might very well have been a prisoner in some tower.

I do not know what attempts my parents might have made to contact me or to 
communicate with me, but I never heard from them and it was not possible for me to contact 
them.

They had severed me so completely from my previous life that I never even saw my 
clothing again.

I was given the robes of a nun of the order and I was told that I was a novice with the 
order. No one ever asked me if I wanted to be with the order and no one asked me if I had 
any interest at all in taking vows or in devoting my life to the church.

It is interesting that now I feel a greater love for my lord than I ever have in the past. I truly
believe in his power and in his existence.

And, although this may sound strange, I also have faith in my church. Yes! Although I have 
been brutalized in the name of the church I realize that these perverse and wicked people who
have made my life a living hell do not represent the spirit and the body of the church.

When I was given those robes and made a novice I was expected to carry out the orders of
the nuns.

My life was totally regulated. I went to morning prayers and then I worked for the 
morning. Then there was a light midday meal of some broth or porridge or gruel and then in 
the afternoon either I would be expected to work further, either scrubbing floors or mending 
curtains or the like, or else I would be sent off to service the priests and the monks.

One night as I was sleeping, (I know that it was early in my stay and that I was still sleeping
fitfully if at all), the door to my cell swung open. I looked up and there were two hooded 
figures at the door.

Since I had just been given my robes and no undergarments, I slept uncovered. This was 
something that I had never dreamed of doing at my parents' home, and to this day it still 
seems rather lewd to me.

I pulled my blanket up to try to cover my nakedness, but the two men did not seem to 
care what I did. They looked at each other in the darkness of my cell.

There was a little moonlight that was streaming in through the one window that was so 
high up on the wall, but I could not see the faces of these two men in the shadows of their 
hoods.

"This is the new one!" one of the monks said to the other.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying not to show my fear and already understanding just 
what it was that they wanted.

"On your knees at my feet!" one of the monks commanded me.

I started to rise up from the bed, still holding the tattered blanket in front of me to hide 
my nudity. But the second monk pulled on the blanket so that my body was revealed to them 
both.

I had already been there long enough to know that I was defenseless against them.

A hand pressed down on my shoulders and I found my knees slammed down against the 
cold brick of the cell floor. The door to the cell had been closed and I knew that I would be 
kept in that cell with these two men until I had given them the satisfaction that they craved.

At that point I could only hope that they would get their satisfaction quickly.

"You do not really know how to serve a man." the tall monk standing over me said.

Since I was kneeling in front of him, I could feel his legs rubbing back and forth against my
young and budding breasts.

He pulled on the rope belt of his robe and he revealed his powerful body. His body was 
slim and yet he was tall and well-proportioned.

There was no hair on his chest and there was a patch of hair at the base of his cock that 
appeared to be light golden. He still had the hood on his head and he still had the robe on. 
Since the robe was just opened, I could only see the part of the front of his body that was 
revealed between the folds of fabric.

His cock head was bobbing just a few inches from my face, but being the innocent that I 
was, I did not know what he wanted me to do.

"Do you like the look of my cock?" he asked in a low and anxious voice.

I had learned by that point that I had been chosen for the purpose of pleasing men. I was 
to be used for servicing men. And I knew from the punishments that I had received in the first 
few days just what answers they really wanted from me.

"Yes, sir!" I said in response to his question.

"It looks delicious, does it not?"

"Yes. Delicious!" I was too tired to fight him.

"Then taste it!"

"Sir?" I asked, looking up at him from my kneeling position.

"You are going to put your young Ups around my shaft of cock and you are going to lick 
the head with your tongue!" he said in a very calm voice.

I pulled away from him just a little bit. "No! Please sir!"

"Please, what?" he asked with a snarl in his voice that sounded like he was going to 
explode at me.

"Please!" I began to stammer, trying to save myself from the fate he had just recited and 
watching as his big cock grew even larger and longer. "Please fuck my pussy! Please, I beg you
to put your cock in my pussy!"

He seemed to chuckle a little. I know that the cruel man felt satisfaction that I had been 
brought to the point where I would beg to feel his cock in my pussy.

The point was that I did not want to take the big thing into my mouth. That seemed 
odious and unpleasant and when I looked at the size of his manhood, jutting out in front of 
him, it also seemed like an impossible task!

"Perhaps I shall give you that pleasure later on!" he said with a sly and vicious twist in his 
words. "If you please me enough!"

My heart was beating very fast. I knew that he had his mind set on exactly what I was 
going to do and as far as he was concerned there would be no way around it for me.

I felt the powerful hands of the second robed man behind me and he held me in position 
on my knees. The first man, the one whose robe was open, stepped toward me with his huge 
cock swinging back and forth in front of him.

And then his penis was right up against my lips. I tried to turn my head to the side, but the
man behind me was holding me firmly in position so that I could not move my head at all.

I thought that he would break my neck if I tried to do any movement that he did not like.

And, of course, by that time the thought had entered my mind that I was so completely at 
the mercy of these people in this strange convent that if they wanted to kill me there would 
be no one to call them to task for it.

Since my head was being held firmly where it was, the monk whose cock was exposed, was
rubbing his hard maleness back and forth along my tightly clenched lips.

When I finally opened my lips it was to cry out, "For the name of mercy, I beg of you... "

But that was all that I got a chance to say. The thick knob at the head of the long cock 
slipped right between my lips.

Even though it was only the head of his cock that was between my lips, I felt it stretching 
at my mouth. My teeth were grazing lightly along the ridge of his cock head.

There was a hand at my throat. "If I feel your teeth on my cock, I shall see to it that you 
never never use your pretty little mouth again!"

I gagged due to the hand at my throat and then I stretched my mouth open as wide as it 
would go.

His cock began to slide into my mouth and I could feel the delicate flesh on the bottom of 
his penis as it rubbed lightly against my moist tongue.

The man moaned as I licked a little bit at the flesh under his cock head.

And then I felt the broad cock head pressing down hard against the back of my throat. I 
tried to swallow and the muscles in the back of my throat could not come together as I 
wanted them to.

They pressed on either side of the cock head and then the monk pushed his cock even 
further into my throat so that I was impaled on the hard shaft of maleness.

He pressed in a little further, so just when I thought that his length of cock was really 
going to rip my throat apart, he put even more of it into my throat.

But then I knew that I had gotten all of his cock into my throat. I could feel his heavy 
hanging testicles pressing down against my chin and I could feel the thick patch of blond hairs
pressing down against my nose.

And then he started to pull his penis out of my mouth. He just pulled a little bit out of my 
mouth and then he slammed it back into my moist orifice.

A little at a time he kept on sliding his cock back and forth in my mouth. The man behind 
me was holding my hands up behind my back so that my wrists were twisted around and 
touching my shoulder blades in a terribly uncomfortable way.

And as the exposed monk in front of me continued with the movements of his hips, he 
was soon fucking my face.

Yes! That is the only way that I can refer to it. He was fucking in and out of my face. His 
cock would slam all the way in and then I could feel the patch of hairs at the base of his cock 
making contact with my nose while I could feel the head of his cock pressing down against 
the back of my throat.

And then he would pull his cock back out of my mouth so that only the head of the hard 
thing would still be between my lips.

In and out he was moving the thick shaft of flesh.

And then I felt his testicles churning as they pressed against my chin. I knew that there was
some movement going on that was deep within the man's body and was out of his control.

Then he slammed his thick penis all the way into my mouth. He did it so quickly and so 
hard that I could not help but feel that even his testicles were going to shove their way into 
my mouth.

His thick cock seemed to expand in width and then I felt the head jerk up and slap hard 
against the roof of my mouth.

At the spot where it slapped there was a splash of hot liquid and I knew that the man was 
having his orgasm right in my mouth.

Hot liquid was steaming into my throat so quickly that I could not help but swallow it and 
then when I did swallow it I could feel the pressure of my throat muscles rubbing hard against 
the man's cock head.

I knew that I was only urging even more of the juice out of the man's body!

He seemed to keep pumping away into my mouth, as if there were no end to the amount 
of thick gism that he was going to pour down my throat.

Some of it did drool out of my mouth and I could feel the warmth of the sticky substance 
that was sliding down the sides of my mouth and even dribbling down onto my neck.

I wished that I could at least take my hand and wipe away the mess that was dribbling 
onto my chin. But the vicious monk behind me was holding my hands behind my back and I 
was helpless to do anything about it!

Eventually the exposed monk in front of me pulled his cock out of my mouth. I was 
horrified to see that his cock was still hard.

After all, I had been drinking the juices of his orgasm for such a long time that it was 
amazing to me that he could still have any passion left inside of him. But, apparently he did.

"Do not think that I have forgotten about your other request!" he sneered and then 
laughed.

I realized that when he had first ordered me to take his cock into my mouth, I had begged 
him to fuck my pussy, hoping that I would be able to divert his attention.

But, I had not diverted his attention and now as I looked at the hard cock that was jutting 
up in front of me and still glistening from the moisture of my mouth, I knew that he was going
to ravage my pussy as well.

He pulled the robes all the way off of his body and revealed his face. He was a very 
pleasant looking young man with a strong body that looked quite trim.

Then I turned as I realized that the monk behind me was also pulling off his robes. These 
robes seemed to be the equalizer of the monks. When they had them on they were all 
anonymous and they all seemed to be much the same.

This second monk, the one who had been holding me from behind, was actually quite a bit
shorter than the tall blond monk whose cock I had just sucked. The shorter man was very dark
and swarthy and he was very muscular.

And when this swarthy man revealed his nakedness he revealed a cock that was built much
like he was. It might not have been the longest cock that I had ever seen, but it was the 
thickest and stockiest.

When I looked up at them, the two monks looked across to one another as if they were 
agreeing on some point. Then I just saw them nod.

The swarthy man climbed on top of my body and I looked over his shoulder at the blond 
man. I did not know just what was going on, but then again, I rarely knew what was going on 
there!

I was pressed down to the cold ground by the heavy-set body of the dark monk. I could 
feel his cock rubbing against the smooth flesh of my belly as he pushed from side to side.

There was apparently a little bit of gism already at the slit of his cock head. It oozed out of 
the man and dribbled onto my flesh.

Then, as he continued to rub his cock back and forth on my belly, he spread the juice on 
my belly and I could feel his cock moving slickly back and forth.

The cock juice that had dribbled from him had lubricated my flesh and I must say that it 
was not at all unpleasant to feel his cock sliding across my flesh.

But I knew that rubbing his cock on my belly was not his ultimate goal.

Soon enough he placed his cock head against the lips of my tender and youthful pussy 
lips. Even though I had not yet reached my fourteenth birthday, my short time in that terrible 
place had taught me well about the ways of fucking.

His cock head pressed against the lips of my pussy and then he parted the tender and 
wrinkled lips with his fingers as he slid his cock inside of me.

The entire length of the swarthy monk's cock shoved up into my pussy and I felt the walls 
of my vagina struggling to keep from bursting at the seams.

Since his cock was so very wide, it felt as though my pussy walls wanted to press together, 
but they could not because of the vicious and deep intrusion.

And then the bulky and short monk began to pull his cock out of me. Before I even knew 
what was happening he was fucking my pussy.

In and out of my pussy he was sliding his hard cock.

When he pushed in he seemed to be separating the walls of my cunt and then when he 
pulled his cock back out he was allowing the walls of my cunt to press back together.

My poor pussy simply seemed to want to press together. If only it could have been given a
rest and not had to suffer the vicious thrusts of the hard cock.

But, there was a strange pleasure that I always felt when I was having the cock shoved in 
and out of me.

My cunt walls would tingle and I would feel the juices churning hotly in my body.

By that time I already had an indentation on the cheeks of my behind because of the cold 
and irregular stones that made up the floor of the little cell.

But then I was surprised when the swarthy monk rolled me onto my side. He did not miss a
stroke in his hot fucking manner, even though I was lying on my side.

He continued to ram in and out of me and he grabbed me around the waist so that my 
body was crushed up against his.

At that point I did not understand why he had put me in that strange position, but soon it 
became clear.

There was a strange feeling at my ass cheeks. Actually the strange feeling was at the crack 
that separated my ass cheeks.

Something very thick and firm was pressing at that crack. And then I realized that the tall, 
blond monk was pressing his cock head against my ass crack.

He was rubbing it up and down against my ass crack as if he were searching for my ass 
hole. Then he seemed to find my ass hole and he pressed inward and shoved hard.

I gasped as his thick mushroom cock head slipped through the knot of my anal opening. 
He only had that much of his cock inside of my bottom hole, but already I could feel the 
tearing pain that made me feel that I was going to be ripped apart.

When the swarthy monk in front of me pushed forward into my pussy once more, I 
realized that he was pushing me further down onto the hard cock that was up my ass hole.

And when the swarthy monk pulled back out of my pussy so that only his cock head was 
inside of my cunt lips, I could feel the other monk kneading and rubbing at my ass cheeks in 
hopes that he could make me relax even more.

Constantly the pressure continued from both sides. It was impossible for me to relax my 
bottom because I was being pulled and tugged in such an abnormal manner.

At least it was not a manner that I had considered normal up until that time.

However, since then I have discovered that many of the good fathers who desire my 
services will often settle for the nether hole when my pussy is occupied. And at times there are
those who will prefer the bottom hole to the standard route!

With the short monk pushing from the front and the tall priest working diligently at my 
back, I eventually felt the wider base of the blond man's cock pressing against my tightly 
knotted anal opening.

Then I could feel his juice-filled sacs pressing against the backs of my legs and I could feel 
the hair at the base of his cock pressing against the rounded portion of my bottom.

Even though I had been submitted to all sorts of batterings and whippings that involved 
my bottom, the flesh of that portion of my body was still sensitive and continues to be very 
delicate and softly white.

Once his cock was all the way inside of my ass hole, he began to pull it out and to fuck my 
ass hole in exactly the same way that his friend was fucking my pussy hole.

But each time that his cock shoved into my tender and inexperienced ass hole I felt it 
ramming against the flesh of my insides and I truly felt that it was going to shove into my 
insides and squash them all together.

Then I realized what was happening to me and I would be less than honest if I did not say 
that it fascinated me as it was happening and that it got me quite excited.

Each time that the man shoved his cock into my ass it was pressing against a membrane 
that was deep inside of my body.

Meanwhile each time that the other man pressed his cock into my pussy it was pushing 
down on the pussy flesh.

When the two monks pressed into my body at the same time then I could feel the two 
cock heads slamming against each other, with that thin membrane in the middle.

The two of them were not timing their moves together. So often there would be strange 
affects caused by the two cocks that were using my body at the same time.

At one point they were just a little off from stroking at the same time and what was 
happening was that my insides were being shuffled back and forth.

The blond monk would shove his cock up my ass and I would feel my body pressed 
forward, (by that I also mean all of the insides of my body). And then the dark monk would 
shove his cock into my pussy and I could feel my body being shoved backwards.

But then they somehow got the same timing again and each time that the two cocks 
shoved into me at the same time I was sure that they were going to bore a hole right through 
the middle of my body.

And yet, I must admit to this. Each time that both of them pulled out of my body and I was
left with only the heads of the two cocks inside of me, I felt a terrible emptiness and a 
hollowness.

Back and forth and in and out.

And then I felt the cock that was in my pussy begin to slap against my tender flesh. He was
splashing out fluid and hitting the sides of my pussy flesh in a wild and vicious manner.

It seemed 'as if my pussy was only trying to get control of the cock.

It was as if my cunt walls were trying to grasp onto the cock and keep it still. But due to all 
of the slipperiness in my flaming hole, the walls of my vagina were unable to do anything of 
the kind.

But they were moving around as if they had a life of their own.

And I realized something at that moment that I had never realized before. As I was having 
my orgasm of wild delight, my ass hole was vibrating and opening and closing.

I have been aware of this sensation ever since and it has interested me. But it was on that 
instance when I was first buggered up the ass that I realized that my ass hole and my pussy 
really were very close.

Actually since that time I have discovered that my entire body is one unit. Many of the 
men who have abused me have only been interested in my pussy and they have only 
expressed interest in their own cocks.

It has seemed to me that those men have been missing a great deal of pleasure. Even at 
the young age when I was first introduced to both the joys and the terrors of sex I began to 
become aware of the way in which my entire body reacted all together.

When my pussy tensed and relaxed, I also felt my ass hole tense and relax at exactly the 
same time.

The reason that this was of particular interest on this occasion was that the orgasm that I 
was experiencing in my pussy was enough to affect the blond monk who was fucking my ass 
hole so that he began to release the hot sexual fluids that had been building up in his body.

I could feel the ring of my anal knot clamping and unclamping around the hard and thick 
shaft of his cock. And then I realized that my ass hole was sucking the juice out of this man's 
body.

Soon the head of his cock was flaring up and slapping against the insides of my ass 
cavern.

I shivered all over as I felt both cocks fucking me at the same time. Although it had been 
brutal and horrible, I had become more familiar with the strange itching that was deep inside 
of my pussy flesh. I knew that this particular attack by the two monks had done a great deal 
toward easing the itching that was up inside of me.

For the time being, that is.

I was discovering at that time that the little flaming feeling that is so deep inside of me 
that I cannot reach it, never goes away completely. Rather it remains there.

Sometimes it will ease up a little bit, but like an addiction for poppies or for strong drink it 
is something that only gets worse with time.

Now the time has come where I can be fucked by a big and stiff cock for a long period of 
time and still go away yearning for more.

But, perhaps it is not that I am yearning for more of the stiff cock. Perhaps it is that I am 
yearning for something different!

I imagine this fantasy and I can only hope that those of you who may someday come into 
possession of this manuscript will be patient with my fantasy.

In my fantasy I dream that there is another way of having sex. I dream that there is another
way of having a man stick his hard cock into my body.

My dream is that the touch of the man is loving. I dream that he is enjoying the feel of my 
body and the way that my body fits with his, and that he is not simply using my body as a 
receptacle for sperm.

And my dream is that he is tender and that he holds me in his arms even after he has 
finished spilling the juices of his body.

I know that these fantasies are foolish and I do not even know if such things exist in the 
world.

They must! I feel that they must and that that is what makes life worth living. For, if I 
thought that my life would never advance beyond this point and beyond this miserable 
moment, then I should see no point at all in continuing with the vain exercise that is called 
living.

But I know that I have not yet lived for nineteen years and I feel certain that fate might yet 
have a chance to be kind to me.

There is another side to the conjunction of male and female and I can only hope that I will 
get a chance to experience it.

But, then again, as I think about it I realize that I have experienced some pleasant 
moments while I have been here in the convent life. Since I am trying to be perfectly honest in
this journal, I must not preclude those things.

Now it is time for me to hide this journal back into my mattress so that I can return to the 
meditation that I was supposed to be doing during this time.

When I write in this journal once more I will definitely try to recall a pleasant incident.





CHAPTER FOUR


And here it is the very next day!

I have been so excited by the notion of writing about a pleasant incident in my stay 
among the religious order that I knew I could not wait another day before returning to this 
journal.

This journal has been so wonderful for me that I do not want it to end too soon. Therefore 
I have been rationing out the work on it.

After all, I have not experienced too much of life. I have never travelled or met fascinating 
people. As you know if you have already read this far in my journal, I have only experienced 
the cloistered life and the brutality that goes along with membership in my particular religious
order..

Then again, if you have read this far and seen the misery and the sexual abuse that I was 
put through, then you deserve to hear of something that was pleasant.

When I decided that I would relate a pleasant circumstance in my experiences, I knew that 
I would have to go all the way back to the beginning of my stay and tell you about the young 
nun who was sent to tend my wounds.

Forgive me for not telling the stories in their proper order for I am certain that my 
experience with the nun that I am about to relate, occurred before my experience with the two
monks who used my pussy and my bottom holes at the same time.

This is merely the journal of an unfortunate peasant girl and it cannot pretend to be 
anything else.

I shall call the nun in my story Sister Hope, although you must understand that that was 
not her real name.

As I write this, even though I feel the hope and joy that is welling up within me at finally 
telling some of these stories, even if I am only telling them to the blank pages that are before 
me, I am still aware of the fear that is inside of my heart.

I know that at any moment the prioress may open the door and see what I am doing. If 
she does that she will see to it that I am punished severely and I have no doubt, considering 
the things that I have related on these pages and the views that I have dared to state, that my 
punishment would last for many years.

But I do not wish to see anyone else punished along with me. Therefore I will simply refer 
to the nun in this incident as Sister Hope and I will keep her real and beloved name a guarded
secret deep in my heart of hearts.

This actually occurred on my second day behind the convent walls. After the group of 
monks had all used my pussy on that first day and had then continued to brutalize my body 
with leather whips and straps as well as bonds that were attached to all parts of me, I was 
dragged back to my cell.

There I was left, hungry and faint. I remember opening my eyes and seeing that there was 
no light at all streaming through the little high window and then I remember that the next 
time I opened my eyes there was daylight through the window.

I know that the second time that I opened my eyes it was because I heard the sound of 
someone entering my cell. I tried to lift my head so that I could look up and I found that I 
could not even move that far.

All of my aches and pains had aches and pains.

But then I looked up and I saw two faces. I could not tell from the expressions on the two 
faces if I was in heaven or in hell.

For when I looked at the bitter and wrinkled visage of the prioress I knew that it looked 
like the face of Cerberus, the guardian of the gates of Hades. She had a loathed melancholy of
blackest midnight born.

But right next to her was an angel, a nymph, with a face that was light and joy. Although 
her lips were just as tightly clamped shut as the lips of the prioress and although she was 
wearing the same black cloak and the same black robes as the prioress, I could see that she 
was a lovely and a young woman.

"And if I give thee honor due, Mirth admit me of thy crew, to live with her and live with 
thee in unreproved pleasures, free, To see the lark begin his flight, and singing, startle the dull 
night!"

Sister Hope was a thing of beauty and it was fortunate for me that the prioress was a very 
self-satisfied woman who never even noticed the fact that I was staring up into the bright face
of Sister Hope.

I was still naked on the bed, but I was too aware of my pains to worry about my nudity.

"You shall salve her wounds and bathe her and then you shall see to it that she gets the 
proper robes. That is all, sister!" said the bitter prioress.

"Very good, my lady." the young sister mumbled, and even her voice was as sweet as 
honey.

When the prioress was gone and I was left alone with the beautiful nun I suddenly became
aware of my nakedness. After all, I imagined that this young nun would be very beautiful when
she had her habit off and I did not dare to compare my body to hers.

"What is your name?"

"Sister Hope. But we cannot talk." She went about her work methodically and yet there 
was something more than method to her movements.

When she was rubbing the salve on my bruised nipples, her fingers seemed to linger and 
draw little circles around and around my breasts.

I was able to completely forget about the fact that my nipples had been bleeding just the 
previous evening. It was more than the salve, it was the soothing and cool touch of Sister 
Hope.

As she worked on my other nipple, I sighed with delight and she looked down into my 
face.

"You must tell me how long you have been here! I need to know what will happen to me!" 
I said without a real desperation in my voice.

"You are very beautiful!" said the lovely young nun. "Do not worry about your fate. 
Everything will be decided for you!" She kept looking nervously towards the door and then 
she whispered, "If they catch us talking we will both be punished for it!"

At that time I was only beginning to learn about the brutality of the punishments that 
went on within my religious order. But I certainly did not want this beautiful girl to be a victim 
of any sort of punishment.

Her hands gently turned me over on the rough mattress and then she was massaging the 
cheeks of my behind. I could feel her working the salve into the cuts.

Most of them were just flesh wounds that had not even broken the skin and the ones that 
had been bleeding on the previous night had long since dried up and begun to scab over.

But the feeling of the girl's long fingers as they spread the soothing and cooling salve over
the bottom of my ass cheeks was so delightful that I relaxed for the first time since I had 
entered the convent walls.

She even jabbed her long finger into my bottom hole in a playful manner. Now that I think
back on that incident I imagine that she was trying to prepare me for the buggering that was 
inevitable to a newcomer.

Kneading on my flesh I felt a thrill coursing through my body and I knew that there was 
juice in my pussy because of the tender contact by the young girl.

Turning me back onto my back, she poured some of the salve onto my pussy lips. I knew 
that this would be more than I could bear.

She began to rub on the pink pussy lips and she was working the salve in. I will admit that 
I had felt a great burning pain in my pussy. Aside from having lost my virginity on the 
previous day, I had also been whipped with a sharp leather whip right on the lips of my cunt.

Now Sister Hope was rubbing the oil into the battered flesh of my pink and hairless cunt 
lips.

I could actually feel the oil seeping into my flesh and I shivered a little. I cannot explain the
reason why I was shivering, but I know that I felt a certain sexual anticipation.

If the prioress had walked in at that moment, everything still would have appeared to be 
perfectly innocent.

After all, this young nun had been given instructions to rub salve and oil into the wounded
parts of my body so that I could recover from the tortures that I had been through.

Of all of the parts of my body, the one that had been the most abused was my pussy. 
Therefore it was only natural that she should be rubbing and paying attention to the delicate 
and silky lips of my pussy.

Her fingers were so warming as they rubbed little circles on the pussy lips. As she kept on 
rubbing, she seemed to be pulling the lips apart and her fingers seemed to be digging further 
into my soft and supple flesh.

I knew that the tender pink flesh inside of my body was getting moist and I could feel the 
warm and pearly liquid that was trickling along the interior flesh of my body.

How wonderful it was.

And even the pains on the inside of my legs were beginning to disappear. Apparently the 
muscles in my legs were tightened because of the vicious and brutalizing attacks that I had 
undergone the previous day.

But as I felt the warmth of Sister Hope's touch at the love slit that was between my legs, I 
was able to stretch my legs out wider.

When I looked down at her I could see that she was looking up at me. I remembered the 
admonition that we were not permitted to talk to each other and so I bit on my lip to keep 
from expressing the joy that I felt at her wonderful contact.

But then she whispered, "You have a beautiful pussy!"

This surprised me because she was the one who had told me that we were not permitted 
to speak. And it also surprised me because it was such a new and unusual compliment for me 
to receive.

Actually I was more than a little self-conscious over the hairless pussy lips that I had.

All of the monks who had raped my pussy the previous day had had great hairy patches. 
Even those men who did not have hair on their chests or legs had hair at the bases of their 
cocks.

I figured then that women must have hair at their pussy lips when they grew older as well 
and I realized that it was only my youth that made my cunt lips so bare.

Sister Hope was still running her fingers up and down the lips of my pussy, but she also 
slipped her fingers in and out of the tightly clinging lips.

That action did help to soothe the burning and ripping feeling in my pussy, and at the 
same time it helped to make me very hot and excited.

"I would imagine," I began slowly in a whisper that was no bolder than hers. "I would 
imagine that you must have a beautiful pussy."

The young woman who was massaging my body blushed.

That blush made me much bolder than I ever thought I could be. I suppose that it was also
a combination of the terrible things that I had been through. The presence of this beautiful 
and affectionate girl was making me feel so wonderful that I could not control myself.

"Wouldn't you let me see your pussy?" I whispered anxiously under my breath.

Sister Hope looked distracted. She did not look at me directly as she continued to rub and 
play with my pussy.

Yes! By that point she was no longer just rubbing salve and oil into my wounds. She was 
actually playing with my pussy and she was exciting me in a manner that was completely 
unexpected.

I had played with my own pussy in that same way, but that was always under the blankets 
in my own bedroom and with very small movements so that my little sisters would not catch 
me at it.

Now this luscious young nun was rubbing her fingers in and out and easing away the pain 
of the many fuckings that I had received the previous day.

Apparently, she did not wish to answer me.

Instead of replying to my request, she moved her lips to my pussy lips. Opening her mouth
she pressed her moist tongue against the wrinkled flesh of my clasped pussy lips.

She did not even have to use her fingers to spread my cunt lips apart. She managed to 
spread me open simply using her tongue and then with a deft movement she slid her tongue 
between my cunt lips.

I could feel that my cunt lips were clasping and grasping around her tongue in much the 
same manner that they had been grasping around the cocks that had invaded me the 
previous day.

She seemed to be struggling as though she could hardly move her tongue at all in the 
tightly clinging pussy.

But then she began to make little circles with her tongue so that her smooth and moist 
tongue was pressing down against the flesh on all the different sides of my pussy.

I realized then how very responsive my pussy flesh was. As her tongue pressed down 
against one part of my cunt flesh I could feel that very same part of my cunt flesh press back 
against the tongue.

It became a little game that was confined to the tight pussy slit.

Sister Hope was pressing against the flesh on the left side of my vagina and then that flesh
on the left side of my vagina would press back against the invading tongue.

Her tongue seemed to be struggling to get a hold of something inside of my cunt, but it 
seemed like it was too slippery for her to grasp onto anything.

And then I realized just what it was that she was trying to do.

She found the secret little spot inside of my pussy. That little spot that always managed to 
send chills right through my body.

And when she knew that she had found the right spot, she began to flick her tongue back 
and forth and back and forth across it.

She never actually pressed down against that wonderful bit of flesh that worked such 
magic in my pussy. But it was as though she was tickling me with her tongue.

Yes! She really had worked magic as far as my aches and pains were concerned. By that 
point I was not feeling any pains at all. I was not feeling anything but the wonderful tickling of
her tongue against the moist flesh of my pussy.

And that sensation was not limited to my pussy. As she continued to flick her tongue back 
and forth in my vagina, I could feel the thrill of the contact running through my body.

I could feel it in my nipples and I could feel it on the scalp of my head and on the soles of 
my feet.

All of these spots were being erotically stimulated. Once again I was learning that my body
was all one and that the enjoyment and delights that one part of my body might receive 
would serve well for all of the other parts of my body.

Then, as if she were tired of the flicking of her tongue, the young nun who was kneeling 
between my legs began to actually shove her tongue up into my pussy.

When she had her tongue as far into my cunt as she could possibly get it, she pulled her 
tongue back out of my body.

In and out. She was actually fucking me with her tongue.

I knew that there were no more aches and there was no more tension in my legs as I 
spread them out as wide as they could possibly go.

Sister Hope was fucking me with her tongue.

When I began to moan out in delight, I bit down on my lower lip. The girl had made it 
clear to me that we would suffer great punishments if we were caught talking to each other. I 
could not imagine what would happen to us if we were caught in our present position.

And then I felt a great surging in my pussy. The flesh of my vagina all seemed to collapse 
around the invading tongue.

Without even realizing what I was doing, I pressed my legs together and the insides of my 
thighs were crushing down against the sides of the girl's head.

I could feel the wonderfully soft blonde hair that was rubbing against the insides of my 
thighs.

Rubbing my legs up and down against the sides of her head, I realized that my legs had 
pushed back the headgear that she had been wearing. Her cowl was pulled back so that some
of the wispy blonde curls were exposed and were rubbing against the tender flesh of my legs.

But the main action was going on inside of my body.

The girl's tongue was still all the way up my pussy and I could feel the walls of my vagina 
undulating and writhing in reaction to the intrusion of the moist and soft tongue.

The juices were seeping out of me and I could feel her tongue flexing and unflexing in 
reaction to those juices.

Sister Hope was actually trying to lick up all of the pearly and delicate pussy cream that 
was drooling from my body.

When she pulled her tongue finally from my slit, I could feel a dribbling little bit of my own
juice streaming down out of my cunt and oozing into the crack of flesh that led to my ass 
hole.

Apparently the young nun did not miss a thing. I immediately felt her tongue dart out at 
that bit of my flesh and I felt her lick up the drooling pussy juice.

I was lying on the hard mattress and I had my eyes closed.

By the time that I opened my eyes I was alone in the cell. I looked around, but there was 
no sign of the fact that Sister Hope had even been there.

My body definitely felt a little better. I knew that it had been aching with the pain and 
torment that I had been through the previous day.

I felt certain that Sister Hope must have been there to ease my pain. But then I began to 
have doubts that she had actually been there.

At that time I began to think that I had actually dreamed the entire thing!

Perhaps I had just woken up at that moment after dreaming that the luscious young nun 
had come into my cell and had licked at my pussy.

But I stopped myself in my thoughts. I knew that I couldn't have dreamed the thing 
because I had never even imagined such a thing before in my life.

I had no idea at that time that a woman could fuck another woman's pussy with her 
tongue! So how could that notion have entered a dream of mine?

And then I proved to myself that it was no dream. I reached down to my pussy lips and I 
felt moisture.

It was true that there had been times when I had moistened my own pussy and even my 
bedclothes and sheets while I was asleep and dreaming of sexual things. But in this case I 
could tell that the moisture was not solely the moisture of my pussy juicings.

I could tell that there was some moisture there that had been left by the girl's wet mouth.

The girl had been, anxious to lick at my pussy, and I knew that it had not been a simple 
dream.

I got off of the bed and found that the aches and pains really were a little better. Although
I was in no condition to dance a jig, at least I did not feel as wracked with agony as I had on 
the previous day.

It was certainly a credit to Sister Hope's fingers that I felt as good as I did.

When I heard a sound at the door to my cell I leaped back toward the blanket, aware that I
was still completely naked.

But then I saw that it was only Sister Hope. She had a black habit with her and she gave it 
to me so that I could put it on.

I attempted to smile at her, but her expression remained the same. I could see that there 
was a glimmering of joy behind the cold look on her face, but she had been trained in that 
place to hide her pleasures.

As I put on the habit, I began to speak, but she held her finger up to her lips as if to tell me
to be quiet.

I wanted to ask this girl all of the things that I needed to know about life behind the 
convent walls. I was frightened and her attentions had helped to soothe me.

At that time she did not look more like sixteen and I had a strange impression that she 
had entered the convent in much the same way that I had, that she was forced to join the 
order.

When I looked at the beautiful lips of the girl, I wanted to press her to my body and to kiss
her. But she turned and with the rustle of the soft fabric she disappeared out of my cell.

I was left alone and I was never again to speak another word to the beautiful young sister.

And yet, during my first weeks at the convent the memory of the wonderful sexual joys 
that I had shared with Sister Hope remained with me.

The kindness of the beautiful young nun did a great deal to help me to survive the 
torments that the others in the convent continued to heap upon me.

I hoped that I would get another chance to be together with this young nun. But when I 
learned the rules of the convent I was horrified.

Nuns were not allowed to speak to each other. I had to go through the entire day only 
able to communicate requests to monks or to the prioress.

And since the place was so large, even hoping for a glimpse of the lovely Sister Hope 
seemed like too much.

The monks were all disguised behind their large hoods that hid their faces, so that I never 
even knew the identities of the men who were giving me orders or abusing me.

Even though the nuns faces were visible, since we were all instructed to walk around facing
the ground and it was considered a breach of the rules to look right up ahead of you, it was 
impossible to really be aware of who was passing by.

Of course it was not easy to ignore the natural curious feelings that always welled up 
inside of me.

Sometimes I would try to glance up and see the faces of the nuns who were passing me in 
the cold and damp halls of the old brick building.

Usually no one would notice what I had done because most of the times the nuns who 
were passing me would keep their eyes averted and just look down at my sweeping robe and 
my black slippers.

Sometimes I would look up at the face of the nun passing and realize that it was one of 
the head nuns, the vicious and brutal assistants to the prioress. These were the same women 
who had ravaged and used the body of the defenseless young Henri on the day that the two 
of us had first been brought into the convent.

When I would look up and see one of these women, I would often get caught in the act. 
Then I would have to face a punishment for the sin of being curious.

Most of the time that punishment consisted of receiving five to ten lashes of the whip 
across the back.

These lashes were always given out by the head nuns and sometimes by the prioress 
herself.

And then there were the two or three occasions when I would pass in the hall and look up 
and see the face of Sister Hope. But she never saw me on those occasions.

Our eyes never had a chance to meet.

In the chapel or at meals, I would sometimes see her passing by or I would be passing her 
by. But we would still never get a chance to even nod at each other.

If we had nodded, then one of the others might have seen us and caught us at what we 
were doing.

But I still had tire memory of that one wonderful experience that the two of us had shared.
Even when my pussy was being brutalized I could feel calm and contented if I remembered 
the wonderful way that Sister Hope's tongue had licked in and out of the delicate and moist 
flesh.

And then there was the experience that managed to destroy that memory! There was the 
day that managed to shatter the wonderful calm that I felt each time that I thought of Sister 
Hope.

We were all gathered into the chapel and the prioress was standing up at the front of the 
grand room. Since the light was glowing in golden from the stained glass window behind her, 
she looked like a haloed being instead of looking like the devil that she was.

"Sisters! I am forced to inflict a very severe punishment on a member of this order! Very 
severe indeed!

"Her crime was so wicked and so hateful that I cannot even speak of it and yet you all 
know my sanctity well enough to know that there is no questioning the revulsion that I feel on
the subject of wicked crimes!"

And then a nude form was led into the chapel.

I immediately recognized it as Sister Hope. Her lovely young face was still just as beautiful 
although I could see a scar right under her left eye.

And I finally got to see the girl's naked body. It was just as delicious and just as perfect as I
had imagined it to be.

Her breasts were perfectly rounded and they looked like ripe fruits with rosy red nipples at
the ends. Her hips were also well-formed and her tapered waist was in perfect proportion.

The flesh of the girl was so white and delicate and it looked like it had been pulled tautly 
over the framework of her deliciously rounded body.

Her hair was cut short, since all of the nuns had their hair cut very short underneath the 
cowls that they wore.

But I could see that her hair was wispy and soft even though it had not had the benefit of 
the attention that most of the women on the outside would give to their hair.

Sister Hope was in a terrible situation.

Her arms were strapped over a bar that was like an ox-yoke. It was a heavy wooden beam 
that was behind her neck and then across both of her shoulders.

And down from that bar were hanging metal chains with spikes in them.

There was another chain that was around the beautiful blonde girl's neck and she was 
being pulled along by that chain.

She was trying to move slowly because each time she took a step the spikes on the chains 
slapped against her back.

I could see that the luscious flesh of her naked back was already scarred up with little 
pricks and nicks from the spikes on the chains.

It was something that I could scarcely look at. Her skin was so beautiful and soft and 
creamy in its whiteness. And yet it was all marked up by the little red marks that were' made 
by the spikes in the chains that were dangling from the ox-yoke.

The girl's face looked all puffy and she looked as if she had been crying for a long time. 
She seemed resigned to her fate and it was as though she was all cried out by that time.

And then they took the bar that was across her shoulders and they attached it to another 
bar that was on the wall. The girl was bent a little bit forward and then they brought out a big 
whip.

It was the largest whip that they had in the convent. I knew that because I had been 
through all of the whips by that time.

But then they attached little barbs to that whip. They looked like little fish-hooks.

And then the prioress herself took the whip. We were all made to stand and face the 
sinner, (for that was what they called the young and lovely Sister Hope), as the prioress raised 
the whip up over her shoulder and slashed it across in a wide arc.

There was a silent prayer that I said for one moment, asking that the fish-hooks might get 
caught in the old ladies garment and rip it right off of her.

But there was no such prayer answered at that time. The whip whistled its way through the
air and then the whistling of the leather was cut short when it slashed down against Sister 
Hope's naked flesh.

The silence of our sanctuary was broken by the loud and horrible scream of the lovely 
blonde nun!

What was her crime? I was left to wonder about that. Perhaps she had been caught licking 
at the pussy of one of the other nuns in much the same way that she had licked at mine.

I would never know.

When Sister Hope screamed out in agony I fainted. That was my only escape from 
watching the horrible spectacle that was going on in front of me.

The next thing that I knew, I was lying on my lumpy straw mattress in my cold brick cell. 
There was no one there reviving me or comforting me and I would not have been at all 
surprised if I had faced some sort of punishment for having fainted at the torture scene.

I have no idea what happened to Sister Hope. There was no one that I could ask. And I am 
sure that none of the other nuns would have known what had happened to her.

But for the next six months that I was there I never saw Sister Hope's face again. I prayed 
that she had been sent off somewhere else because I knew that the only other option would 
have been that she was tortured to death.

If only the true authorities of the church could know what the insane priests and nuns of 
this order are prone to do, they would certainly punish them and set me free.

For I have been here long enough to realize that this particular region is governed by a 
perverse bishop and that he is the one responsible for the ways of these religious orders.

Someone must save us all from the mad passions of that bishop.

But, I have written enough for today and my hand grows tired. May this book stay safe 
until I have another chance to record my stories here!





CHAPTER FIVE


I have just looked over the things that I wrote the last time that I had a chance to work on this 
journal and I offer an apology to these pages.

After having promised to write about something pleasant that had happened to me while 
in this convent, I ended up writing a story that ended in misery and torment.

But, then again, there has not been anything in this place that has managed to remain 
pleasant throughout my stay here.

Even though the experience that I had shared with Sister Hope had been so beautiful and 
so, dare I say, sexually satisfying, that poor girl ended in tragedy.

What can we do when we are all victims in this terrible place?

It has taken me a long time to figure out just what they expect of us and just what it is that
they believe in.

Actually it was simple to know that they did not approve of sexual pleasures and yet I still 
had to wonder why the nuns had been permitted to use the body of the fourteen-year-old 
boy that I had seen them abusing.

But after a time I realized that there were grades of people inside of this convent.

While I was still an initiate then I was not permitted any privileges and then when I was 
made a nun, I still had very few.

The head nuns, the women who assist the prioress, are allowed all sorts of things. But it 
took me a while to realize that even they were not permitted any pleasures.

That was the only thing that this little sect was so violent about; the subject of pleasures! 
Pleasures were not at all permissible.

That was why the nuns who had used Henri's body had been so vicious and violent about 
it. They were rationalizing the sexual pleasures that they were getting, by calling them 
punishments.

They were punishing the boy and the monks were punishing me. It is under the guise of 
punishment that much is done in these convents!

When I saw the wanton look on the face of the prioress who was whipping Sister Hope, I 
knew that she was deriving her pleasure, (and yes I do mean her sexual pleasure), from the 
pain and the humiliation that she was inflicting on the girl.

All of the acts of brutality that I have witnessed here have been the same. I see the person 
who is brutalizing deriving pleasure.

That is why, when I have been sent to service the monks and the priests, I have never had 
one of them slide his cock gently into my body. Generally they have rammed their cocks into 
me and they have shut their eyes as they slammed and jabbed at my insides.

I have been taught that that is my function here as a nun!

I must service the monks. Because they discovered that I was bright they decided to teach 
me to read and write so that I could do copying for the priests.

That is a high honor because most of the girls only do sewing jobs and a lot of scrubbing.

But, the notion that they have of servicing the priests, also includes the sexual servicing of 
the priests.

It is not unusual for me to be sitting at a desk and taking down the words that a priest is 
reciting to me and then suddenly he will turn and look at me with a glint in his eyes and he 
will order me to my knees.

As soon as I am on my knees he will ram his thick cock into my mouth and shove it in and 
out until he shoots his gism down my hot throat.

Then he will pull his cock out of my mouth and stuff it back into his robe, still sticky from 
my mouth, and he will return to reciting to me and I will return to writing it down as if there 
had been no interruption at all.

This has been going on for such a long time that I no longer even think about it.

But, now let me write more about the progress that I have made up to this point. Do I dare
to call it progress? I think not.

I am merely telling the story of the things that I have had to undergo while I have been in 
this religious order. The fact that I have been moved from one spot to another can hardly be 
called progress in any sense of the word.

Simply so that my story will be completely clear to you, I should tell you that I am no 
longer at the Convent D'If. Although that was the convent where I had originally been 
brought, after one year I was moved from there.

The new convent seemed even more ominous. But first I should write about the way that I 
ended up at the new place.

After I had been at the Convent D'lf for one year I was made a full member of the order. 
This was a joke since I had never wished to be a member of the order in the first place.

Each of the new nuns was married to the church in an elaborate ceremony. We were each 
dressed in white and we paraded down the center aisle of the chapel.

There were flowers all over and as one of the tall priests rose to recite some latin over us, I 
actually felt holy. Perhaps it was just the golden light that was shining in through the stained 
glass window.

I must say that the ceremony in which we participated was beautiful and highly moving.

But then all of the new nuns were paraded into the large hall that is right next to the 
chapel.

"Remove all of your clothing!" The prioress's voice rang out in the silence of the room.

And then that sound was followed by the shuffling sound of fabric on fabric. When I had 
taken off my habit, I stood in just the black stockings that were clinging to my legs.

By that time I had just the beginnings of some wispy hairs at my pussy lips and my breasts 
had grown amazingly in the course of that year.

Even without the aid of a mirror, simply from looking down at myself, I could tell that I was
becoming a beautiful young woman.

By that time also I was quite used to being naked. I was always being ordered to strip and 
it hardly seemed to matter who was present anymore.

If a man had asked me to lie down and spread my legs and then toss my feet up over his 
shoulder, I would have quickly complied.

That was the only way that I had been taught to behave. I still do not know any other way 
in my adult life, although I certainly recall that in the outside world, that was not the way that 
females reacted.

Peeling the stockings down my legs as the other girls were peeling their black stockings 
down their legs, I was aware that there was a whole group of people there.

They were pacing back and forth and inspecting us. I knew that the prioress was among 
the group and I could tell that there were some priests there as welt.

The sounds of the rustling of clothes stopped and all of the girls were naked. Now the only
sound that was left was the echoing of the shoes that were clicking on the slick marble floor.

For this chamber was like a completely different world from the cold grey stone of my cell. 
This was a grand place that was fit for a prince.

There were high white arches that sloped gracefully and there was a high ceiling that was 
two flights high. The ceiling was all inlaid with beautiful carvings that were of all different 
colors and of great intensity.

I was very aware of the clicking as the priests moved about around us. I could sense that 
there was something very important about their business and that it would have great 
meaning to us.

"This one!" I heard them say and then, out of the corner of my eye, I could see the prioress
grab one of the naked girls by the shoulder.

And then I could feel a hot breath on my neck. I remained as I was with my eyes looking 
down at the feet of the man who was standing in front of me.

He moved in so close that I could feel his body rubbing against my naked breasts and yet I
still did not dare to look up at his face.

I could tell that he was turning away from me as he asked, "How is this one?"

The prioress's cold voice said, "She has tasted the whip enough times for her impudence!"

And then one of the other priests said, "That one is most pleasing!"

The man who had been standing right in front of me, simply said, "This one!"

Then I felt the prioress's rough hands on my naked nipple as she pulled me out of the 
group of newly initiated nuns.

They must have spent another half an hour among the group, quibbling over the girls as if
they were choosing hens in the market.

Finally, they only took four of us.

I do not speak vainly when I say that the three other naked girls who stood with me as 
having been chosen for our unknown fate were the three loveliest girls there.

It became apparent to me later on that they had made us strip naked because they 
wanted only the most beautiful and the most perfect girls for their purposes.

When only the four of us were left in the room with the little group of people, they began 
to prod us and check us out very carefully.

One of the priests pulled my hands behind my back and another one felt at my nipples. 
Apparently he was trying to see just how much abuse and pain my nipples could take.

First he rubbed his thumb lightly over my nipples so that they would grow firm and erect. 
When they were sticking up long and hard and facing him, he dug his fingernails into my 
nipples and he began to pull.

I thought that he was going to walk all the way across the room, while still holding onto 
my nipple and pulling it out of shape.

Since the other man was holding onto me tightly behind my back, I was really being 
ripped apart and I wondered how much more of it I would have to take before my breast 
would rip right off of my body.

When that priest let go of my breast, another priest pried open my mouth. He was running
his fingers up along the inside of my lips and he was pulling at my gums and at my teeth.

This was similar to the way that I had seen men at the market place checking over the 
quality of horses.

He also looked in my eyes and that sent a chill up my spine. I felt threatened and I couldn't
bear the thought that they might hurt me in my eye.

Then two of the priests lifted up my legs and spread them apart as if I were a wishbone.

This was a position that I had actually gotten used to over the year that I had been in the 
convent.

But they were not preparing me for sex that particular time. My cunt lips were spread and 
this priest was looking inside of my pussy. He even leaned close enough so that he could 
smell the aroma of my cunt.

And then they dropped me on the floor and they went on to the next girl.

Of course I was curious to watch, but I knew that that was considered a punishable 
offense, so I just kept my eyes down on the ground and I assumed that they were doing the 
same thing to the other three girls that they had done to me.

Occasionally I would look out of the corner of my eye and I would see them inspecting the
other girls. I was just lucky that they did not catch me trying to catch a glimpse of what was 
going on.

After they had finished they just left the three of us standing there and waiting.

Then they returned to us and they pulled one girl away and said, "Get your clothes and get
out of here. You are not good enough for the bishop!"

That was the first time that I had gotten any hint of what we were going to be used for 
and of the reason why they had chosen the three of us. We were obviously going to service 
the bishop.

It was less than an hour later that we were gathered together and ready to travel. They 
took me away from Convent D'If and I never saw that prioress or those grey walls again.

But things change and they stay the same. I have to listen to a new prioress and I have to 
stay within grey walls that look the same.

But then, after having been locked up in that convent for a year, it was at least a little 
excitement.

Yes! Even though I was terrified about the unknown fate, I was also excited.

Things can get awfully dull with the same stained and faded grey brick walls around you 
and with the same cocks being pulled out of the same robes for you to suck on.

I was anxiously anticipating the ride in the coach. Even if there was no chance for escape I 
was imagining that we would be riding through the countryside where my home was located.

At least it would be one more chance to look at my home. But those vicious people would 
not even give, me that much satisfaction.

The windows of the coach were covered over completely, without so much as a crack 
through which to peek.

Once we were riding along inside of the coach, we could not even hear any of the noises 
of the outside world and we could not even tell if it was night and day.

I knew that we had not ridden that long in the coach when the ride came to an end. From 
what I knew and had heard at the convent it was only this one small district in France that was 
under the domain of the particular bishop who ran these sexual orders.

But once the coach doors opened I was inside of a convent and I did not even know where
I was.

When I had been dragged into the Convent D'lf the previous year I had been a bright 
young girl and I had known the directions of travel. I knew north from south and east from 
west.

But during the coach ride that I had just been through, I had no idea what direction we 
had travelled.

We were ushered into a courtyard and the three of us were in our habits. When the priests 
who were around us ordered us to face a particular direction, I glanced up and I realized that 
there was someone at a window that was one flight up.

It was apparent that whatever paces we were to be put through, it was all to be for the 
pleasure of the bishop.

They had made it clear that we were being taken to this location particularly for the 
purpose of serving the bishop and so that had to be who was behind the upstairs window.

"Strip naked all of you!" came the order from above us.

The girl next to me was shocked to hear the booming voice that came from the second 
story of the building and she looked right up toward the window.

One of the priests came rushing up to her and he knocked her down for her impudence. I 
was glad that I had taken that little glance beforehand so that I was not caught off-guard by 
the sound of the bishop's voice.

In a moment we were all naked and standing there in the courtyard.

We were kept standing there for the longest time. Then finally we heard the bishop's voice
shouting out, "You may take them to their cells now!"

And then I was brought to a cell that looked precisely like the cell that I had been used to 
at the Convent D'lf.

While I waited there I heard the door swing open and I saw a tall and elegant woman in 
the long and flowing robes of a prioress.

Her eyes were very cold and they were the blue that is the color of ice. When she spoke 
her voice was deep and rich, and yet it sent chills up my spine and I knew that they were chills 
of fear.

"This is the Convent DeMichelle and I am the prioress!"

"Yes, my lady." I said softly, bowing and kneeling before her.

"You have been brought here to please the bishop!" she said, and then as if she had to 
defend the last statement, she added, "He is the bishop and he deserves pleasures!"

Since she paused, I automatically added, "Yes, my lady."

"I warn you though that the bishop very quickly tires of the new girls! You might please 
him for a month or for a few months. After you are no longer of use here, we may keep you 
on to do other chores or we may send you to another convent!

"But you understand that your life is ours! You belong to us now and we may do with you 
whatever we wish to do!"

I simply nodded. What else could I do? I knew that my life belonged to the dreadful 
people in this religious order and I knew that there was nothing else that I could do but go 
along with their instructions.

When she offered her hand so that I could kiss her ring, she grabbed onto my head and 
she held it right there.

"Open my robes!" she said in a voice that dripped like steaming honey.

I pulled open her robes and there was a pussy that was fringed with a lush black bush.

"Kiss it!" she hissed at me.

My lips were tightly closed together as I brought them right up to the cunt lips of the tall 
and elegant prioress.

Her voice became harsh and mocking as she said, "Lick it! I want to feel you licking it!"

I stuck out my tongue and pressed it against the wrinkled flesh of her pussy lips. Her cunt 
flesh was delicate and it was already moistened. I realized that this meant that she was already
excited and stimulated by my presence and she wanted my attentions.

She reached down with her long and beautiful fingers and she pulled apart the lips of her 
cunt so that the interior flesh was exposed.

I pressed the tip of my tongue against the delicate and moist flesh that was inside of her 
pussy.

And then she grabbed at the back of my head and she pressed my head against her cunt 
flesh.

I felt my tongue being clasped by the hot lips that were clinging around it. When I tried to 
move my tongue it felt like it was glued to the flaming lips of the woman's cunt.

"Get all of your tongue up my pussy! I want to feel all of your tongue inside of me!" the 
elegant prioress groaned out.

So my tongue slid in as far as it could go and then I tried to pull it out. Since the moist and
sticky pussy flesh was sticking to my tongue as I pulled and pushed on the pink organ, I found
that it was not very easy for me to do.

At first I had been a little nervous about having my tongue up inside of the pink love slit of
the tall woman. But I soon discovered that the juices of her pussy did not taste all that bad.

They were rather sweet in flavor and not unlike a rich and heavy mead wine.

Soon enough though my tongue was flooded with the emissions of this woman's body. 
She was dripping and oozing juices and I was licking at them as quickly as I could.

I remembered the wonderful way that Sister Hope had licked and eaten the juices of my 
pussy and I remembered how much that had meant to me.

But servicing this prioress was the same as servicing the brutal monks who always 
degraded me and forced me to give them pleasure.

That was not the last time that I was forced to lick and lap at the pussy of a senior nun.

But now it is time for me to hide this journal once more.





CHAPTER SIX


Before taking the journal out to write in it this day I have debated on a point. I did not know 
whether I should include a bit of information in this journal.

And yet, I feel that in the interest of honesty I must include it.

Perhaps I am uncomfortable about this particular matter because it is something that is 
happening right at this moment. And when I say that I mean it very literally.

When I took this journal out of its hiding place in my straw mattress just a few minutes 
ago, I began to flip through it and read some of the things that I had already written in it.

Then I pulled up my robes and I reached for my naked pussy lips.

Now, of course, my pussy is fringed with golden hairs in a lovely bush. What I can see of 
my cunt lips are very rosy and luscious in appearance.

As I read of the exploits that have been described in the earlier pages, I found that I was 
pulling my pussy lips apart and jabbing my index finger up into my hot hole.

And hot it certainly was! By the time that my finger was shoved into my hole, it felt like I 
was putting my finger into an oven.

How can I explain this? I was reading about the incident when the monks first whipped me
and lashed the stinging leather whip onto my breasts and even onto my pussy lips. And yet, I 
was feeling a burning in my pussy lips which I knew to be passion.

Why did this passion well up inside of me when I was recalling the torment and torture 
that I had been through?

All I know is that I soon found myself with my index finger wriggling to and fro and 
shoving in and out of my pussy lips.

I was pressing that finger from side to side as I felt the walls of my vagina wriggling and 
undulating in delight.

There was a great quantity of juice that was welling up inside of my cunt as my finger kept 
on wriggling and my mind kept on imagining the scenes that I had experienced those many 
years ago.

Those scenes had been so frightening to me and yet with the fear there was always a bit of
sexual passion combined.

I am not educated enough to explain this and perhaps it will take people of a different age
to understand how such things can be.

All I know is that this journal has not only been a comfort to me because it has permitted 
me to reveal all that I have not been able to share with a friend of a confidante. But it has also 
been a comfort to me because it has given me little secret moments of sexual thrills.

But, now that I have finished frigging myself and I am wiping the sticky fingers on the 
inside of my robe, I wish to proceed with telling about my first encounter with the bishop.

The reason that I refer to it in that manor and speak of my first encounter with the man, is 
that I never saw the bishop.

I caught glimpses of him through lattice work or through windows. Once I would swear 
that I saw the man's eyes peeking through a slit in the wall. But I never actually saw him.

One of the priests came to my cell and opened the door. (There were no locks on any of 
the doors of the sister's rooms. They always wanted to be able to have easy access to our 
bodies). "Come immediately.

It was late in the night and I was naked under my blanket. I had learned that it was not 
wise to say anything to anyone. So I grabbed up my habit and I carried it with me as I rushed 
down the hall, following him.

He ushered me into this large chamber which was ornately decorated. There were marble 
tiles on the floor that were in a pale peach color and there was a divan in the center of the 
room that was in pink velvet.

The ceiling was very high and there was a second story of the room where the wall seemed
to be all made of filigreed shapes. So when I looked up above me I could see that there was a 
place to look down into this room from three different sides of the room.

It was as if it were an observation area and I knew immediately that I was being observed.

Then I looked around the room and I saw a man in the corner. He was standing against 
the wall and he was unlike any other man that I had ever seen.

His flesh was as black as my robes and he was massive. He must have been seven feet tall 
and his muscles were rippling and horrendous.

He looked at me from the corner and I could see the light glinting off of his black eyes. 
And yet he seemed a little frightened of this situation.

Then I heard the voice. I knew that it was the voice of the bishop and that he was watching
from behind the filigreed second story of the room.

"This is Xuja!" he said. "And he was brought here from the shores of Africa! He is a native 
of an African tribe of the western shore of that strange continent and I am anxious to see him 
in action."

"Xuja!" the bishop cried out and I could see the African man's head jerk up in response. 
"You will fuck with this girl!"

From the fear in the black man's face I could tell that he had learned the meaning of some 
words in our language and I could also tell that he had learned of the punishment that the 
bishop could give out.

When I looked at the man's massive body I could see that he only had one tiny article of 
clothing on. This was a little piece of cloth that covered his mid-section.

The piece of cloth seemed to be attached to a narrow string that ran around his waist.

As Xuja moved away from the wall I could see that there was a great bulge in the piece of 
cloth that was covering his cock.

"Fuck!" the African man shouted as if it were some sort of primitive war cry I had been 
through a great many different things and I had always been able to remain calm and 
collected throughout everything. But when the enormous and almost naked African man 
swooped down upon me, I screamed out.

My slender body was being crushed to the divan by the great weight of the black body 
and I could hear some cackling laughter that was coming from the observation room above 
me.

I could tell that the bishop was getting pleasure from what he was seeing. I was horrified 
by the nearness of the strange man and yet he did feel very warm.

As I pressed my fingernails into the powerful muscles of his black arms, I felt the strength 
that was there and soon I was running my fingernails up along his arms.

Looking over his shoulder I could see that he had no back on his outfit. The string that was
holding up his loincloth simply went around his waist and then another string came down 
right through his ass crack.

Apparently the article of clothing that he was wearing was only meant to cover his 
genitals. But his genitals were so large that it was nearly impossible for them to be covered.

His enormous and warm hands were pulling at the robes that I was wearing. As he 
uncovered my flesh I could feel his own warm flesh pressing down.

It was as though the man had brought the heat of the African sun right along with him in 
his skin.

Soon my robes were pulled all the way up to my armpits and the man was rubbing his 
chest back and forth so that he was pressing down on the beautifully formed young buds 
which were my breasts.

I sighed softly and then he reached down. I watched as he pulled on the string that was 
holding up his loincloth. It was apparently a vine of some sort.

When he pulled the string apart, the loincloth popped off and I could feel the heavy 
weight of his cock resting down on my belly.

I squirmed and reached down for the enormous black cock. I had never seen anything like 
it in terms of its size.

When I held it in my hand I could feel the intense weight of the thing!

And then the black eyes gazed into my eyes and he said, "Fuck! Fuck!" Perhaps that was 
the only word that he had learned in our language!

"Xuja!" came the bishop's harsh voice from above. "On your back!"

It broke my heart to see this massive and proud figure of a warrior degraded to the level 
of a household pet. He rolled over onto his back, just as he had been instructed to do.

When he was lying there on the divan, I could see how perfectly formed his body really 
was. He looked like an amazing statue that was carved out of black onyx.

Then the bishop's voice called out from above and I heard him say, "Lick that big black 
body!"

I realized that I was just as much of a trained dog for his entertainment as this wild man 
from the jungle was.

Pulling my habit off so that it would not get in the way, I leaned over the naked African 
man and I started at his neck. My pink tongue pressed against the sweaty African flesh and I 
tasted the musky flavor of his skin.

"Lick his armpits!" the voice called out.

My tongue left a slow and wet trail that led directly to the man's arms. I licked around the 
flesh of his massive shoulders and soon my tongue was sliding in between his arms and his 
chest.

I brushed my tongue in and out of that bit of his flesh and his breathing became very 
strained.

When I looked down at his body I saw that his cock jerked up under its own power. I 
busied myself with licking my tongue in and out of the black armpit.

Although his body was all smooth I could feel the black hairs brushing against my tongue 
as I flicked it back and forth. The huge warrior sighed softly.

"Now move down his body!" the bishop's voice carried a vicious ring to it.

I began licking over to the coal black nipple that was on the left side of his chest. I ran my 
tongue over the nipple and then I stuck my tongue out and flicked the nipple from side to 
side.

The nipple began growing as I was licking on it. That was wonderful.

And then I began to lick and kiss down the middle of his body.

Soon enough I was right at his cock. There was the head of the black cock lying so close to
my mouth that I could actually inhale the aroma of the thing. But I passed it as I stuck my 
tongue into his navel and wriggled my tongue around in there.

I was amazed at how taut the man's flesh was. He was so muscular and his flesh seemed to
have been pulled tightly across his massive form as if it were pulled onto the head of a drum.

"Suck his balls!" the bishop cried out as if he were half-way out of breath as he was 
watching the scene in which I was participating.

I opened my mouth as wide as I could and I tried to take one of the black warrior's 
testicles in my mouth. They were each so massive in size that I just managed to get my lips 
around one of them.

The man's testicle was crushing down my tongue and I could not move my mouth around 
it to give him any sensation of pleasure. But I knew that he was enjoying it nonetheless.

I could hear the big black man moaning out in pleasure and I knew that he was enjoying 
the moist warmth of my mouth.

"Lick him!" the bishop cried out in a voice like a maniac. "Lick that black body all over!"

So, I tried to follow the bishop's instructions as well as I could. I stuck my tongue right in 
between the black man's left ball and his left thigh.

That little bit of sweaty flesh was musky and warm and delicious to taste. When my tongue
was brushing past the wrinkled flesh on his ball, he moaned loudly.

"Down behind his balls!" the bishop cried out wildly.

And, as instructed, I moved my tongue down so that it was behind and under the black 
man's heavy testicles.

I had never seen two balls that were that size!

When my tongue was behind them, I actually had to support them on my tongue and the 
weight was pressing down on my delicate pink tongue.

The pinkness of my body next to the blackness of his body was so stark and unusual that I 
found it exciting to my senses.

However, knowing the way that my order frowned on any of the nuns enjoying 
themselves, I kept my pleasure a secret.

As it was, the bishop had some things in store for me that were not quite as pleasurable.

"Stick your tongue up that black ass hole!" the bishop screamed from his observation 
room.

I stopped for a moment. I had always followed instructions as I had been given them, but 
there was a pause that I had to take there.

Then, knowing that I would face a worse fate for anything that I refused to do, I grabbed 
the black warrior around the thighs and I pulled his thighs up.

Of course, since he was built like a rock I could not have physically coerced him into any 
position. But when he felt my hands on the backs of his thighs, he just naturally lifted his legs 
so that his ass crack was facing me.

I shut my eyes and I buried my face against the tightly clinging hole that was right there 
between the firm and muscular cheeks of the man's bottom.

My tongue darted out and thrust up against the moist and hot flesh of his ass hole. I knew
that I was following the orders of my bishop and I knew that I was doing what I had to do in 
order to be a member of the religious order.

But, if only there were some way for me to get out of the religious order! But how? There 
is no hope for my life.

And since, at that point, I saw that there was no hope for my life, I was leaning over a 
divan and eating out the ass hole of a black warrior while my bishop watched from an 
observation room above.

When I pulled my tongue away to catch my breath and then I looked right at the puckered
ass hole I realized that his ass hole was pink even though the rest of his flesh was so black.

I put my face right up to the little bottom hole again and I licked in and out of it.

This time Xuja was getting very excited. He was humping his body up and down and 
urging my tongue on to greater heights of stimulation.

"Suck his cock!" the bishop yelled down at me. "Suck his cock!"

I pulled my lips gratefully away from the ass hole and I lifted my head up.

The cock, as stated before, was absolutely massive. I took the round knob of the head 
between my lips and I began to suck on the wide cock head.

By this time I was very experienced at sucking cocks. But the cocks of the priests in France 
are apparently not the same as the cocks of the warriors on the west coast of Africa.

My jaw ached from the sucking that I was doing and I had still not managed to get more 
than the cock head between my lips.

"Take it all into your mouth!" the bishop screamed at the top of his lungs.

But, no matter how much I wanted to follow the instructions of the church, there was only 
so much that was humanly possible.

I kept on sucking up and down on the cock and taking a little more in my mouth each 
time that I sucked down on it.

But even when I did that I realized that I still had less than half of the cock between my 
lips. I could not imagine any way that I could possibly get the rest of it in my mouth.

"I told you to take it all in your mouth!" the bishop screamed in a rage. I imagined that his 
face was probably bright red from anger.

No matter how I tried I could not get any more of the cock in my mouth.

Grasping my fist around the base of the cock I tried to jerk it off into my mouth. Although 
that pleased the black warrior that did not please the bishop who was watching us.

My tongue was rubbing against the bottom of the cock, but it filled up so much of my 
mouth that I could not even move my tongue around. And the wide head of the cock was 
jammed right up against the back of my throat and I did not imagine that it could possibly go 
any deeper into my throat.

"You shall be punished severely if you do not take that entire African cock into your 
mouth!" the bishop screeched.

I actually pulled my lips off of the cock. I could see my own saliva still tying my lips to his 
cock. I know that my eyes looked puffy because I was on the verge of tears.

The African man saw that also and he pulled away from me.

Up above us the bishop was still ranting and raving, but now the warrior seemed to be 
above all of that. He was pushing me into a position. At first I tried to stop him because I was 
certain that he did not know what the bishop wanted.

But I was in for a surprise because he really did know just what the bishop wanted to see 
and he knew how to accomplish it.

He placed me on my back on the divan and he had my head dangling over one end of the 
divan.

My head was actually upside down so that it was hanging down over the edge. Then he 
placed his cock head at my lips.

Opening my mouth as wide as it would go, he began to slide his cock into my warm 
mouth.

The black warrior was on his knees and he was pushing his hips forward so that he could 
push his cock into my mouth. It was still just as thick and it still made it impossible for my 
tongue to move, but I realized that he was sliding more of his cock into me.

Soon I could feel his heavy black testicles slamming right up against my nose.

"Wonderful!" I heard the bishop cry out from above us.

Then the black warrior began to fuck my face. He pulled his cock back out of my mouth 
and then he slammed it right back into my throat.

I could feel the cock head rubbing against the sensitive flesh of my throat as he slammed 
into me. I realized just what had happened. In this particular position he had my mouth and 
my throat in a perfectly straight line and he was capable of sliding the great length of his cock 
all the way down my throat without having to deal with the bend that would normally be in 
my throat.

It actually opened my throat up so that it could fit the enormous cock!

The thick bush of kinky black pubic hairs was scratching hard against the delicate flesh of 
my chin each time that he slammed in against my face.

And I could feel the wide flare of the ridge of his cock head as it rubbed back and forth 
against the moist flesh inside of my throat. I could feel the cock head pressing my throat out 
of shape!

Slamming in against my throat was terrible, but I knew that it was better than having to 
face the wrath of the bishop.

"Pull out!" the bishop cried out. "Pull it out of her throat!"

Apparently the black warrior understood enough of our language to understand that 
order. My lips were wide open and my throat was wide open when he actually pulled his big 
black penis from my throat.

I turned over so that I was in an upright position and I looked at the glistening cock that 
was dribbling a combination of cock juice and saliva.

We were both waiting for instructions from the bishop!

The bishop shouted a series of instructions to both of us and in a moment the black 
warrior was lying on his back on the divan and I was squatting over him.

I figured out what was expected of me as the bishop kept on giving me my instructions.

My fear had been great enough about having that enormous penis entering my pussy. But
the vicious bishop was going to make me sit on the cock.

I placed the wide cock head against the lips of my pussy and I stretched my well-formed 
legs out on both sides of the black man's body.

The contrast of my flesh to his flesh was so great because e I had been locked away for so 
long in convents that I had forgotten what the sun was like and my skin was actually white.

Even when I stretched both of my legs as wide apart as they would go I still did not see 
how to fit the head of the black cock between my cunt lips.

I tried to relax and to make my breathing as regular as possible.

And then a little bit of the cock head did manage to slip between my cunt lips.

I was working so hard at relaxing that I could hear every beat of my own heart.

Then the bishop screamed out, "I want that African cock all the way up inside of your 
cunt!"

I felt one great push and the black cock head was fully inside of my cunt lips. Then there 
was almost a little bit of a relaxation.

Actually my pussy flesh was still being stretched out unbearably but everything is really 
open to comparison and in this instance it was comparatively a relaxing thing as I felt the thick
shaft of his cock sliding into me.

The point was that his widely flared cock head was actually the thickest part of the huge 
piece of meat. My cunt lips were the tightest part of my pussy.

Therefore, once his cock head had slipped in between my lips and was sliding up into my 
body, I could feel that it was not as hard for my pussy to take the hard cock.

At that point the real problem would be managing the length of the big black cock.

I felt as if I had taken as much of the cock as I could into my pussy and yet when I looked 
down I saw that there was still half of the cock waiting to shove inside of me.

When I felt that I could not push down any further, I began to pull up feeling that that 
would help my pussy to relax.

There was a feeling of moisture in my pussy and a wriggling in my cunt flesh when I felt 
the cock rub back along the interior flesh.

And then when I pushed down again on the cock, I knew that it was going even further 
into my body.

I pulled up once more and pushed down once more and each time that I pushed back 
down I knew that I was taking more of the cock into my pussy.

In the background I could still hear the bishop shouting, "More! Get more of that African 
cock up your pussy!"

I was almost all the way down onto the cock. I could look down and see that there was 
only another inch or two of cock waiting to shove into my pussy flesh.

My whole body began to quiver and shake as I felt the wide base of the cock ripping at 
the flesh of my pussy.

I was frightened and I was scared. For the first time in a long time I was really at a point 
where I didn't feel that I could go on.

All that I really had to do was to let my body drop the rest of the way so that the cock 
would go all the way into me. But I couldn't bring myself to do it.

The bishop was screaming from above, "Get it all the way into you! Get it all the way into 
you!"

Tears began to form in my eyes and I could tell that the African warrior was looking up at 
me.

"If you don't get it all the way into you, I shall see to it that you are punished and you will 
regret this for many months to come!" the bishop yelled.

I was only supporting myself on my arms since I was squatting so tenuously over the 
African man's body, with his cock almost all the way in my pussy.

Suddenly I felt the African's hands grab onto my hands and pull them from my side. The 
support that my arms had been giving me was suddenly taken away from me and I felt my 
pussy being impaled all the way on the cock.

It slammed into me!

And I shrieked out in pain and passed out from the agony of having the cock in my pussy.

When I woke up I was lying on the floor and the African man was pumping his cock into 
my pussy.

The bishop was shouting out, "Fuck her! Fuck her hot pussy!"

When I opened my eyes I could see that the black warrior had sweat streaming down his 
face and his massive chest.

I was grateful to this man who was fucking me. He had shown more kindness and 
consideration than any of the priests who had fucked me. And he had even helped me to 
escape punishment by showing me how to manage his enormous and over-sized cock.

When he began to have his orgasm I felt the flesh on his slick black cock expanding out so
that I thought it was going to rip apart my pussy.

I moaned out and I knew that my pussy flesh was trying to wriggle and writhe and I knew 
that I was also on the verge of having an orgasm.

But my pussy was so stuffed with the amazing cock that I could not even feel any 
movement in my cunt walls.

That was not the last time that the bishop used me in such a way. I was called back many 
times more to perform sexual acts for the sake of the bishop's viewing, although the man 
always stayed on the other side of a screen or partition so that I never saw his face.

I always imagined that he was playing with himself as he watched me in these sexual 
situations, because often I would hear him pant wildly as he would call out his instructions.

But the unfortunate thing about my life in the convent is that even when I have a pleasant 
moment to share, such as the moment I had with the black African warrior in the bishop's 
chambers, I can never really share it.

I never saw the warrior again and I do not know what ever became of the man.

There is a problem that is arising as I write down all of these things. I realize that there is a 
rage that is growing inside of me.

This anger is becoming unharnessed as I realize more and more how these people have 
stripped every vestige of joy from my life!

I am very much afraid that I am now like a load of explosives and that it will take very Little
to bring me to the point of an explosion.

Although I shall try my best to control myself, I know that I have no control over the 
circumstances in this place. I am merely a victim and I must flow with the movements that are 
ordered of me.

If only things will stay peaceful for a while, I will be able to cope. However if I am bothered 
today by people who wish to use and abuse me further, I do not know how I will react.

After three years at the Convent DeMichelle where I served the bishop during that period 
of time, I was brought to the Convent DeLys where I have been ever since.

My life has been the same for too long a time and I do not know what future waits in store
for me. I am still young and beautiful enough to please the monks and priests and I know that
with luck I can remain that way for another twenty years.

But how could I face another twenty years of doing this? Twenty years of servicing the 
religious men sexually!

There is only one solution that I can see for the moment. Although this journal means so 
much to me, I must promise myself that I will not take this journal out and that I will not write 
in it for a long time.

It is clear to me that I have survived for this length of time because I have looked at one 
day at a time.

This journal has given me a certain perspective and it has destroyed the illusion that 
existed from looking at my life one day at a time.

So, I must go back to the other way and I must hide this journal and forget about it.

Who knows under what circumstances I shall take up this pen again?





CHAPTER SEVEN


I can scarcely write.

Now I must try to be very fast about this because I do not know how soon they will come 
for me and I do not know whether I will be able to hide this journal on my person and take it 
with me.

Although I shall try, there is so little that is certain about my life anymore that the only 
thing that I am certain of is fear.

The reason that I find writing difficult is that they just took my shackles off. I had been 
shackled for some time while they held my trial but they have now sent me to my cell so that I
could make amends with my soul and prepare myself for my fate.

Perhaps they shall execute me. At this point I would consider that a mercy and I would be 
surprised at it coming from such a merciless source.

But, I jump ahead of myself. Let me begin my story in hopes that the fates will give me 
enough time to complete the telling of it.

As I stated the last time that I took up this book, I was feeling troubled. I felt that my 
troubles were caused by my recollections in this book and the fact that they were making it 
impossible for me to exist in my day to day basis.

However,' now I am glad. Even if I could blame this book for everything that had 
happened to me, I would still be glad that I have written it This has been my story and it is 
good that it is down on paper, if only because I soon may be out of existence.

At least something of my life will last, even if the ultimate end of this journal will be seeing 
the lower portion of the flames in the fireplace of the prioress.

The last time that I was writing in this journal, I felt a fear that I would soon explode.

That explosion occurred last week.

I had not written in this journal for almost two months at that time and I had almost 
succeeded in forgetting about it entirely. Although I did find that I would sometimes dream 
about reading the journal.

No matter how I tried to force myself and to convince myself that these recollections did 
not matter to me, I knew that they really did matter.

I found that I was brooding all of the time. But that was one good thing about being in 
this dour and dismal convent. No one ever noticed when I was brooding. I just looked like 
everyone else.

And then one day while I was doing some copying in the afternoon, two priests came in.

As usual I ignored them and just went about my business. Since one is so helpless in this 
place is it best to simply allow things to happen as they will and certainly, to never encourage 
anything.

The two priests were mumbling to each other and then one of them said, "Get out of that 
habit!"

I pulled off my cowl and then I pulled off my robes and I was soon standing in just the 
black stockings that were rolled up my legs and the black slippers.

"Spread your pussy!" the second priest instructed.

As I was standing there, I spread my legs wide apart and then I pulled apart the lips of my 
pussy "And shove your finger up your cunt!" the first priest sneered.

I did as they asked and I began to frig myself. The expression on my face had not changed 
and I had been feeling so preoccupied with other things that I was not even feeling any 
moisture in my cunt as I continued to rub my finger in and out.

"You don't seem to like it very much!" one of the priests snarled.

"Tell us that you like to frig your pussy!" the other commanded.

"I like to frig my pussy!" I said in a soft voice.

"Not just the letter of it! The meaning as well!"

"I like to frig my pussy!" I repeated in the same tone that I had used the first time.

"We don't believe you!"

"I like to frig my pussy!" My teeth were clenched now as I went wild with anger and said, "I 
like to frig my pussy! I like it! I like it!"

One of the priests stepped forward and spit right at my face. I turned aside and he 
grabbed me by the neck and said, "Look at me!"

He spit again and without even thinking I turned aside so that the awful liquid would just 
strike my cheek.

Pulling on my hair, he said, "Look at me! Look straight at me you little slave!"

Then he spit right into my face.

It was so awful that I shudder and I can feel my insides quivering just writing about it.

Then the two of them knocked me down to the floor and I looked up at them. But this 
time I did not look up to beg mercy of them. I looked up because I wanted to defy them.

And I knew that they had seen the defiance in my eyes.

The two of them pulled off their robes quickly and revealed their naked bodies. The one 
with the hairy body already had a rampant prick that was pointing straight at me. The one 
with the smooth body began to run his hand up and down the length of his cock so that he 
could get it as hard as his friend's.

Then the one who was hairy pressed his cock right up against the lips of my pussy and 
began to work it into my hot hole.

Because I had not been juiced up in advance of the invasion, I found it a little difficult to 
take the cock into my love slit.

But the priest pushed forward and rammed into me. I felt the wide sides of the cock 
rubbing against the delicate flesh on the sides of my cunt.

Then I felt the widely flared cock head rubbing against the delicate flesh that was inside of 
my pussy.

I could feel the walls of my pussy being stretched out and distended from the tugging of 
the cock head.

And then the cock was all the way inside of my cunt. Without waiting at all and without 
giving me a chance to get used to the intruder, the man began to pull his cock back in my dry 
pussy.

It felt as if he was tugging on the pussy flesh with his big and hard tool.

And then he slammed back in again and his cock hit hard against the deep recesses of my 
cunt.

Back and forth and in and out. The cock was rubbing against my cunt flesh and slamming 
into the deepest part of my pussy.

Soon enough, and actually despite myself, I found that the cock was making my pussy 
juice up. I could feel the flesh of my pussy seeping the sweet and pearly juices that would 
make it easier for the man to fuck my cunt.

Even though I was trying hard not to enjoy this fucking, it was a blessing when I felt the 
juices of my pussy beginning to flow inside of me. Then I was better able to take the cock and 
it did not hurt when the cock was rubbing back and forth along the cunt flesh.

But these priests were not over yet!

There would be more pain to come! The smoothly fleshed priest had his cock hard and he 
was pushing me over onto my side.

I fully expected that he would shove his cock up into my bung hole so that he could fuck 
that hole while his friend fucked my pussy. But he never did.

What he had in mind was even more diabolical than that!

I felt his fingers pulling and tugging on the bottom of my pussy lips, even as his friend was
fucking in and out of my pussy.

The hairy priest who was fucking my pussy was going at a very fast pace and he did not 
miss a stroke even when his friend was feeling at the lips of my cunt.

I wondered just what was going on.

And just then I felt the broad head of this second priest's cock pressing against my pussy 
crack.

At first I shuddered with horror at the thought of trying to take two cocks into my pussy at
the same time. But then I just began to shake. I was certain that it was an impossibility and 
that these two men would be able to fit their cocks into my cunt.

But as the hairy priest was fucking in front of me, the smooth man behind me, lifted up my
left leg and I felt his cock begin to press at my cunt lips. He was tugging and pulling at my 
cunt lips.

As the hairy priest pushed his cock into me another time, I felt the second cock head slip 
between my pussy lips at the same time.

The hairy priest pulled back just a little bit and when he pushed forward again that helped 
his friend to also push forward inside of me.

Soon I had both of the cocks fucking in and out of me. It was amazing. The flared heads of
each of the cocks were on the outside of the fucking combination and therefore both sides of 
my pussy flesh were being massaged by the flared cock heads.

And since there were two of them to ooze out the cock juice that preceded their orgasms, 
there was that much more lubrication in my pussy and therefore it was a smoother and a 
wilder sensation as the cocks ran over my cunt flesh.

I could not believe that two men were using my pussy at the same time and yet they really 
were!

And then I felt a pulsation! I felt a stretching of my cunt lips that was even greater and 
wider than any before.

The cocks kept on moving around inside of me but I knew that one of them was on the 
verge of an orgasm.

And then I felt one of the cocks slap out against my pussy flesh and I could feel the 
steaming gism pour out of the hot penis.

There were so many things going on inside of me that I could not even figure out which of
the cocks it was that was shooting its seed into me.

But then, despite myself, I could feel my pussy wriggling and I knew that my cunt cream 
was beginning to surge up in my body.

I howled out as I felt my own orgasm rising.

There was such a tightness in my cunt that it felt like it was closing up on the cocks and 
that they would be stuck in there forever.

And that was all that was necessary for the second cock to begin to shoot into my cunt.

The three of us were panting in unison as we felt the orgasm that was like one single 
orgasm in my pussy. It is just that that one orgasm had three different parts to it, because 
while I was cumming, I felt the two men cumming as well.

Soon enough both of the priests had pulled their cocks out of my pussy slit. I could see 
that both of their cocks were messy from all of the juices that had been mingled in my body.

And when I looked down at my body, I could see that my own pussy slit was stretched out 
and was drooling with heat and moisture.

I looked up and saw the tall and hairy priest who was standing over me. He looked down 
at me and he laughed.

That was all he did. He just laughed.

But that was all that he had to do. I grabbed up a chair and I swung it up over my head.

I have heard it said that in moments of high emotion it is possible to take on great 
strength which you never knew that you possessed.

That was precisely what happened to me!

As I swung the chair down and smashed it across the head of the horrible priest who had 
just laughed at me, I screamed out, "I shall not serve as a receptacle for your stinking sperm!"

The next thing I knew I was still standing there and the priest who had just been laughing 
was sprawled across the floor with the chair bashed against his head.

And the smooth-skinned priest, still naked, went running out into the hall shouting, "Mad 
Nun! Mad Nun! Help! Help!"

They came to get me after that and I had never moved from that spot. I was still standing 
with my hand still on one of the legs of the chair as I looked down at the still body of the 
naked hairy priest.

Why did I do it to him?

I cannot say, unless it was just the anger that had grown over all of the years that I had 
been in the convent.

But I know that I did not wish to kill that one poor misguided priest. For that was all that 
he was. He was terribly misguided. He was a troubled person.

Although I did not know much about the ways of life outside of the convent walls, I know 
enough to realize that a person who wants to abuse other people is also degrading and 
abusing himself!

And yet, I am only human. I have never claimed any sainthood for myself and I do not 
expect anyone else to elect me to that post.

The hatred that I had for all of the priests and nuns and bishops who had gone before that
one hairy man who had laughed at me after battering my pussy hole, had grown to such an 
unfeasible degree that I had to let it out.

That priest was the unfortunate one. He was the straw that did break the back of this 
camel and he was the one who felt the wrath that had been storing up inside of me.

What excuses can I give for what happened? Anyway, excuses are not really needed 
because my punishment promises to be horrible enough to make up for my crime.

I have now been informed that there is a priest who will be coming for me and that he will 
be driving me somewhere in a coach and that at that ultimate destination I shall know my 
fate.

This book still puts me in terrible danger and yet now that I have reached this point I 
cannot see what further punishment they could give me.

But I hear someone coming toward my cell. I shall take this book with me even if it means 
my very life!





CHAPTER EIGHT


My fate seems most certainly sealed.

It is amazing that I can write at all! I hid the journal and a writing implement with a bit of 
string up under my habit.

Fortunately no one wanted my sexual favors in those few moments when I was taken to 
the little black coach, or else they would have found this book.

If only some miracle could happen and I could get this journal to the pope so that he 
could know what was going on in the church here.

For I know now that this evil bishop is acting under a cloak of secrecy and I know that his 
terrible ways do not represent the ways of love and brotherhood which are the church.

Too often people wrap themselves in the cloak of religion and they depend on the fact 
that no one ever questions religion!

Evil can masquerade as piety and honesty and truth can be condemned as sinful heresy.

This is what has happened in this case.

I do not even know why I continue to write in this journal. Now that there is no hope at all 
I still feel that there must be a glimmer of hope inside of me!

It is nearly impossible for me to write this because I am in the blackness of the coach. 
However, my eyes have adjusted to the darkness and as long as the coach keeps moving I can
trust that no one will interrupt me.

Let me try to tell of the events that have led up to this coach ride, the events which 
followed the terrible incident where I had smashed a chair down on the hairy priest who had 
just raped me.

When they put me in a dungeon cell, they were not content to lock me into the small 
room, they also felt that they had to put shackles around me.

I was left to stand for over a day with a metal rod shoved up my cunt. This metal rod was 
almost the length of a man's forearm and it was attached to a series of chains.

The chains were wrapped tightly around my pussy lips and pulled up along the crack of 
my ass.

Then these same chains were attached around my neck so that I could not even lift my 
head all the way up.

It was very uncomfortable and then to top that off, my wrists were tied up with leather 
straps and were chained together and then my hands were pulled up above my head so that I 
was strapped to the ceiling.

And that was the position that I had to stay in for a whole day while they made some 
decisions about my trial.

After a while of remaining like that, my mind was completely deadened. I could not bear 
living any longer.

But no matter what I would do and how much I would try to faint or to lose consciousness,
I could not manage to black out.

I still remained aware of my pains.

Then they came to take me down and they put me in a yoke configuration, the same one 
that I had seen used on Sister Hope so many years before.

The big wooden beam went back behind my neck and then went in front of my shoulders 
so that my head was pushed forward. And then they attached strings and hooks all along the 
length of the wooden beam.

Each time that I moved, no matter how slowly I moved along, I could feel the hooks hitting
into my flesh and leaving little scars all over my back and my ass.

Then they placed little leather clips on my nipples that made my poor pink nipples swell 
up and ache with a pain that coursed through my body.

And if that were not enough, they replaced the metal rod at my pussy, shoving it up my 
slit and keeping it in place with chains.

This was the way that I appeared for my trial and this was the way that I was kept for a 
majority of the week.

I was almost grateful for the kindness when they removed these bonds to permit me to 
sleep.

Having been here enough years and knowing the brutality of these people, I have actually 
forgotten what true human kindness can be!

Each evening when I was once more unstrapped from the bonds that were so brutally 
ripping into my body, they would give me another whipping so that my tender and white flesh
was soon used to the pains and welts that were all over me.

If my heart is filled with a great fear now it is mostly because they have removed all of the 
bonds and they have returned me to my nun's habit.

Now that I have the bonds off of me, I can feel the aches and the pains that before were 
just a dull constant throbbing.

But the pain is so great up my pussy and all over my back that I can hardly sit in this coach.
I can hardly move my muscles.

That is why it is hardly a strain for me to be writing in the dark. Although my eyes are 
hurting from the effort, the pain is not nearly as great as the pain that I feel all over my body.

The fear that I feel is very deep and it makes sense to me only because I know these 
people.

They are aware of the fact that victims grow used to pain and that torture must be 
increased accordingly.

Simply the fact that my body is completely without torment now indicates to me that they 
will have some ultimate torture waiting for me when we reach the destination.

When the footsteps came down the hall to my cell and I quickly hid this book up under my
robe, the Monsignor of our convent entered the cell with a young priest who had his cowl up, 
covering his head.

I knew the monsignor's stem visage well enough and I bowed to him as well as I could 
(considering the aches of my body).

"You are being sent to the bishop!" the monsignor said. It had been two years since I had 
been in the clutches of the vicious bishop. Then the monsignor continued, "The bishop shall 
execute your sentence at his own convenience and pleasure!"

I nearly swooned. While I had been in the service of the bishop I had been through a great
many things and I knew that the bishop's pleasures could be horrible to experience.

My face remained expressionless. I had already been through enough and I knew how to 
maintain myself.

I could not see the priest's face because he had his hood up and then the monsignor 
introduced the hooded man as Brother Henri.

Then I was instructed to follow this brother down to the carriage. I was sealed inside the 
black carriage and I assume that Brother Henri has been driving the carriage ever since, for I 
have felt the movement.

When I first got into this carriage I did try to open the doors, but I found that they had 
been well bolted shut and there was no hope for that.

I imagine that when the carriage doors open I shall be in the bishop's convent and I shall 
be at his mercy.

My anticipation is very great. I do not have much experience with travelling and I must say 
that the only real experiences that I have had have been in closed coaches when I have been 
brought from one convent to another.

But it seems to me that we have been going very fast and that we have been travelling for 
a very long time.

I wonder if they might have tricked me and sent me off to some other horrible place. But, 
as I have stated earlier in this journal, I know that the bishop's territory is not very wide and I 
know that we cannot travel for too long a time and still stay within his territory.

All this time I have been wondering just what they will do to me.

But, no matter what confessions they get from me with the use of their torture and no 
matter how they brutalize me, they cannot make me believe that certain things are wrong.

At my trial they kept on accusing me of being a wicked woman. Priests and monks took 
the stand and told about their sexual experiences with me. They swore that they could tell that
I was enjoying the sex and they all agreed that good women did not enjoy sex, that they 
simply submitted for the pleasure of the men.

I cannot believe that.

In spite of everything, I still believe that sex can be a very beautiful thing!

After all, the lord invented it. Why would he invent something that came as naturally to us 
as our hunger for food if it was going to be a terrible and disgusting thing?

Do the ducks in the convent pond know that sex is evil? I have watched these ducks 
frolicking together and I know that they have been enjoying themselves!

And the dogs that play together and join in intercourse, even though the nasty old nun 
with the broom goes chasing them and hollering that they are being perverse and disgusting.

These people in the religious order were prepared to accept anything as long as it was 
unpleasant.

Just as soon as one smiled in the course of sexual activity, the people in the convent would
see to it that they were punished.

As long as animosity and hatred was expressed, the sex was fine. The reason that I finally 
could not stand it any longer was that I had had enough hatred to last me for a long time.

Perhaps they shall do the ultimate hatred to me now and I shall no longer have to face 
them anymore.

The only thing that I know is that I only wish to love. In my heart, so deep down that it 
might be impossible to find it, there is still that sweet little girl of thirteen.

That thirteen-year-old girl was dragged off into the convent and inundated with a 
half-dozen years of hatred. But that thirteen-year-old is still there, anxiously waiting to face 
the joys of life.

Those joys that I now never expect to know!

When one reads the bible often enough, one begins to find some interesting things.

Perhaps this journal will have to end soon and so let me share one of those things with 
you. The destruction of Sodom was not done because they were having sexual orgies.

Sodom's sin was cruelty. The fact that there was no justice to strangers and that people 
who held different beliefs were not held kindly.

I will state on these pages that I would happily indulge in a wild and joyous sexual romp.

It would be better to engage in a wonderful sexual escapade than to be mean and unkind 
to a person!

But the coach is coming to a stop. Be still my foolish heart!

Let me hide this journal quickly and if this is farewell, let me hope and pray that any who 
may read this journal will face a happier fate than I.





EPILOGUE


It may seem foolish, but that last entry was not a farewell after all! But what do I care if things 
seem foolish? I am sitting naked beside a lovely country stream and I am writing this.

However, I am being careful that these pages may be detached from the rest of this work. 
For when we show this journal to the pope we do not want him to see this.

Do you think that I have gone mad?

I can now address any of you who might be reading this in the future. For the first time I 
no longer have any fears about the survival of this journal and I also do not have any fears 
about my own survival.

Yes! All that preceded in the chapters above was the truth. And yes, the carriage did stop 
and I hid this book.

That seems centuries ago and yet it was just an hour ago that all of that happened. No! 
Perhaps it was two hours ago. And yet, what does that matter?

When the carriage stopped I had time to hide this journal because the priest had to open 
the carriage door.

But when he opened the door and I expected to Find the convent of the bishop, I faced 
instead a deserted country glen. It was beautiful and open and it was the first time that I had 
seen countryside in six years.

Since I had learned to have a suspicious mind, I immediately decided that the priest 
wanted to ravage and rape me and that he did not want to have to share me with the bishop's
men.

Two thoughts quickly entered my head. I was worried about the safety of the journal. That 
was foolish. It was clear to me that sooner or later I would not have a place to hide this book!

But, my pussy had been used so often by hungry priests that I could not worry about my 
cunt. I could only worry about this book!

Then I was also wondering about any opportunity to escape. Now that I was outside of the
convent walls, I thought that this foolish priest might have given me a chance to run away.

I looked at the priest and he pulled back his hood.

My expression was immobile even though a soft smile crossed his face as he looked at me.

The man had dark eyes and soft brown hair that was clipped short and yet was falling 
across his forehead. He had a beard that was slightly more red than the hair of his head.

"Do you remember me?" he asked.

What could he do to me now? I had been through so much and I was so certain that they 
were planning the ultimate in tortures for me at the moment, that one more slap could not 
have harmed me.

"I have had so many priests!" I said softly.

But the man did not slap me across the face. He just kept looking at me and he kept on 
smiling.

"Shall I tell you about the way that I became a priest?"

I looked at him and there was contempt in my eyes. I was certain that he was. taunting me 
at that moment and I did not like it.

Most of the priests were satisfied to abuse my body and to use me sexually. I did not 
understand what this strangely good looking man wanted.

"I became a priest at the Convent D'lf. It all began one Sunday when I wanted to see a 
naked girl.

"This girl was the most beautiful in my village and I would have done anything in order to 
see her naked body. But the only thing that she asked in return was an opportunity to see my 
naked body!

"So we went out behind the big convent and we both undressed, but just as I put my 
fingertips to the lips of her youthful and hairless pussy, the monks grabbed us!"

My eyes did not leave his. There were tears in his eyes and there were tears in my eyes. But
I did not reach up to wipe away the tears.

It had been so long since I had cried tears of joy that I wanted to keep them. I wanted to 
enjoy them!

"And... and why did you remain a priest? Why did you remain in the convent?" I asked him 
between my tears.

"It is not much easier for the priests to escape from the clutches of the bishop than it is for
the nuns to do so!" he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "And when I was trusted and I 
could have left there was still one reason why I could not leave!"

"And what was that?"

"A girl named Therese! The most beautiful girl in my village and I knew that I had to save 
her!"

"Henri!" I cried out, unable to control myself one second longer.

"Therese!" he wept, grabbing me as I pressed myself against his body and wept in great 
heaving sobs.

"Cry my darling! Cry my beloved!" Your nightmare is over.

When I looked up into his face and I saw the salty tears that were streaming down into his 
beards, I saw that he was moving his face slowly down toward me.

I moved my face slowly up toward him.

Our lips met and one moment later I could feel his tongue licking back and forth along my
lips.

Then, my lips yielded to the exploration of his tongue and his tongue slipped between my 
lips. I could feel the tingling as his tongue flicked back and forth along my tongue.

The tips of the two tongues were tingling with anticipation and then the tongues grappled
together as they pressed hotly one next to the other.

It was delightful!

It could not be said that he was kissing me anymore than it could be said that I was kissing
him. No, indeed! We were kissing each other.

We slid together to the ground. We both knew what we wanted and we both knew that we
were going to do it immediately.

His hands were tender with me. More than tender. He was handling me as if I were a 
fragile jewel that he hardly dared to touch.

He did not pull off my robes, he lifted them from my body and he exposed my body so 
wonderfully and deliciously that I felt a chill running through me.

It did not even matter when he touched me. All of the pains that I had been feeling one 
moment before were now gone.

What did the tortures matter? I knew that I was with the man who really loved me and that
was all that really mattered.

He had not come with trumpets or cymbals clashing, but he was here.

When he looked at my naked body, I was more than a little ashamed of the red marks that
had been made by the whips and the chains and the leather bindings.

But he began to kiss along my body. He pressed his warm lips against each of my bruised 
nipples and then he licked at my breasts with his tongue.

I sighed softly.

Even throughout all of the terrors that I had faced while in the convent I knew that it was 
possible for love and sex to be beautiful.

Although I had no evidence to prove it to me, I had faith that there was such a thing as a 
wonderful and loving sexual experience.

This is what I had with Henri!

His cloaks seemed to float away and his naked body was the most beautiful I had ever 
seen.

This was the boy who had been with me the day that I had undressed by the convent and 
gotten dragged away by the priests. But his handsome boyish body had been changed into a 
wonderful and manly body.

His chest was broad and the hair had taken on a reddish hue. His body was hairy all over 
and his ass and hips were strong. When I reached down for his cock, I was impressed with the 
size of the instrument.

I ran my fingers up and down along the cock and the man shuddered.

"Henri!" I whispered although there was no one to hear.

"Yes, my love!"

"Let us pretend that it is the first time! Let us pretend that we are back behind the convent 
and we are naked together! And let us pretend that we have never before touched or been 
touched by other bodies!"

"That is simple enough! For I have never really touched another! How can the rapes in the 
convent count, when my love has always belonged to you!"

And he kissed me again. There was no more need for talk. We had said all that could be 
said.

When he pressed his cock head against my pussy lips, I raised my hips up off of the 
ground and he slid his cock slowly into my cunt.

He inhaled sharply between his clenched teeth and I could tell from the misty look in his 
eyes and he was feeling great waves of pleasure running through his body.

Then he pushed forward and I felt his cock meat beginning to slide into my cunt.

There was a tingling at the sensitive sides of my pussy and I felt it emanate out all through 
my body. I had never in my life felt anything as wonderful as that.

Yes! Should anyone wish to find the most beautiful and thrilling of all sexual adventures, 
you may well go through the course of adventures that I have been through and you can 
follow the chapters of this horrible tale to guide you.

But you will ultimately find that the most thrilling of them all is making love to someone 
you really love!

Feeling the cock of the man you love inside of your pussy is the greatest joy that any of 
the women out there may ever know. No matter how far they look for others.

I have been through all of the others and I have found this truth for myself!

As Henri fucked in and out of my pussy I felt it all over my body and he was moaning and 
groaning as he moved his powerful hips up and back. It was the greatest fuck of my lifetime.

Then I suddenly felt him speed up his movements and then he slammed into my pussy 
and stopped altogether.

His cock was throbbing out and his whole body seemed to be having an erection. His arms
and his legs were totally rigid and even his breathing seemed to be suddenly forced.

Only his cock was moving wildly. His cock had taken on a life of its own and it was 
pulsating in my pussy so that I could feel it slapping against the walls of my pink flesh.

As his gism splashed out at my body I could feel the response of my own cunt. The walls 
of my vagina were wriggling and undulating with juice.

It was an excitement that I had never known before, despite all of the orgasms that I had 
previously experienced.

Then when we had finished fucking, the two of us sat together by a stream and we stayed 
naked. It did not matter. We knew that no one else would be coming along to disturb us.

That was when I told Henri about this journal, this account of the horrors that I had 
suffered at the hands of the religious order.

He had also smuggled something out of the convent. He had taken a cross that was 
encrusted with so many jewels that it would keep us living like royalty for the rest of our lives.

We knew that our responsibility was to get to Rome. We shall do that immediately and see
to it that the pope sees this journal and finds out about this sick and evil bishop.

Now that I have been saved by Henri, I feel confident that I shall get to see the pope and 
present the journal to him. I know that he will stop the evil bishop from spreading his sexual 
terror and hatred throughout the convents of France.

After we have done that, Henri and I shall return to our little home town and we will buy a 
small farm.

It took a long time for Henri and I to complete the youthful sexual adventure that we had 
wanted to do, and yet I can feel the pain and the stinging of the tortures beginning to fade.

Clearly, the romantic and affectionate sex that we shared was all that we really needed in 
the first place.

During all of the years that I was a prisoner in the convents of the perverse bishop I always
felt certain that sex was truly a beautiful tiling.

Something inside of me refused to give in to the misguided thinking of those religious 
fanatics who felt that sex and pain were intertwined. No matter how much they tortured me I 
still kept my faith in the power of the lord and in the power of love.

I would be less than honest if I did not admit that there were a few moments that I shared 
with Henri that were somewhat reminiscent of my experiences in the convent.

There were times when he bit into my flesh and times when I bit and scratched into his 
flesh.

After we had finished our adventure in fabulous fucking, Henri turned to me and he said, 
"Would you mind if perhaps, one day, I were to tie you up for sex?" I felt my blood racing at 
the thought.

Yes! I am confessing that there is something very stimulating and exciting about the sexual
bondage and the bits of painful pleasure that can be shared by two loving people. But in the 
future I shall be able to enjoy those things merely as variety to the tender pleasures of 
romantic love that I have already known.

The important thing is that I am now with the man I love and aside from knowing that I 
would do anything for him, I know that he would do anything for me.

Love has triumphed!


The End
