MSL-14 Diary Of The Bastard Daughter


FOREWORD

I don't quite remember how everything happened. My mother and I were sitting down, 
and we were just getting ready to have our dinner. There was a knock on the door, and as my 
mother went to open it, she was thrown across the room.

The door was kicked open, and there were three tall men standing there.

I had seen them in town, but didn't know them too well. One of them grabbed my mother 
while two of them grabbed me and started to rip off my clothing.

I was only fifteen at the time, but the men seemed to be quite impressed with my full, 
woman's breasts. One of them grabbed at my nipples and I could feel them starting to stiffen. 
The other moved his hands down to my virgin pussy and began to explore, digging his fingers
deep into my cunt.

I felt my cunt starting to spasm, then looked over in time to see the man who had grabbed
my mother, thrusting his hard manhood into her cunt. She was groaning in pain, and I was 
sure that I had seen some blood.

I looked back at my abductors and saw that the one fingering me was pulling his pants 
down. His cock looked big enough to kill.

After he fucked me, then put me in a sack and dragged me somewhere, I started to wish 
that maybe his cock had killed me. The worst, you see, was yet to come...

* * *

This true document was written by a young girl named Roxanne, who was abducted by 
three men, and carried with her mother to a dungeon where she had to submit to various 
perverted sexual activity and tortures.

While being kept prisoner, she managed to get hold of some paper and pencils and start 
to keep a journal, which was probably discovered and buried by her abductors.

For what Roxanne discovered was shattering.

First, she learned that she was being held prisoner on monastery grounds, in the secret 
dungeons where the priests and nuns carried out their evil rites. And second, she was to learn 
an even greater secret, which was the main reason why the girl was being tortured. She was to
learn that she was the illegitimate daughter of the Monsignor, the man behind all the evil at 
the monastery.


CHAPTER ONE

There are so many things that I wish I could remember. However, it's been a long time 
since everything happened to me. I must thank the young slave boy here who was able to get 
me some paper and a pen to write these words.

As of now, I don't know what's going to happen to me, or why the things that have 
happened to me thus far, happened. It might be confusing, but it's not confusing to me. I will 
never forget the day I was first dragged off to the place where I am now.

My mother and I were sitting down, and we were just getting ready to have our dinner. My
mother was always a sensational cook, but when I think about it, I find no reason why she 
shouldn't have been. After all, she didn't work.

In fact, there were times when I would ask my mother where we got the money that we 
lived on from, and she would always give me the same answer.

"Your father's family made sure that we were cared for."

I never knew my father, nor did I know any of his family.

"Well, where does the money come from, and how does it get here?" I asked my mother 
once, and she scolded me, telling me that I was a persistent, curious child, and that one day, 
my curiosity would get the better of me.

Perhaps that day has arrived. Who knows? I am quite curious to find out where I am, but 
sometimes I think that maybe I am better off not knowing. For right now, my body is aching 
with pain from all the sexual abuse I had withstood, and were I to find out more of where I am,
I might have to take more abuse, too.

Well, my mother had made a fine meal. I can feel my mouth dripping as I think about the 
tender veal and the fresh vegetables along with it.

We never did get to eat that last meal.

For just as she was about to cut the veal, there was a knock at the door. My mother walked
over to answer it, and as the door opened, she was flung across the room. The door was 
kicked all the way open, and there were three large men standing there.

They were men who I had seen around the town quite often, but there had never been any
reason for me to talk to them.

"What do you want?" my mother screamed, and I can't remember ever seeing her quite as 
fearful as she was then. When I think about it now, maybe she had known already what the 
men were there for.

They didn't speak. Instead, they entered our small house and locked the door. One man, a 
burly fellow with thick red hair, ran over to my mother and slapped her across the face, hard. I 
opened my mouth to scream, just as a second man walked behind me and put his large hand 
over my mouth.

I tried to bite him, and when I did, I could feel his hand moving down to my breast.

He ripped the front of my blouse open and started to fondle my nipple. I could feel my 
brown dart starting to stiffen, and I cried out with a combination of pain and pleasure.

You see, it was the first time anyone had ever touched my breast.

I was only fifteen at the time. That could have been a year ago, or two years ago. I have 
lost all track of time, living in a confining cell where one hardly ever sees the sun, and usually 
ends up seeing by faint candlelight.

The shock of him touching my breast was there, as well as a pure sexual feeling.

The man holding me had thick blond hair, and suddenly, before I knew what was 
happening, the third man, a solid fellow with black hair and a beard, moved his hand to my 
dress and ripped it right off.

He moved his hand to my cunt and started to touch my cunt lips.

I was a virgin then.

I prayed to God that He would save me from the men, for I knew then that they were after 
my body, and that I would be raped and hurt.

I knew it for sure when I looked over at my mother. The red haired man had forced her 
face forward against the table, knocking off the festive meal we had been prepared to eat. She
was completely naked and her large tits were being pressed against the wooden table by the 
man's full body weight.

He was ramming his cock in and out of her cunt from behind. It was the first time I had 
ever seen two people having intercourse, and I have to admit that even with the violent 
circumstances surrounding us, I was getting turned on watching the man's throbbing cock. It 
seemed to get wetter and wetter as he fucked her.

"Do you like that?" the man with the black hair asked me. "No, I don't even have to ask 
you that. Your cunt is starting to get wetter, just watching them. Keep fucking her John, and 
we will turn on the young girl."

"Please," my mother was moaning, as John (I assume that was his name since the fellow 
with the black hair called him that) fucked her, "don't hurt my daughter. She is young, and she
was never taken before."

"Aha," the black haired man said. "We have a virgin."

"Yes, we do, Robert," the blond man who was still groping my tit said. "A girl can only be 
fucked once, and then she is no longer a virgin. How are we to decide who will be the one 
who gets the honor to do it?"

"It is just between you and me, Peter. John already has his piece of cunt. Now it is for you 
and I to fight over."

The blond man let go of me, as did the one with the black hair. For a second, I thought of 
running to the door and trying to escape.

However, I knew it would be senseless. By the time I would get the sliding bolt open, I 
would have been grabbed. And if I had gotten out, I wouldn't have known where to run. After 
all, I was completely naked by that time, without a stitch of clothing to wear.

The two men who had been holding me looked like they were about to fight. They were 
.circling around each other, trying to decide who was going to make the first plunge that 
would start their battle.

Suddenly, John, the man fucking my mother pulled his cock out.

"I'm going to take her, you two fools," he said. "I can't believe that you would even bother 
to fight over her. Assholes!"

As soon as he had pulled out of my mother, she did try to run. For by that time, the three 
men were all looking at me with evil lust.

My mother dashed toward the front door, and as she tried to pull the bolt open, Peter, the
one with the blond hair, pulled a large whip out of his pocket and lashed it out at her. I 
watched the bloody leather make its mark on her back, leaving a large gash that started to 
bleed instantly.

My mother fell to the floor and started to cry.

"Grab her," John commanded, and the two of them did.

Then, he turned to me. Out of all the men, I would say that he looked the most evil. It was 
not only his burly red hair and his evil stare that bothered me, but there was one, even more 
important thing.

He was the only man with his cock hanging out of his pants, and it was thick, bulging, and 
quite threatening toward me. He started to rub it as he moved closer, and I stepped back until
I felt my ass pressing against the wall.

"There is nowhere else to go now, virgin cunt," he said, spitting out the last two words so 
that I trembled even more.

He pressed his body against mine, then planted his lips on my mouth. As he pushed his 
tongue between my lips, I started to suck on it.

He had a nice flavor in his mouth, I must admit, and I didn't mind sucking on his tongue 
until I felt him pressing his cock against my pussy patch. He was rubbing it there with his 
hand, and I could feel his thick cock head stimulating my pussy lips.

I started to cry right then and there. I had always pictured losing my virginity as a holy, 
glorious experience that would be all pleasure.

I had never, in my wildest imagination, dreamed that I would be the victim of some mad 
rapists who had just broken into our house.

As I cried, he stopped kissing me, then threw me down on my bed.

You see, my mother and I lived in a one room house, and I was only standing a few feet 
away from my bed. I landed on my back, with my legs spread wide.

"Ah, a receptive pussy," John said, and then he climbed on the bed between my spread 
legs and started to rub his cock against my cunt lips.

"Please," I begged, "don't do it."

He rammed his way into me, and I could feel a ripping pain running through my entire 
body. It was gruesome. I know that he had ripped through my hymen.

For you see, my mother had told me all about sex when I was fourteen, and we had 
learned of all these young neighbors who were having sex.

My mother thought that I might start fucking around, too, and she wanted me to know 
just what I would be in for if I did.

She had told me all about a girl's first time, and the physical problems that occurred 
because of the hymen skin and the man's cock having to break through it.

"If the man is gentle enough, then it won't hurt," my mother said to me.

Well, this burly redheaded man was not even trying to be gentle. He rammed right 
through my hymen, and didn't even wait for the pain to subside. Instead, he continued to 
thrust his cock in and out of me, hard.

Not only was he thrusting, but he was also grinding his cock around inside of me. That 
stretched my pussy a great deal more than he would have had he just been thrusting, and it 
took about ten minutes into the fuck before I started to feel sexual pleasure.

The pleasure snuck up on me very slowly.

But when I did feel it, I couldn't help but start to moan. I've discovered, through all the 
experiences I've had now, that even when there is pain involved, I might end up moaning, 
once the sexual pleasure starts running through my body. I think it's a terrible thing, for 
usually, it makes the man who's on top of me think that I'm having a good time, and he will 
continue as long as possible.

I know that once I started moaning while John was fucking me, he moved his mouth back 
to mine and started kissing me again. When I thrust my tongue into his mouth, he bit it hard, 
then laughed.

"You scum," I heard my mother yelling. "I hate all of you. When he finds out what you're 
doing, you'll all pay. He won't let you get away with this."

"Shut that bitch up," John said. "She's interrupting my fuck."

I heard my mother grunting a few minutes later, and it wasn't until the man with the red 
hair stopped kissing me and I had a chance to turn my head, that I saw just what was 
happening with my mother.

She was thrown across the table again, face down. Only this time, the other two men were 
working her over. The one with the black hair was fucking her cunt, so I thought. I was to see 
later that he had been fucking her asshole, for there was a great deal of blood there when he 
was finished. The blond man was shoving his cock in and out of my mother's mouth and that 
was the reason for her gagging.

I couldn't believe how big a cock the blond man had. His was only the third cock I ever 
saw in my life, number one and two belonging to the other men. Since I've seen many more 
now, since that first experience, I can honestly say that the blond was the biggest so far.

I think about the size of his cock meat, and I can hardly believe that my mother was able 
to take the thing in her mouth. I've sucked large cocks, and I can hardly get them down my 
throat without gagging.

Of course, you must remember, my mother was being forced. There was nothing that she 
could do but keep her mouth open as the man thrust that monstrous organ, and I'm sure that
she might have even been amazing herself.

I started to feel John's cock pulsating in my pussy soon afterwards. By that time, I'd say the
pleasure level had far surpassed the pain, so that when he did bulge inside of me, I liked the 
effect it had on my pussy.

I could feel myself starting to spasm harder around his dick, and when he grunted he 
started to shoot off inside of me, too. I didn't really know what was happening that first time. 
All I know is that I was wet and after he grunted, I felt myself getting wetter. Only I knew that 
it wasn't happening because of anything having to do with my body, so I just assumed that he
was shooting something inside of me.

His cock kept filling me more and more, until I had some warm liquid running down my 
thigh. He kept thrusting until his cock fell out of my cunt.

As he stood up, I tried to sit up. He pushed me down on the bed.

"Not so fast, bitch. This isn't over." Then he turned to the blond man. "Peter, since your 
cock is the biggest, you can take her second. She's been stretched enough by me, so she'll 
only have to stretch a little bit more for you."

Peter pulled his throbbing organ out of my mother's mouth. It was dripping with her 
saliva, and he smacked her across the nose a few times, laughing, then walked over to me and
leered at me. I looked at a drop of come forming at his cock slit.

"You'll kill her with that thing," my mother screamed.

John moved in front of her and started to rub his spent cock on her face.

"Shut your fucking mouth, you cunt. Now you start sucking my cock and hope that you 
get it hard again for me, because if you don't, I'll pull your goddamn tits off."

He rammed his limp cock into her mouth, and I could tell that my mother was kind of 
relieved, and I could even understand where the relief stemmed from. When you think about 
the fact that she had just been sucking a monstrous cock, and now all she had to deal with 
was a limp little dick, you can probably understand her relief, too. She was able to suck his 
cock and balls into her mouth, and as she told me later on, she was positive that sucking his 
cock and balls was what got him hard again so fast.

Meanwhile, I had to contend with the blond man named Peter.

He got on his knees between my legs, then moved his hand to my pussy. He rubbed my 
cunt lips for a second, and it wasn't until he lifted his fingers up that I noticed my virgin blood 
there.

I started to cry, and I screamed that I was going to bleed to death.

I really believed it, too, but I was also hoping that he would decide not to fuck me because
of my crying.

I was wrong. He started to laugh, then said something about if I'm bleeding to death, he 
might as well try to plug me up so the blood stops running.

Then, he slammed his meat into me. I felt his cock bone sliding over my clitoris and the 
pleasure did feel kind of nice, from the start. It was a little uncomfortable when my pussy first 
had to stretch to let his cock in, but once I had grown accustomed to his huge size and was 
stretched accordingly, it wasn't bad.

God, forgive me. I cannot believe the words that have come out of my pencil.

I am saying how pleased I was with the sin of lust. I had learned all my life how great a sin 
lust was, and here I am, confessing to pleasures that I received from forced sex. I feel like some
kind of whore.

But I am not. You must believe me. I wish that night had never occurred. Then I would still 
be home with my mother, instead of here, wherever that may be.

Peter fucked me for the longest time. There were many moments when I felt his cock 
pulsating inside of me, and when that happened, he seemed even thicker than he was 
normally. However, he didn't come for a long time.

At one point, I heard the man with the black hair starting to moan, and I looked over just 
as he was pulling his cock out of my mother's asshole. His cock looked red, and that red was 
my mother's blood.

The man started to stroke his shaft hard, and I suddenly saw this white creamy substance 
shooting out onto her back and ass cheeks. I couldn't believe how much of it there was, but 
that was the first time I had ever seen anyone coming.

He shot one load after another, laughing the whole time.

By that time, John, the man with the red hair, had another erection, and he was holding 
my mother's cheeks as he slammed his cock in and out of her mouth. I still think that she 
didn't mind that cock, in comparison with the blond man's cock, for it was at least two inches 
shorter and a little thinner.

"You're good," Peter whispered in my ear.

"Please, why are you doing this? If I could understand it, then maybe I wouldn't mind it too
much. Can't you tell me?"

"He wants it done to you," Peter said to me.

"Who? I don't know who you're talking about. Tell me his name."

"That's something I cannot do. I made a vow that I would never do that. If I did, he would 
not pay us the money he promised us."

I was shocked. I still am, as I think about it. For as it turned out, someone paid those three 
men to attack my mother and myself, and I would still like to know who it was. If I ever found 
out and ever ran across that man, I wouldn't hesitate to scratch his eyes out.

Listen to me! There was a time, once, when I wouldn't have thought of hurting anyone, but
now, after all the things that have happened to me, I have learned how to hate and how to 
think of evil plans for revenge.

I remember, at the time when Peter's cock started to pulsate so hard inside of me and he 
moaned enough to let me know that he was ready to come, I thought of how much I would 
like to get my revenge on him.

But I didn't have to. Someone else decided to do it, not only to him, but to the other two 
men. I don't think they were ever paid for what they were supposed to do.

For if they were, why did the three of them end up hanging in the dungeon? I saw them 
once, and even witnessed them being tortured.

I'm sure that all three of them are dead by now. They looked like they were just hanging 
on to the last breath of life the last time I saw them.

So who is this evil man behind the whole thing? He must have been the one who first 
promised to pay them, then had them taken prisoner and tortured to death. He must have 
done that so he didn't have to pay them.

Peter started to shoot thick loads of come into my cunt, and he pulled his cock back and 
shot a few small loads onto my black pussy patch. He had such a triumphant look on his face 
as he shot his last few loads, and he even moved his hand down to my cunt patch and rubbed
the come around there.

I looked over, just as John pulled his cock out of my mother's mouth and started to come 
all over her face. He called the other two men by name so they would look over and see the 
way his come was dripping down her nose and cheeks.

They all laughed with him.

I sat up and started to hit Peter on the chest with my fists, thinking that if I could catch him
off guard, I might be able to do something. My blows didn't even affect him, except when it 
came to making him angry.

He pulled his hand back and slapped me across the face so hard, that I passed out.

The next thing that I remember is waking up in blackness, and feeling myself bouncing up 
and down. It seemed to me like I was in some kind of a large sack, but I wasn't that sure. We 
must have been on a wagon, too, being taken somewhere.

The road was bumpy, and I started to cry.

I thought that I heard someone moaning next to me, and I whispered, calling my mother's 
name to see if it was her. There was no answer, except for a few more moans, and I passed out
again. The next time I woke up, I was in a dark dungeon, in chains.

I was chained to the wall. My hands were manacled and stretched over my head, and I was
completely naked. I looked down at my body and saw that some of my pussy hairs had been 
burned away. My cunt lips were red and wet, and I was pretty sure that I must have been 
abused while I had been unconscious.

I know that I was abused once I awoke.





CHAPTER TWO


I couldn't have been awake for more than five minutes when I felt something lashing across 
my breasts. It touched my breasts, and for a second, it just seemed like a light wind. Then I 
looked down and saw a fine line trickle of blood, where the whip had touched me, but for only
a second.

Then I heard some laughing, and tried to clear my vision.

There was hardly any light to see by then, and I had to squint as I saw a figure 
approaching me. It was a man with a thick, black-haired chest. He was wearing nothing but a 
loin cloth, and carrying a thick leather whip in his hand.

"So, you are awake then," he said to me.

"Please, you must tell me where I am and what is going to happen to me."

"I don't know what is going to happen to you, and as for where you are, that has to remain
a secret."

"Please, I'll do anything for you if you tell me.

He started to laugh, then moved his mouth over to my tit and bit into my nipple.

"You foolish girl. Do you really think that you're in a position to bargain with me? I can 
have you do anything you want without telling you where you are."

Suddenly, he reached up and opened the cuffs that were cutting into my wrists. I felt my 
feet touching the floor, and I started to sink to my knees. I guess my legs were very weak then.
I had no idea how much time had passed since the night of my abduction, but I'm sure that I 
hadn't been standing since then.

As I sunk to my knees, he pulled my head to his loin cloth.

My mouth was rubbing against the bulge that I knew had to be his cock, and after less 
than a few seconds, I noticed that his cock was stiffening under the loin cloth. His cock head 
started to stick out on one side, and he forced my head down there and told me that I should 
lick it.

I did as he said, for he was pulling my long black hair and hurting me.

I started to flick my tongue back and forth over his cock head, and I did like the taste. I 
was also glad that his full cock was not exposed, for I was afraid that he might force me to 
suck it, the way the men had forced my mother.

At that time, I didn't consider myself ready to take a cock down my throat.

The man didn't force me to lick his cock head for long. For after only a few minutes, I 
heard footsteps approaching. He pushed me away from his cock and then pushed his cock 
head back under the loin cloth.

I looked up, just in time to see a monk approaching.

"Father," I said to him, pulling at his robe. "Oh, father, please help me. You must help me. 
I'm being held prisoner here against my will. I don't know why."

He slapped me across the face. I could not believe that a man of God would be so cruel to 
one of God's children. He hit me harder than anyone else had, then told me to shut my 
fucking mouth, in those exact words.

"Bring her with you," he commanded the man in the loin cloth to do.

The man reached down and pulled me to my feet. It was still very hard for me to stand, 
and in the end, he practically dragged me where we were going. It was down some narrow 
dark corridors, lit only by one or two torches hanging from the wall. It was almost like a 
catacomb, so I thought.

We ended up in a room, no bigger than the one where I had been chained to the wall.

I looked up and saw a young boy hanging from manacles, in the middle of the room. He 
was completely naked and unconscious. I knew that boy.

His name was David, and he didn't live too far away from where I had lived.

I had never seen him naked before, and I must admit that I liked what I saw. He had a little 
hair around each nipple, but he had the thickest patch of brown hair around his cock. His cock
was limp, as his whole body seemed to be, but I did get to see what it was like hard, later on.

The monk must have sensed the looked of recognition in my face.

"You know this boy?" he asked me.

"Yes," I said, and I could hardly even get my words out. My throat was dry.

"Then you know the things he has been doing?"

"No"

"He has been selling his sister as a whore so he could make extra money. He is here to 
confess and beg repentance."

The father walked in front of David and slapped him across the face a few times, as a way 
to try and get him up. When David only moaned, but didn't regain consciousness, the father 
took a pail of water and threw it on his face.

It took a few minutes for him to open his eyes and focus on me.

"Roxanne," he said, his voice low and breathy, "what are you doing here?"

"I don't know," I said.

"We've missed you for the past few days. You and your mother just seemed to have 
disappeared one night, a few nights ago, and... " I heard a loud cracking sound, at the same 
time that the look of pain registered on David's face. I looked behind him. The thick black 
haired man had whipped him across the back, and he stood there proudly with his hands on 
his hips.

"Good," the monk said to him. "The one thing we don't need is a village reunion here.

We're not interested in that shit."

"What are you interested in then?" David asked the man.

"A confession from you, young thing. A confession about what you have been doing for 
your sister. How you have been getting her men from the village and making them pay for the
use of her cunt."

"That is a lie," David moaned, and the monk slapped him across the face.

"We know that it is not a lie," the man said, and I thought I saw him smiling.

He was like the other three men who had abducted my mother and myself. He seemed to 
be enjoying the pain that he was inflicting.

When he slapped David, I gasped. After all, David was so weak, and I could not believe 
that a man would treat him like that.

"You are upset by a mere slap?" he asked me. "If that troubles you, I don't know how you 
are going to get through it all."

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

He reached into his robes and pulled out a whip, that had nine leather ends on it. I had 
never seen anything like that before.

He pulled me over to him and forced the whip into my hand, then pushed me in front of 
David. David looked up at me, and my heart went out to him. It I had felt any pain in my own 
body, I could tell that whatever he had felt, thus far, was worse.

"Whip him," the monk said to me, with commanding authority.

"I cannot whip him. He is a friend of mine."

The monk beckoned for the other man to walk over to him. As soon as he did, he pulled 
his thicker whip back and I felt it stinging across my back and buttocks. I turned around in 
time to see it snap against my right buttock, and I screamed in pain. My voice echoed through
the large dungeon.

The man whipped me again, and was readying a third lash when the monk held up his 
hand and stopped him.

"Now, will you do as you are commanded?"

"No, I will not," I said.

I looked at David, and I could see a tear rolling out of his eye. He started to move his lips, 
though, and I moved closer so I could hear.

"Do what he tells you, Roxanne. You will suffer unless you make me suffer. I can take it. I'm 
stronger than you are."

"Listen to the boy. He talks good sense."

The man in the loin cloth lashed the whip out one more time, and that time it cut into my 
skin. I noticed a trickle of blood on my buttocks, and I cried, too.

I pulled my whip back and lashed it across David's chest. You can believe that I did not put 
much power behind my lashing. I did not want to hurt him, and I thought that as long as I 
could whip him lightly, without the monk noticing, I would be okay.

As I whipped him, I noticed that his cock started to stir. At first, I wasn't really sure it that 
was happening. I couldn't understand why that would happen to anyone. However, it 
continued to lengthen and thicken, until it was sticking straight up.

"Now that you have aroused him, you will whip him so it hurts," the monk said.

He had known all along, and he had seen what was happening to David. He just waited 
until David was fully hard before he ordered me. I didn't listen to him, and when I didn't, he 
walked up behind me, took hold of my arm, then started to guide it so I was whipping David 
much harder.

I was drawing no blood, but I could see red lash marks forming on his chest.

The monk was wrenching at my arm, so much, that I thought he was going to pull it right 
off. My arm was aching for days after that.

As the monk forced me to whip David, I felt him rubbing his groin against my naked 
buttocks. I didn't notice it at first, mind you, but when he started to get aroused and his cock 
was pressing out from under his robe, I could definitely feel it.

His throbbing dick was pressing between my buttocks, and since his robe was made of a 
light material, it almost felt like it was entering my asshole.

David's dick was throbbing, meanwhile, and I could see one drop of come at the tip of it. I 
don't know if the monk saw me licking my lips. He might have. For the next thing I knew, he 
was telling me to lean over and suck his cock.

I was more than willing to do that.

You see, it was going to be the first time that I was ever able to suck a cock. And I was not 
being forced to do it, either. I mean, he was telling me to do it, but I knew that I would be able
to do it nicely if I wanted to.

I cupped his balls in my hand as I started to flick my tongue back and forth over the slit of 
his cock. I licked away that small drop of come. It was the first wet thing I had had in my 
mouth in a long time, and I was glad that it tasted so good, too.

David shivered when I first licked his cock head, and I thought that he might not like what I
was doing. But then, I heard him moaning lightly, and I knew that his shivering had been 
because of the pleasure running through his body.

"Don't make him come," the monk said to me. "If you do, you will regret it."

I heard what he said, but didn't really care.

I could still feel him rubbing his cock bulge against my ass, and I moved my hand behind 
my body and started to pull his robe up slowly. I had one particular thought in mind.

I was thinking that maybe if I could turn the monk on enough, he might be willing to let 
me go. Sexual pleasure, my mother had once told me, is definitely one way in which a woman 
can control her man.

"A man's cock can become very sensitive," she had told me. "Males rely on their cocks for 
so much. And they get turned on so easily, unlike a woman. If you can turn on a man, 
sometimes, without losing your own self-control, then you can easily control him. You'll learn 
that when you're older."

I was trying to put my mother's advice into practical use.

The monk's cock didn't feel as big as David's did. He was fully hard, and his cock felt much 
smoother than David's. I started to rub him between my buttocks.

By that time, David was thrusting in and out of my mouth, at his own steady pace. I was 
still cradling his balls, and I was sucking on his cock like crazy. I had built up a great deal of 
saliva in my mouth while sucking him off, and I knew that he was probably feeling really great 
with his dick getting so wet and warm.

At one point, I felt his cock throbbing in my mouth. That was when he stopped thrusting, 
and as I looked up at him, I sensed why he had stopped.

He had been on the verge of coming, and he had remembered what the monk had said to
me. If he were to come, I would be punished.

As I said, I really didn't care what that monk said.

And I kept thinking that this might be the last time that David would have a chance to 
come. There was no reason not to take him all the way.

So I started to move my mouth fast, up and down his shaft. I could feel the pulsations 
starting up again, and he started to moan louder.

"No, Roxanne," he was saying. "Don't do that. Stop that. I cannot hold back any longer and
you are going to make me... ahhhh!"

I felt his come shooting into my mouth, and I let it sit on my tongue for the longest time 
before swallowing it. I loved the taste of it, for one thing, but since it was so wet, I wanted to 
keep it there. I had no idea when they would give me something to drink. I did swallow it 
eventually.

But before I had a chance, I could feel the monk leaning over and reaching for my hanging
tits. He moved his two hands to my nipples and started to pinch them so hard that I let out a 
loud scream. He twisted them then, and that made everything worse.

"Please, I'm sorry," I was saying.

"I told you not to let him come, and you disobeyed me."

He stopped pinching my nipples and stood up. As he did, two things happened. First, I felt
him forcing two fingers up my asshole. He stretched my ass skin so wide, and I could feel a 
burning pain.

At the same time, I felt a lashing across my back, and looked over in time to see the man 
in the loin cloth catch the whip back in his hand.

However, he lashed me again, with an expert technique like I had never though possible.

The monk was laughing as he turned his fingers this way and that way inside of me, quite 
aware of the pain that I was feeling because of it.

"You will learn, by pain," he kept telling me.

"Please, I did not know when he was going to come. I swear to you. I have never sucked on
a cock before, and I know very little about them."

"Then you will learn," he screamed at me.

He turned my body around by moving his and pulling me with him. We were facing the 
thick, hairy man in the loin cloth. Suddenly, he pulled his loin cloth off and his hard-on 
popped out.

His was even bigger than Peter's, the blond man who had fucked me.

His balls were hanging so low, too, and as he moved closer, I saw them swinging back and 
forth. He was directing his cock right at my mouth, and suddenly he pressed it against my lips 
and forced his way in.

I had thought of keeping my lips clenched shut, but realized, very soon, that his force 
would break through. Had I clenched my teeth, I swear that his thick, powerful cock, would 
have smashed them. I know it would have.

He rammed his way deep into my throat, and I could feel myself starting to gag 
immediately. I couldn't breathe too well, either, and I felt tears starting to roll down my 
cheeks. The man grabbed my cheeks and rubbed the tears over my skin.

At the same time, he was able to hold my face steady.

"Now, when he starts to pulsate and you feel like your throat is going to stretch so wide 
that it splits open, you'll know he is going to come," the monk said.

I took that as a threat. I mean, I had no idea where I was, and why I was being held 
prisoner, so as far as I was concerned, I could be killed at any time. f I thought that the monk 
wanted the man's throbbing cock to really split my throat and kill me. I'm sure that it could of.

However, when he did start to pulsate, I only felt the first hard throb in my throat. For 
then, he pulled his cock back so that he wasn't so deep and started to jerk his shaft a little, his 
clenched fist hitting me in the mouth.

Then I felt him shooting his come onto my tongue.

I swallowed it immediately. It was not as sweet as David's come had been. In fact, there 
was something of a bitter taste to it, and I didn't want that taste to be lingering in my mouth 
for too long.

When he pulled out, the monk turned me back toward David.

I was rather surprised to see that David's cock was hard again. For a weak man, he 
certainly had a strong cock. I guess his watching me sucking off the man had turned him on, 
but I'm not all that sure.

"Now," the monk said, "you know what it's like to bring him to the point of orgasm. You 
will suck him again. If you make him come again, I will see to it that you die a slow, painful 
death. I am not joking, either, young one."

He pushed my head toward David's cock again, and I started to lick it this time, rather than
suck it into my mouth. I watched his cock twitching about when I licked it, and I discovered 
that he was more sensitive when I ran my tongue along the underside of his cock, rather than 
anywhere else.

After about two minutes, I sucked his cock head between my lips.

He started to moan, and he throbbed. I pulled my mouth away, though, very much aware 
of the monk's threat.

Suddenly, I heard some lashing sounds. I looked up at David and saw the pained 
expression on his face once again. I knew that the man in the loin cloth was standing behind 
him and whipping him at a steady pace.

I moved my mouth back to his cock, determined to bring him more pleasure from my 
mouth than pain that he was getting from the whip.

"Confess," the monk started to scream. "Confess that you have been getting customers for
your sister. Confess, foolish boy!"

Suddenly, I felt the monk pulling his fingers out of my asshole. I heard him spitting, then 
felt his wet cock head rubbing against my asshole. He rammed his way right into me, with one
long painful thrust.

I would have screamed, had I not been sucking on David's dick.

Instead, I must have bit down, just a little, before I realized what I was doing. However, 
David did let out a louder groan when I did that, and I knew that he must have felt my teeth 
biting into him.

I started to suck him harder, trying not to concentrate on the pain in my asshole.

The monk was still screaming, and I looked up at David and saw him moving his lips, 
almost as if he was praying.

I couldn't hear any of his words though.

The monk was slamming his cock in and out of my asshole with such a force, that he was 
pushing me against David's body so often. There were times when my head was smashing 
into his groin and stomach, against my will, of course.

I could feel David's cock throbbing with life soon, and I had to pull my mouth away. The 
monk rubbed my back and complimented me, and I just kept my eyes on David's poor dick. It 
looked like it wanted to shoot so badly.

I waited until his pulsations subsided again, and then I moved my mouth back.

The monk was screaming the whole time, telling David that he was going to have to 
confess, screaming about how the Lord was watching him, and how He knew what David had 
done already and would make him rot in hell for it.

I started to think about something then, and it's been going through my mind ever since 
that time.

If God sees all that we do, then He must know what the monks have done, and what I have
seen the nuns doing, too. He must see it. He has to.

And if they are servants of the Lord, how can they be doing that?

The monks and the nuns are the ones who tell us how much we should love the Lord, and 
they preach against vice and sin, too. Yet I have seen so much of it from them, that I am very 
much confused.

The monk's cock was pulsating in my asshole when David opened his mouth and started 
to confess. I will never forget the words that left his lips.

"Our Father, in heaven, bless me for I have sinned. I have sinned the sin of incest. I have 
made love to my sister on many occasions. I have entered her and felt the pleasures that she 
can give. But I have never brought anyone else home for her. I would never do anything like 
that. I love her, and I love the things that she does for me. I love the way she makes me feel 
when I am inside of her. But I do confess, and I beg for Your forgiveness. I will not feel the 
pleasure anymore."

Just then, the monk's cock exploded inside of me, and I could feel him shooting out load 
after load of come. It was the most relaxing part of his fucking my asshole, for his creamy 
warm come lubricated my ass walls, and his cock started to shrink the moment he shot off 
inside of me.

I wiggled my ass a little, in the hopes that he would pull out.

Meanwhile, David's cock was starting to throb in my mouth, and I kept sucking so hard 
because I wanted him to shoot off right away.

He did. He didn't shoot as much come as he had before, but I was glad for the sweet taste 
of it, rather than the bitter taste from the other man's come.

The father pulled his cock out of me, then looked at what I was doing to David. He knew 
that David was coming, and I closed my eyes and prepared myself for death. After all, that was
what he had promised me were I to make David come again.

I drank the last of his juices, then stood up and looked at the father.

"You may kill me now."

"I am not concerned with you," he said. "I am more concerned with this one here. So, you 
have confessed finally, but to a sin worse than the one you were accused of. You are a fool, as 
I've said before. You should have known better. You should have confessed to what you were 
accused of. It wasn't so bad."

"What are you going to do to me?" David asked, as the monk let his robe fall to the floor 
and reached into his pocket. He was moving closer and closer to David.

"I cannot let you repeat that vile sin with your sister. I must see to it that you never sin like 
that again."

I screamed as he pulled a knife out of his pocket and moved it close to David's balls. Then 
I closed my eyes, but I did hear David screaming...





CHAPTER THREE


I have just learned something very important from the young slave boy who has been secretly 
getting me all these supplies for me to write with.

I should tell a little bit about him, though.

I first met him after David's castration. I was led back through a catacomb-like maze, and 
thought that I was going to be chained to the wall once again. Instead, I was led to a large 
room with something resembling a prison cell.

There was one on each side of the room. The males and females were separated.

Most of them were naked, as I was, but those who wore clothes only wore tattered rags. 
There were about seven females in the cell where I was thrown.

"Where am I?" I asked one, as soon as I entered.

She started to laugh, and her large pink-nippled tits were bouncing up and down. And 
then, she suddenly lunged at me.

I tried to run away, but I noticed that all of the women were circling around me. They were 
like caged animals, all panting. I saw all these tits heaving up and down, and some of them 
were already beginning to finger their own pussies.

The blonde who I had talked to lunged at me again and knocked me down on the floor. 
Before I had a chance to get up, I was being surrounded by all the women. Some grabbed at 
my arms, and others grabbed my legs.

They dragged me over to this cot in the middle of the room, and then they started to 
attack me sexually.

I felt one woman moving her mouth down to my pussy while my legs were yanked apart.

Another woman pushed her pussy down over my face.

At first, I was, quite repulsed. I was just getting used to cocks, and I had never heard of a 
woman licking another woman before. Besides, her pussy did not smell all that terrific. 
However, once I started to taste her juices as they flowed onto my tongue, I didn't mind them 
at all.

But that took a while. She spread her cunt lips and I could see her little clit. I started to flick
my tongue back and forth over it, and before I knew what was happening, her pussy spasmed.

I felt her cunt walls around my tongue, but she wasn't getting wet.

I had to keep licking her until she did. By that time, my pussy was spasming pretty well. It 
had to have been the best orgasm of my life, at the time. Of course, I hadn't had too many 
others, and the circumstances under which they had occurred were no better than these.

However, the woman who was licking my pussy really seemed to know what she was 
doing. She was working my clit over well, and when my cunt would start to spasm, I would feel
her licking the cream off my walls.

It seems as if her tongue was covering every inch of flesh inside of me, and soon, another 
woman took over.

They alternated. When I was finished licking the woman's cunt, she got up and another 
one pushed her pussy over my face. I didn't even get to see what they looked like until later. 
Up until that point, they were only tongues and pussies.

There was only so much energy that I had inside. After about three of my own intense 
orgasms, I fainted. I couldn't help it.

I felt them starting to push my body back and forth, probably in the hopes that I would 
wake up and then continue the way I was going. However, I didn't open my eyes. I just drifted 
off into a long, pleasant sleep.

When I woke up, I don't know how much later, there were only about five of them in the 
room. They were sitting on the floor, eating out of these bowls. They really did look like 
animals.

"Can I have something to eat?" I asked one of the women.

She kicked me right in the cunt, then went back to eating.

I started to bang on the bars, screaming for someone to come because I was hungry.

That was when I first saw the slave boy. He was wearing a loin cloth, too, like the older 
man I had seen before.

However, he wasn't half as wide as the older man had been. He had light blond hair and 
blue eyes, and very fair skin. He was rather bony, when I think about it.

He has changed over the years, I must admit, putting on a few pounds so that he looks 
much better.

"Please," I said, reaching out to touch him, "I want something to eat."

He pointed to the others, as if to tell me to share with them.

"They won't let me. Please, I'm dying. I need some nourishment."

He turned and walked away, and I started to scream for him again. However, he walked 
out of the room, and I fell on the floor and cried. Two minutes later, I heard someone rapping 
on the bars, and when I looked up, I saw that he was holding out a bowl of food for me. It was
some kind of awful porridge, but at least it was nourishing.

I thanked him, but he didn't say anything at all to me.

He has never said anything to me, and I didn't know why until a few weeks ago when he 
opened his mouth and showed me that he had no tongue there. I gasped as I looked inside. It
was easy to tell that someone had cut out his tongue.

By that time, a few months ago, I mean, I was the only woman left in the cell. The others 
had been taken out, and some of them would return for a while.

I think they must have been being used, the way I was, and still am being used.

Anyway, it wasn't until I was the only one left in the cell that the handsome blond boy 
started staying longer so I could talk to him. It did take something else...

Up until a few months ago, he had been as cold and aloof as he had always been.

But then, one afternoon, when we were the only two in the room, I started talking to him. I
kept asking him all kinds of questions about where we were, and why we were being held 
prisoner.

He started to walk away, as he always did, and I reached out and touched his chest. By that
time, I had seduced so many men who were being tortured, that I knew just what I was doing 
with him.

I stroked his pink nipple and felt it stiffening under my touch.

Then I let my hand slide down to his groin, and I could feel a nice sized cock under the loin
cloth he wore. I started to stroke it, and when I did, he turned and faced the cell. I pulled his 
cock out and he pushed it between the bars.

He had a nice cock, and since I had sucked a lot of bigger ones by that time, I knew that I 
would be able to do a nice job on his. I kept thinking, too, that if I could make him come, he 
might even say a few words.

It was after he had come that he opened his mouth and showed me what was there.

I pulled his cock close to my lips and started to lick it with my tongue. I could feel how 
weak he was getting when I did that. He started to thrust his cock into my mouth, and that's 
when I decided to let him do just what he wanted.

He grabbed my cheeks through the bars and fucked my face.

However, I didn't mind it. His cock didn't bother my throat at all by that time, and I knew 
that he would be coming soon, too. I had learned how to judge how close a man was to 
orgasm, by holding onto his thighs and feeling how taut they would get.

This slave's thighs got taut very fast, and then he groaned as he started to shoot his seed 
into my mouth.

I swallowed it all, and then I stood up. I started to talk with him again, asking him all kinds 
of questions.

Then he showed me where his tongue had been.

"Did they do that to you here?" I asked, and he nodded his head.

One of the first things that I asked him to do was to get me some paper and pencils so I 
could start this diary. It took a few months before he could get them for me, and I would ask 
him all the time, but only when we were alone.

I asked him if he knew why I was being held there, and he shook his head no.

Then I asked him if there was anyone who knew why I was being held, and when he shook 
his head yes, I begged him to try and find out why.

He keeps promising that he will lead me to the person who knows, but he hasn't done it 
yet. I know that he will be risking his own life, and I'm sure he keeps thinking about that. 
However, I must know.

There is a burning desire inside of me that needs to find out.

I sit here now, writing, and waiting for him to return.

He has promised me that he will come back tonight and take me to the person who 
knows, so until he arrives, I will record some of the incidents that I have witnessed.

The most gruesome one that I saw happened to the three men who abducted me.

I cannot recall how soon after I had been taken prisoner that it happened. It could have 
been many, many months.

The cell was opened one morning by the man with the black haired body, and he walked 
over to me and grabbed me.

He started to drag me out of the cell, and I was dragged into a torture room.

By that time, I had been in so many different rooms, that they didn't even affect me. Most 
of them were small rooms with many manacles and chains hanging from the wall. There were 
torches and whips, and even large wooden phalluses. I had seen many phalluses shoved up 
the cunts and assholes of pleading women, and even shoved up the assholes of men who 
were being tortured.

There was a monk standing in this room, waiting for me.

"We thought that you might like to torture these men," he said.

"It seems to me that you have been training me to do things like this ever since I arrived. 
Do you assume that I receive pleasure from it?"

"We do not care if you do or not. All that matters is that you learn to carry out the tortures.
We need slaves like you."

"And what makes you think that I would like it this time?"

He just started to walk toward the three prisoners who were hanging by their wrists, all in 
the center of the room, a few feet from each other.

I had only seen them from the back, but when I walked in front of them, I gasped.

It was the three men. They all looked like they had been beaten already, but they were not 
unconscious. They looked up at me.

"Do you recognize these men?" the monk asked me.

"Yes, I do," I said.

"Well, you are here to torture them to death. Let us say it is your way of getting revenge 
for what they did to you and your poor mother."

"Do you know where my mother is?"

"Yes. She is alive, but you cannot see her now."

He took a whip from the wall and thrust it into my hand.

"You will use it now," he said.

I was half-dazed as I pulled my arm back and started to whip the men. I didn't even care 
about it then.

But as I think about it now, it bothers me, for now I know where I am.

I am being held in the dungeon on the monastery grounds. That is what the young slave 
boy told me. Well, he could not talk, so he drew a picture of it for me on the paper that he had
brought me. I asked him, at first, if he would write down where we were, but he had never 
been educated and he did not know how to write.

So I had asked him to draw a picture.

Once he drew a picture of the large gates that surround this place, I asked him if it was the
monastery, and he shook his head yes.

So all those tortures I've been carrying out have been done on church grounds.

I think of the way I whipped those men, and how eager I was to keep whipping them once 
I saw them bleeding, and I ask You, God, for Your forgiveness.

I thought of what John, the man with the red hair, had done to me, and I looked at him 
with such hatred. I know that I lashed him the hardest. There was one time when his skin 
seemed to peel away, and pools of blood began to drip.

They were screaming, too, but their screams fell on deaf ears.

The monk handed me a burning torch, and I burned away the hair around the red haired 
man's cock. There were moments when I thought about burning away his cock, too, but I just 
couldn't bring myself to do that.

After I had whipped them for a while, the monk pulled three phalluses off the wall, walked 
up behind them, then thrust one up each man's asshole.

They really screamed out then.

The monk took some water and held it to their lips so they could drink, and a few minutes 
later, they were dead. He had poisoned them.

He started to lead me back to my cell, and I pleaded with him to tell me where I was. I got 
on my knees and begged him.

Now, I don't have to plead anymore, for I know where I am.

The only thing that I want to find out is why. Why am I here and why are all these things 
happening to me?

I know now!

From the time of my last entry until now, I have been out of my cell and back. It all started 
when the young mute slave boy came to get me.

Before he would even take me out of the cell, he made me suck his cock and bring him to 
orgasm. I have been sucking his cock for him ever since the first time. It is one way for me to 
taste some good come, and a way for me to keep him as a friend and get all the supplies that 
I need.

He usually comes so fast, too, that I don't have to take such a long time.

After he came, he opened the cell door quietly. He put his finger over his lips to indicate 
that I should keep quiet. I knew enough to do that anyway.

We snuck out of the room, and he started to lead me down one dark corridor after 
another.

I cannot understand how he knew where he was going, although I am sure that he had 
walked those halls a thousand times over.

There was a burning torch at the end of each hallway, and that was really the only light 
that we had to guide us through on our journey.

When we finally arrived at the room where he wanted to take me, I was very surprised to 
see that there was a large wooden door there with a huge sliding bolt to keep the person 
inside a locked prisoner.

The slave started to pull the bolt open, then the door.

There was no light inside and I took a torch from the wall so I could see.

There was a small cot intone corner of the cell, and I saw a form lying on it. As soon as she 
saw the light, she started to moan.

"No, please, don't hurt me anymore. Please, I've been hurt enough already."

The form on the bed rolled over, and I saw that it was my mother. She looked very 
emaciated. Her cheek bones were sunken, and her eyes looked so glassy. She was holding a 
blanket around her body.

As soon as she saw me, she tried to sit up. The blanket fell away, and I saw how bruised 
and battered her body was.

She had also lost a lot of weight, and her tits, which had once been so full and firm, looked
smaller, also.

"Roxanne, is that really you?" she asked.

I hung the torch up on the wall and ran over to her. I got down on my knees and started 
to hug her. We were both crying.

"Mother, what are we doing here? Has the world gone mad?"

"Roxanne, tell me what they have been doing with you," she said.

"I don't really know. At first, I was in a cell with many women. None of them would talk 
with me. We would all be taken out of the cell every so often. I've been taught how to torture 
many men."

"Oh God, they are corrupting you."

"Mother, I have tortured the three men who abducted us. They are all dead now. The 
monk who was with me poisoned them."

She started to cry when she heard that, and I couldn't understand why.

Then, she started to explain.

"Those men were sent to get us by your father. They brought us here, and I have been 
locked in this cell ever since. It's been almost two years now. Those men would come and see 
me all the time, to abuse me. It got to the point where I didn't mind sucking a cock because it 
happened quite frequently.

"But then, a few months ago, or so it seemed, I had started to get on their better side. 
They treated me like scum at first, but they were starting to treat me better."

"What do you mean?" I asked her.

"They would let me do what I wanted to do with their cocks, rather than forcing 
themselves on me. John, the one with the red hair, would usually just lay back and let me 
service him. It was much easier to do what I wanted. At least he wouldn't ram that weapon 
down my throat. I would take it down as I could.

"And they started to talk with me, too. Before, they wouldn't listen to a thing that I said. I 
only suspected where we were being held, but I wasn't at all sure."

"We're being held in the dungeons of the monastery," I told her.

"I know that, child. I suspected it long ago, but I wasn't sure. John confirmed what I 
suspected one day when I was going down on his cock. I was licking him so tenderly, and 
stopping right before he would come so I would be able to try and get some information 
from him.

"He seemed to be more than willing to talk. I could tell that his religious beliefs were 
taking a turn for the better, and he was beginning to question why all these things were 
happening. Before then, he had been willing to carry out anything that the monks wanted, but
afterwards, he wanted answers."

"Did he ever get them?" I asked.

"I don't know. I told him that I knew many secrets. There is one secret that I know, which is
the reason for my captivity. I told him that with my secret revealed, we could get all the 
people from the village to turn against the church. At least this particular sect. If they knew 
what was going on here, they would never want to follow the rule of these monks and nuns. 
John seemed to like that idea. In fact, I had a chance to discuss it with all of the men."

"You mean that they would all be here at the same time?"

"No. They would all come at different times, but since they were friends, they would confer
among themselves and discuss the things that I did with them. In that way, the information 
that I passed along to one of them was spread among them.

"They all seemed to be wondering why these things were going on. I told them about the 
depraved lust of the monks, and how the monks had been using young girls for years. Most of
the times, it is only to satisfy their cravings, but of course, they try to make some excuse in 
order to carry out their evil dealings in the name of God.

"God would never stand for anything like this, and I wonder why He doesn't do anything 
to stop it."

I started to cry when my mother said that. She moved her lips to my forehead and started 
to kiss me gently.

"I was wondering about that myself, mother. How can something like this exist? This 
torture chamber is not what one would expect to find in a monastery."

"I expected to find it," my mother said to me. "When we were dragged out of the house by
those three men, I knew we would be taken here. And now, my only chance of escape has 
been thwarted. The information that you bring tells me so. You see, those men were 
beginning to think about what was going on, and I could see the conscience of each man 
working. I started them thinking on means for my escape."

"Oh God," I said. "Do you think that was why they were killed?"

"I realize now that it was the reason. You see, a few months ago, someone came into the 
cell. It was another man who I had never seen. He stood over my bed and whipped me until I 
thought I was going to bleed to death."

"Thank God you did not," I said.

"I prayed to God, begging Him to keep me alive. The man kept saying all these things 
about my plans to escape. He did not mention the three men, but I assumed that they had 
told him. I assumed that they had deceived me.

"Even if they did, which I doubt now, they paid for it. I just imagine that they must have 
been overheard by someone who reported them. After all, they would not have told any of 
the monks what I talked about with them, for they must have realized that they would be 
killed. That's why I believe that they were overheard."

"And they were killed. I saw them choke on the poison, one by one."

My mother was still crying, and I stroked her long blonde hair.

"They were evil men at first," she said to me. "But they saw the light, and they would have 
done some good, had they only lived. You must promise me tonight that you will pray for 
their souls."

"I don't care about their souls, mother," I said. "What about the living? What about you 
and me?"

"I pray for us everyday, and I keep hoping that he will stop what he is doing."

"Who? Who is he? I don't know what you're talking about."

My mother moved her lips close to my ear, and started to whisper.

"This is my secret. If they ever know that you have learned it, your life will be in great 
danger. Mine has been in danger all my life, or at least ever since you were born. But I have 
managed to live with it. I felt a greater threat when I was brought here, and learned that it was
church grounds. You see, my darling, you are the illegitimate daughter of Father Anthony, the 
Monsignor of this monastery."





CHAPTER FOUR


I am thinking about what my mother said over and over again. I look back at the words, and 
they still shock me.

I am the daughter of a man who was once a father, and now the leader of all the fathers at
this monastery.

When my mother first told me that, I gasped. She continued to whisper in my ear.

"I am sure that you do not believe me. Or maybe you do. In any case, I hope that you do 
not hate me now because of what I have told you. You are the only thing in the world that I 
have ever loved since my parents forced me into the convent."

"Mother, I want to know everything," I said.

My mother then told me something that she had always avoided talking about. She told 
me about my father, and about my conception.

It had all started about eighteen years ago, when my mother was a girl of fifteen.

Her parents were very poor, and as she told me, there were days when she would have to 
go without any food. She didn't mind it because her parents showed her a great deal of love. 
My mother compared it to the love she had always showered on me, so I could understand it 
very much.

That love had changed to hatred after her parents forced her to enter the convent.

It all happened one afternoon when her mother took her to church so she could make her 
confession. As she was getting ready to enter the booth, her mother was crying and hugging 
her tightly. My mother could not understand why. She was only going to enter the 
confessional booth for a few minutes.

She closed the curtain, made her confession, then stepped outside.

She looked all over, but her mother was nowhere to be seen. My mother told me how 
scared she was when she couldn't find her mother anywhere. She started to cry, just as a 
young nun approached her.

"Come with me," the nun said to my mother.

"I am lost. Or I have lost my mother. She was standing here a minute ago."

"Please, come with me and the Mother Superior will explain everything."

Since my mother was a girl of fifteen, she decided to try and act as mature as she could. 
She dried her eyes and followed the sister to an office. She was led inside and the door was 
closed behind her.

"Roberta," the Mother Superior said to my mother. "You are a lovely child, just like your 
mother told us you were."

"Where is my mother?"

"She is gone. And you are to stay here with us, my child."

"What? But she didn't tell me anything about it. I'm sure you're wrong."

The Mother Superior was a woman with a kind looking face, and a heart of ice. At least 
that is the way my mother described her. She stood up and walked over to where my mother 
was sitting, then started to stroke her hair.

"My child, your mother knows that she and your father cannot afford to feed you. Your 
father has very little money. Your mother came to see me a few weeks ago. She thought that 
you would make a fine nun, and she knew that the church could support you. We arranged for
you to come today."

"But she was supposed to be waiting for me outside of the confessional."

"Your mother is not a strong woman, my child. She knew that she could not part with you 
in words, so she left while you were in the booth. You will learn to forgive her."

My mother told me that she had forgiven her parents, years later.

That was when she discovered that their house had been set on fire and they had burned 
to death. My mother suspected that Father Anthony, my father, was behind it all.

But at the time when she was in the Mother Superior's office, my mother didn't think that 
she would ever be able to forgive her parents.

The Mother Superior kept fondling her hair as my mother cried, and finally the woman 
commanded her to get up and undress.

"We must give you a proper dress to wear, and we must also check to make sure that you 
are pure of body."

"What? But I am a virgin, Mother Superior. You must believe me."

"My child, I would like to believe you, but I have heard many girls claim to be virgins, who 
are not. I must examine you."

My mother was a shy girl, as she told me, and at first, she was very reluctant to strip in 
front of the Mother Superior. The woman did not give her a choice, however. When my 
mother stood up and trembled, the Mother Superior reached out and ripped my mother's 
dress off. My mother was wearing a pair of panties, too, and the head nun pulled those right 
off, too.

"Now lay down on the table and spread your legs," she was commanded to do.

My mother did as she was told, and she watched the head nun approach her. She moved 
her fingers to my mother's pink nipple and started to pluck it gently. My mother said that her 
nipple got stiff immediately.

Because she responded, the head nun assumed that my mother had let someone do 
something like this to her before. No matter how much my mother protested, claiming over 
and over again that she was pure, the head nun would not believe her.

My mother begged me to believe that she was pure when she told me the story in the cell 
where she's kept prisoner, and I did. I told her how my nipple had stiffened when the three 
men entered our house, and how I had been pure at the time.

The Mother Superior continued to pluck at my mother's nipples, moving her hand from 
one to the other, until both her nipples were standing up in their full stiffness. She started to 
wiggle them back and forth, and she then slid her hand down between my mother's legs and 
ran her fingers over my mother's blonde pussy patch.

"What are you going to do?" my mother asked, her voice trembling.

"I am going to check you for signs of use," the woman said.

She started to stroke my mother's pussy lips lightly, and my mother felt herself getting wet
for the first time in her life. The head nun continued to stroke her cunt lips until they were 
very, very wet.

Then she slid her fingers between them.

She seemed to be checking for my mother's hymen, something that my mother told me 
she had lost a long time ago. She had been horseback riding one day on the old mare that her
father owned, bouncing up and down on his back. At one point, she said, she noticed some 
blood between her legs, and she had no idea of what was happening.

She hopped off the horse and ran home, where her mother just cleaned her up with some 
rags, but never explained what had happened to her.

It was only later in life, when she learned more about her body, that my mother realized 
that she had lost her hymen then.

She didn't realize it at age fifteen, however, when she was laying on her back in the 
Mother Superior's office, on the desk.

As the nun kept prying her fingers deeper and deeper into my mother, she kept playing 
with my mother's love button.

My mother did not know, at the time, that the woman's fingers were responsible for the 
wetness inside of her, and that the head nun seemed to know just what to do in order to turn 
on another woman. She played with my mother's clitoris for a long time, wiggling it back and 
forth and squeezing it gently.

When my mother started to come, for the first time in all her life, the head nun was 
furious. She stepped back and smashed her fist into my mother's stomach.

"You are a slut," she screamed. "You are feeling the pleasure."

"I have never felt it before," my mother protested.

"I know that you must be lying. You must be. You looked like someone who has felt that 
pleasure a hundred times over."

"But I haven't."

"We shall see," my mother was told, and the head nun walked to her office door, stuck her 
head out and called to two nuns.

They ran into the room and grabbed my mother by her arms. The started to drag her out 
of the Mother Superior's office and down the hall. They entered one door, then dragged her 
down the steps.

That was the first time my mother had ever seen the dungeon on the convent grounds.

She told me that she could see a few men and women hanging from the walls, and she 
was soon hanging there alongside them.

She was left there in the dark, and all she could hear was moaning and groaning.

As she told me, she started to talk with one of the men next to her. He told her that he 
had been brought down there to be tortured until he confessed to her.

"Are you a heretic?" my mother asked.

"No. Well, perhaps. I had a daughter who was taken to the convent to become a nun. I 
never found out what happened to her, but while she was going through her few weeks of 
training, she died. I hadn't been allowed to see her up until that time, and I was told that she 
died of pneumonia.

"However, when her body was brought to our home, she was already dressed for her 
funeral. My wife did not like the dress they had put her in. There was one that had always 
been a favorite of my daughter's, and we decided to dress her in that. When we stripped her, 
we saw the bruises all over her body. It looked like she had been whipped and burned. Her 
cunt looked like it had been used many, many times, and there were teeth marks all over her 
breasts."

"How did that happen?"

"I don't know. Or I didn't know then. I suspected that it must have happened on the 
church grounds, for as far as I knew, my daughter had been in the convent the whole time. I 
spoke with some friends about it after the funeral, and that's when I first heard rumors about 
these dungeons. Now I know that the rumor is a truth."

"It is a truth, indeed," my mother said. "But why?"

"Who knows? All I know is that once I was sure my daughter had been the victim of foul 
play, I started to speak out against the church. I would preach in the local taverns, telling them
of my Peg and the marks that were on her body."

My mother cried as she listened, for she realized that something like that could easily 
happen to her. After all, she had been left at the convent to become a nun, just like the man's 
daughter. Only the man's daughter was dead.

That's when she stopped being afraid for a while, for she realized that she could be killed 
any minute. And since there was nothing that she could do about it, she decided that she was 
not going to worry.

I realize now what strength it must have taken to try and convince yourself of something 
like that. It is still a strength that I lack.

The man continued with his story, telling my mother how he was arrested one day as a 
heretic, and he found himself in this dungeon.

"I've heard about dungeons in the monastery, too," he told her. "But I can understand why
they would bring me to the one on the convent grounds. The convent is the place that I talked
out against, so now I know that it really exists."

"Then why don't you confess?" she asked him.

"They will kill me the minute I confess. Once I confess, they will know for sure that they're 
accusations are true. I know that I will die if they keep torturing me, but I want them to have 
something on their consciences. If they have one. I think that maybe it will be harder for them 
to kill me if they are not sure."

"And more painful for you," my mother said.

"I am past the point of pain, my child. I can hardly even feel it anymore when a phallus is 
shoved up my asshole. I have had them shoved up in all sizes, and I can now take in the 
biggest one. It still pains me, but I don't think about the pain and because I don't, I hardly feel 
it."

My mother fell asleep that night, her entire body wracked with pain.

When she woke up the next morning, she was lying on a table in a different room. As she 
tried to sit up, she discovered that her hands were strapped down to the table. She was still 
naked, and feeling very vulnerable.

She heard footsteps a little while later, and as she looked up, she could see two monks 
approaching her.

One was my father, Father Anthony. He was about twenty-five at the time, and as my 
mother described him, he had sleek black hair and dark eyes. I had always assumed that I had 
gotten my dark hair from my father, and I learned that I was right.

"Where am I?" my mother asked the handsome father.

"You are somewhere else right now," he said, and she told me that she had been taken to 
the monastery grounds. "The nuns would like to make you one of the sisters, but they are not 
sure if you are pure."

"But I am. I already told them that I am."

"There was no skin to prove it, and no blood, either. Perhaps the skin is deep inside of you,
which is why they asked me to help."

"What do you mean?"

As he spoke, Father Anthony was rubbing his hand over his cock bulge. My mother could 
see it stiffening, but since she was really a virgin and had never seen a hard cock up until that 
time, she didn't really know what was happening.

The father opened his robe and let it slip to the floor, revealing his muscular naked body. 
His cock, by my mother's estimation, was about ten inches long, and thicker than any cock she
had ever taken in, including John's (may he rest in peace!).

He started to rub it over her naked body.

He rubbed his thick cock against her nipple, and when she opened her mouth to ask him 
what he was doing, she felt another cock rubbing against her cheek. The second monk, a man 
whose name she never learned, had pulled his robe off.

He had blond hair, and a smaller cock that the man who is my father.

He shoved it into her mouth and she started to suck on it. She really didn't know what 
would happen at the time.

Meanwhile, Father Anthony was running his hands over her body. He massaged her two 
large tits as he climbed up on the table between her legs. He started to rub his cock bulge 
against her pussy lips.

She could feel herself getting wet again, but she didn't think that his thick cock would ever
be able to penetrate her. She thought that he would definitely split her right open if he tried.

He worked his way into her slowly and gently. It wasn't until he had his cock all the way in 
that he moved his mouth to her ear and whispered.

"I am afraid that I'm going to have to tell the sisters that you were lying. See how I slid 
right into you. That means there was no virgin skin. That means there have been others before
me."

She wished that she could have answered him, but the blond monk was thrusting his cock 
in and out of her mouth, and she was having enough trouble catching her breath.

Then Father Anthony started to thrust his cock in and out of her, moving his ass up and 
down, quite slowly. She could feel his cock making contact with her love buttons, and for the 
first time in her life, my mother had an orgasm.

When she told me that, I started to cry.

For I thought about my first orgasm and how similar the circumstances were to hers. We 
were both forced to take a cock into our cunt for the first time.

It is something that I would never wish upon anyone, even my worst enemy.

As my mother was coming, the father kept telling her what a slut she must have been to 
have such a responsive cunt. She was very shocked at the things he was saying, and even 
more shocked at the fact that he was a monk, fucking her, and speaking such evil words at the
same time.

His cock didn't hurt her, however. He had seen to it that she was very wet before entering 
her, and so he was sliding in and out of her with ease.

As he started to come, she felt his hot cream shooting deep into her pussy. That set off 
something inside of her and she started to come even harder.

The. man fucking her face started to shoot off in her mouth, and my mother told me that 
she almost choked to death because the first load shot all the way down her throat and into 
her breathing track.

However, she coughed it out and continued to suck the rest of the man's come out of his 
cock, until he went limp in her mouth.

Father Anthony had such a large cock that he never really went limp inside of her. He did, 
of course, but the way my mother described it, his cock in its limp state was about the same 
size as an average men in his flaccid state, so he was still able to thrust in and out of her even 
after he had come.

At that rate, he kept her senses heightened for the longest time. He kept moving until she 
felt his cock starting to grow inside of her again, and he fucked her once more until he had 
come a second time.

"And that is why there is no doubt in my mind that he is your father," my mother told me, 
and she started to cry. "You see, he was the only monk who came inside of me, and he came 
inside of me twice, with thick loads."

"There were no others?" I asked.

My mother continued her story. After he had fucked her twice, he pulled out and stood up
on his knees, looking down at her. She told me that he looked so menacing.

"You cannot be a nun," he said. "But perhaps, you can learn to be a servant for the nuns. 
They need good servants."

He left with the other monk, and a little later, someone came and gave my mother 
something to drink. She fell asleep soon afterwards.

The next time she woke up, according the story she told me, she was sitting in the Mother 
Superior's office, wearing a ragged frock that just covered her vital parts. The Mother Superior
was sitting behind her desk with her hands folded.

"You will be our cook," the Mother Superior said. "You will get ample food and clothing, 
but you must live on the church grounds."

I felt that it was a terrible thing for them to have done to her, but as my mother explained, 
if it hadn't been for that, she probably would have been put to death. It was almost like 
getting a reprieve on her life.

She worked long hours in the convent kitchen because there were so many nuns to feed. 
She would usually fall asleep in her room, a small cubicle off the kitchen, as soon as she was 
finished with a day's work.

However, one night, she told me, she was not tired, and she decided to go out and take a 
walk, just to stare up at the moonlight and get some fresh air. She noticed a few of the nuns 
walking through this one door.

She had never been curious about anything that they did before, but that night, she 
decided to go see where they were going. She told me that she was curious because she 
realized that if she had become a nun, she would have been going there with them.

She waited until all of them had entered, then snuck in herself.

She somehow realized that what she was doing could have been dangerous. After all, she 
thought of the dungeon where she had been kept prisoner her first day in the convent, and of
her sexual relations with the monk.

As she approached what seemed to be a lit room, she heard a great deal of chanting and 
moaning going on. She stuck her head in and saw that all the nuns had taken off their habits 
and were dancing around the room naked.

They seemed to be dancing in some kind of a circle, my mother said, and when she looked
closer, she could see that there was a young naked boy in the middle of the circle. His cock 
was hard, and as they danced around him, they reached out and touched his cock. Some of 
them pulled on it, and others slapped it.

As the boy was turned around, she noticed that his hands were tied behind his back.

"This is Satan's child," the Mother Superior started screaming, and all the nuns started 
frenetic dance movements.

It seemed that they were trying to drive the soul of the devil out of this boy's body. I 
started to shiver when my mother told me that, and she assured me that the soul of the devil 
had probably never been in his body to begin with.

"Then why were they doing that?" I asked her.

"They wanted to use him sexually. Especially the Mother Superior. After they danced 
around him, she lay back and spread her legs."

The other nuns led the boy over and guided his cock into the woman's cunt. She was 
moaning, as if she had reached orgasmic peak, the minute he entered her. One of the nuns 
took a thick dildo and rammed it up the boy's asshole. She started to thrust it in and out of 
him, and it almost seemed as if he was stuck to it.

He moved at the same rate that the nun thrust the dildo, until the Mother Superior was 
screaming with pleasure and writhing with passion.

When, they pulled the boy out, a little later, he was spent.

They started dancing again, and that was when my mother decided to leave. She knew 
that she would be tortured if anyone were to find her watching these proceedings. She 
couldn't sleep for the next few nights, tossing and turning in bed and wondering if perhaps it 
had all been in her imagination.

She thought that she might have been hallucinating, and so a few weeks later, she decided
that she would have to go check it out again.

She wouldn't go to sleep right after work. Instead, she would go for her walk and usually 
hide in the bushes near the door leading to the secret chapel. She waited a few nights until 
she saw the nuns entering the door.

After they were all inside, she started walking down the hall and following them.

They were all naked again, dancing around the room. There was a different boy in the 
middle of the circle that time, and as my mother told me, they were doing the exact same kind
of thing to him that she had seen done the first time.

The confirmed the fact in her mind that they were only doing it for their own sexual fun.

Suddenly, she felt something pressing into her ribs, and she was pushed out in the middle 
of the room. The nuns started to circle around her...





CHAPTER FIVE


My mother trembled as they circled around her. They were all naked, and at different levels of 
sexual excitement.

I thought about the women in the cell and how they had circled around me.

My life paralleled my mother's life in so many ways, and as she told me her story, we cried 
together at different parts.

The circle of nuns broke up as the Mother Superior approached my mother.

"So, Roberta, the cook is not happy staying in her kitchen. She wants to know more. You 
might have learned too much already."

The Mother Superior had red hair and a thick pussy bush. She grabbed my mother by the 
hair and pulled her mouth right over to her cunt.

My mother was ordered to stick her tongue out and lick the woman.

She prayed the entire time as she did it, asking God to please see her through. She started 
to wiggle the Mother Superior's stiff clitoris back and forth, and the head nun was soon 
thrusting her hips against my mother's face.

My mother couldn't even pull away. For she knew what power the head nun had over all 
the others, and since she was completely surrounded by the nuns, she knew that she wouldn't 
have been able to run.

She also thought that if she could make the woman come, she might be forgiven for 
stumbling upon their secret temple where they carried on their sexual rites. After a few 
minutes, the head nun started to come good and hard, and my mother said that she could 
hardly swallow all the juices expelled from the woman's spasming pussy.

She felt them dripping all over her chin and neck, and the Mother Superior pushed her 
back on the floor and the other nuns closed in on her.

They started groping at her body, ramming fingers here and there. My mother told me 
that at one point, she must have felt at least ten different fingers trying to work their way into 
her cunt.

That's when she started to scream out.

"Stop it. You're hurting me. Can't you see that I'm pregnant?"

As soon as she said that, the Mother Superior screamed out in a booming voice.

"Leave her, girls! Leave her be!" The circle of naked nuns pulled back, giving my mother 
enough room to breathe. The Mother Superior pulled her up into a sitting position by her 
hair. She looked her right in the eye. "Now what are you telling me? What did you just say? 
Repeat it!"

"I'm pregnant," she said.

"Are you really, or are you just lying in the hopes that we will let you go free?"

"I swear to you, Mother Superior, I am telling the truth. I have not had my period for the 
last three months. I think that Father Anthony is the one who did it."

"Hush," the woman screamed, and she slapped my mother across the face.

The Mother Superior looked around the room, and my mother could tell that she really 
didn't know what to do. She called to one of the nuns and whispered in her ear. The nun put 
on her habit and then ran out of the room.

"Father Anthony will be here soon," she said. "Sister Magaret went to get him, and we will 
see what he has to say about all this."

"What can he say about his own child?" my mother asked. "It is his."

"Shut up! I don't want to hear you say that again. I don't want to hear it. Now, as long as 
you will stay here with us as we await the good father's arrival, we shall see how good you are 
at tempting the devil to leave a boy's soul."

She didn't know what the Mother Superior was talking about.

However, the towering woman reached down and pulled my mother up to her feet. Then 
she started to lead her toward the naked, bound boy.

From the way my mother described him, he couldn't have been any older than fifteen, with
light blond hair and pale skin.

His cock was limp, and the Mother Superior forced my mother on her knees in front of him
and commanded her to start sucking him.

"When you suck the seed from him, you will take the devil with you."

"Fuck you old woman," the boy said. "You just want to get off watching this poor girl suck 
me. You and all these other dried up cunts. You want to rub your own pussies, and eat each 
other, and watching me will get you excited. And you call yourself a servant of God. Bullshit! 
You're only a servant of your depraved lust."

There was a small fire burning a few feet away from where they were standing, and the 
Mother Superior reached in and took out a small branding iron. My mother said that the tip of
it was orange and burning with heat.

The head nun moved it to one of the boy's tender nipples and pressed it down. He started 
to scream out as my mother was commanded to open her mouth and suck the boy's cock 
until he was hard.

My mother sucked his cock and balls into her mouth, thinking that it might help him get 
hard faster. She also knew that she needed to do as much as possible.

After all, how was the boy to become sexually aroused with the branding iron pressed 
against and burning off his nipple.

She was surprised when his cock started to swell in her mouth, and as she looked up at 
him she could see that he had his eyes closed and seemed to be praying. Perhaps, my mother 
told me, he was trying to concentrate only on his cock and nothing else.

I think that would have been very hard.

Still, the boy managed to get hard, and when he did, my mother had to drop his balls from
her mouth because she was just able to handle his cock.

My mother had a chance to look around the room as she moved her mouth back and 
forth over the boy's swollen shaft, and she told me that what the boy had said was already 
starting to come true.

Every nun was fingering herself, unless, of course, she was fingering another nun, or going 
down on her. There were nine paired off in couples and threesomes, and I don't even know 
what it's called when there are four of them together, but there were some groups of four, my
mother said.

The Mother Superior moved the branding iron to the boy's other nipple, and my mother 
saw the blood from the one that was burned away.

She said that she almost got sick when she saw that. She started to wretch, but then she 
closed her eyes and tried not to think about what she had seen. Instead, she tried only to 
concentrate on his cock and his nice flavor.

He tasted better than the monk she had been forced to suck off at the monastery, the day 
that Father Anthony fucked her and impregnated her. So she didn't mind it at all, especially 
when the boy started to come.

She sucked all the come out of his cock, then pulled her head away.

There was a young nun down on her knees, in front of the Mother Superior. She was 
licking the woman's pussy, spreading the lips wide and digging her tongue in deep. The 
Mother Superior was moaning.

In fact, as she looked around the room, my mother saw that all the nuns seemed to be lost
in their orgasmic pleasure. None of them were paying any attention to her, and she started to 
run toward the door.

She made it to the hall, and she was sure that she was going to get away. However, just as 
she opened the door, Father Anthony was standing there.

He was at least two heads taller than she was, a tall strapping man.

"That is the one," the nun who had been sent to get him said, pointing at my mother. 
"That is the one who says you have fathered her fetus."

"What?" he asked, and he seemed to be smiling.

From what my mother told me, it was almost as if he was proud of the fact that she was 
pregnant because of him.

"She was trying to get away," the nun said.

"I'm sure that she wasn't. She was probably running out to greet me. Isn't that what you 
were doing, my dear?"

"Yes," she said, playing along with him.

He told her to turn around and they all started walking back toward the temple where the 
nuns carried out their secret rites. The Mother Superior was still being eaten when they 
arrived, and as the nun with Father Anthony stood guard over my mother, the father 
approached the head nun.

He reached out and pinched her nipple, until she opened her eyes.

"If you could pull yourself away for a few minutes, we must talk," he said, and she seemed 
to flush with color, having been discovered at such a vulnerable time.

She pushed the pussy-eating nun to the floor and scolded her for having forced herself on
her. It was all bullshit, my mother said. The Mother Superior had been loving it, but she just 
acted that way so Father Anthony wouldn't know.

The Mother Superior dressed, and then she and the father and my mother all walked 
outside. They started walking toward her office.

She poured some wine for my father and mother as they sat down in front of her desk, 
and she had a glass herself.

"Now, Father Anthony," she said. "I don't know what we are to do with this one here. She 
claims that she is pregnant with your child."

"It is quite possible," he said. "I remember that I filled her with a lot of seed. But it was all 
on your bidding, as I remember right, Mother Superior. You wanted to know if she was pure or
not."

"And was she?"

"No," he said. "At least she had no hymen. That proves nothing."

"But she could have been violated by another man before she came here."

"How long gone are you, child?" he asked my mother.

"Only a few months," she said. "It had to have happened since I've been here. I mean, I 
have never been with another man, but even if you didn't believe that, you will see when the 
child is born that he will be born at least nine months after I'd been here. Then you will know."

"If you live that long," the Mother Superior said. "Father Anthony, I think that we should 
kill this young woman."

My mother screamed out in horror. She did not want to die at such a young age, nor with 
a child. She wanted to have her baby.

"Wait,"-Father Anthony said, "I think that we should let her have the baby."

"And where will she live? There is no room for her to live with a child in the convent, and 
certainly you cannot afford to have her at the monastery."

"That is true. She can live in town though."

"Are you insane, father? This girl can never leave the church grounds. She has seen too 
much already in her time here. She will certainly not be able to keep her mouth shut. She will 
tell of what she saw."

"I swear to you that I won't," my mother said.

"Of course you will swear to that now, until you leave the church gates and are free. Then 
you will tell everything you know."

The Mother Superior had stood up, and she walked behind my mother. She moved her 
hands to my mother's neck and started to massage her. However, she was tightening her grip 
around my mother's neck, faster and faster. My mother started to choke after a minute, then 
the father stood up and pushed the woman away.

"There is no need to kill her, I tell you. I have a potion that I brought with me. If she drinks 
it, she will forget everything that she has seen here. Watch."

He pulled a small vial out of his pocket and forced my mother to drink from it. She was 
sure that he was fooling her and that he was giving her some kind of a poison, but there was 
no way she could stop him from forcing it down her throat.

She fainted soon after she had consumed the liquid.

She woke up again and found herself lying on her cot, in the small room by the convent 
kitchen. Her door was closed, and Father Anthony was standing in the room by her bed. He 
knelt down when she opened her eyes.

"I know that you do remember everything, but the Mother Superior must believe that you 
have lost your memory. I want my child to live. My son!"

He was rubbing his cock through his robe, and he started to pull his robe up slowly, 
revealing his thick, throbbing organ.

"I want you to taste this once before you leave," he said. "I want you to always remember 
what it was like, for this is the cock that fathered your child."

My mother told me that he seemed so nice then. She sat up and started to lick his cock. 
He stroked her hair softly as she ran her tongue all over his organ. She wasn't quite sure how 
she was going to be able to take him in her mouth.

He started to massage her breasts through her blouse, and as she felt herself getting 
turned on, she got more daring with his dick. She opened her mouth and started to move it 
down his shaft, closer and closer to his thick black pubic patch.

She reached for his large balls and cupped them in her hand, then squeezed them gently. 
The father was moaning softly.

"You are very pretty, Roberta, and I am sure that our son will be a handsome lad because 
of it. But you must never tell anyone about it."

My mother shook her head, promising him that she would keep it a secret.

He began to thrust his cock into her mouth, deeper than she wanted to take him, but she 
didn't fight with him. She let him do it.

When his cock started to pulsate in her mouth, he jerked his shaft hard with his hand, then
shot thick loads of come onto her tongue.

She swallowed it all, and then pulled her head away.

"I thank you for giving me my freedom," she said to him. "But what am I to do? Where am 
I to live? I cannot go back to my parents."

"No, you cannot. For they are dead. They were burned in a fire."

"Oh God," she said, and she started crying. "Then what am I to do? I have no money that I 
can live on."

"I will send you some money," he said to her. "I will send you enough money to live on so 
that you can support my son."

My mother was quite pleased with the arrangements. He gave her enough money to go 
buy a small house in town, and then he would send her money every month. He came to see 
her when I was born, and that's when my mother sensed that she might have a great deal of 
trouble with him.

He seemed outraged at the fact that she had had a daughter.

"I cannot continue to support a girl all my life," he told her, when the two of them were left
alone so that no one else would hear.

"You were willing to support your son. I don't see why you won't support a girl."

"I did not want a daughter. I wanted a son.

He stormed out of the house, leaving my mother alone. She had some money to live on 
for the next few months, but he stopped sending her the monthly sum of money for the first 
few years of my life.

That was a time that I didn't remember. I was an infant then.

My mother told me how she had started to make clothing then for friends, and they would
buy her the fabric and give her a little extra money. It wasn't enough, she told me, but it put 
food in her mouth.

"I wanted more for you, though," she said to me. "I remembered what it had been like for 
me when my parents were trying to raise me and they couldn't afford to feed me. I didn't want
you to go through days like I had, where there would be no food and I would be crying 
because my belly was screaming for nourishment."

"So what did you do?" I asked her.

"Blackmail. It was the only thing that I could think of, Roxanne, and that is why I feel so 
guilty for what has happened to you and me."

She started to explain more.

When I was four, she went to the convent to make a confession. She took me with her, and
after she made the confession, she asked the father if she could talk with Father Anthony 
about something.

They went to a small room where they could talk alone. My mother held me on her lap, 
stroking my soft black hair.

"She even has hair like yours, Anthony," she said to the father.

"What is it that you want?"

"I want your support, and nothing more. Look, you should have killed me back then, rather
than letting me live, especially if you even thought something like this would happen in years 
to come."

"Something like what?"

"You cannot tell me that you never thought the child might be a girl, can you?"

"The child was supposed to be a boy," he said to her.

"You're a fool. Anyone would know that there was half a chance it could be a girl, too. And 
so, I had a girl. And you must keep supporting us."

"I will not," he told her.

"Then I will tell everyone that you are the father of this child, and when they ask me for 
details, I will tell them all about the way it came to be. People will learn of the evil that goes on
behind the church doors."

"You will risk your own life," he said. "I will deny everything, and you will be taken prisoner,
as a heretic."

"I met a man once who was taken as a heretic. He was hanging on the wall next to me 
when I was first kept prisoner at the convent. I don't think it seems like such a bad way to die, 
Anthony. I will die with a smile on my face, as long as I know that your career has been ruined.
That will be enough to get me through all the abuse. Because you can believe that your career
will be ruined."

"You cannot do this," he said to her. "You cannot. I am in line to succeed the Monsignor 
when he dies. That will ruin everything."

"You can stop me from telling them all. Just send me the monthly money, like you did 
during my pregnancy. I will keep quiet forever."

There was nothing that the man could do but agree to pay my mother every month.

I began to understand why my mother had never liked talking about my father, or his 
family, who she claimed sent the money. She didn't want to talk about it, I'm sure, because she
was afraid she might slip up and say something about my real father.

As I learned the truth of her blackmailing scheme, I shuddered.

"It was all for you, my darling," she said to me. "You and I both would have starved to 
death had he not sent that money."

"But why did he do this thing to us now?" I asked her.

"You will hate me when I tell you why, Roxanne," she said.

She started to cry then, and the mute boy stuck his head into the small cell. He started to 
make some sounds, as if he wanted us to hurry.

"All right," I said. "Just give me another minute. Please. Now mother, you must tell me why 
my father is keeping us both prisoner."

"Well, I didn't see him again for many years after he started to send the money. You know 
how well we were living, don't you?"

"Yes. You always gave me everything I needed."

"I worked on the side, too, when you wanted a new dress, or something special for your 
birthday. And then, the price of food started to grow. Eleven years later, he was still sending 
me the same amount of money he had been sending me all along. That money was buying 
less and less."

"And so, what did you do?"

"A few months before those men broke into our house and brought us here, I heard that 
the Monsignor had finally died. As far as I had known, he had been old and feeble the last few
years anyway, and Father Anthony had been running things. But now that Father Anthony had
taken over the position, I knew he would be making more money."

"So you went to see him?"

"Yes, I did. He had changed a great deal. Once, at the beginning, he had been something 
of a nice man, but now, he was cold and bitter."

My mother's voice trembled as she told me the things he said to her.

He told her that she could no longer threaten him, and that she had nerve coming to ask 
him for more money, especially when he had been thinking about stopping his payments on 
the money he was already sending.

"I swear that I will tell them everything," she said to him.

"But I am the Monsignor now," he told her. "Before, you could have taken that away from 
me, but now, I have the power and the title."

"And what does that mean?" she asked.

"It means that you will learn to fear me as the others do. Get out of here now, and 
remember that I will get to you if you ever tell anyone."

And that was the last time she had ever seen him. I asked her if she had told anyone, and 
she said no. For the money came the next month, and even though he was still sending what 
he had always sent, she decided not to bother him again.

"But I think that he still thought of me as a threat," my mother said. "For he hired the three
men to come and abduct us. As long as we're prisoners on the monastery grounds, we are no 
longer threats to him."

"Then why doesn't he just kill us?"

"There has always been a warm spot in the man's heart. I doubt he ever killed anyone, 
although he has tortured many people. I think we will stay here until we die, either from the 
abuse, or of natural causes."

When she told me that, I burst into tears. I am only seventeen, and I cannot even imagine 
what it would be like to spend the rest of my days without ever seeing the sun. I cry now as I 
write these words, wondering what I will do."





CHAPTER SIX


It's been almost three months since I've learned the secret of my birth, and who my father is, 
and although I thought that I could make it work for me, I realized soon enough that I could 
not.

First of all, I remembered my mother's warning to me about never letting anyone else 
know what I knew, because it would mean a threat on my life.

I did tell the blond mute boy who brought me to my mother, however. In fact, I told him 
the night that my mother told me everything.

He seemed to be so upset when he heard it, and he started to shudder. I had to calm him 
down the only way I knew how.

I pulled his cock out of the small loin cloth that he wore and stroked it until he was fully 
hard. Then I sunk to my knees and started to rub him all over my cheeks as I spoke in a 
soothing voice.

"It's all right, boy. You will never tell anyone because you cannot talk. But I just want you to
know that you're not dealing with any ordinary young girl. You're dealing with the daughter of
the Monsignor."

I flicked my tongue back and forth over his cock head, and I started to take him deep in 
my mouth. I could taste a sweet flavor on his cock, and it was even sweeter when he started to
come in my mouth.

The boy understood the value of the secret I had told him, and as far as I know, he has not
revealed it to anyone yet. But ever since I found out who my father is, I have been trying to 
learn things about him.

You see, I know that one day I will meet him, and when I do, I want to be able to deal with 
him. In order to do that, I have to try and figure out the way his mind works, and the kind of 
man that he is.

I have learned a few things about him, and all of them scare me.

Three weeks after my mother told me the secret, I was taken from my cell and led to a 
small room. There was one man chained to a wall, and the monk who commanded me told 
me that this man was a heretic.

"I will be waiting outside," he said. "I want to hear him scream out his confession, and you 
will make him confess of be punished."

The man looked like someone who had lived in my town, a face that I had seen around. 
However, it had been so long since I had been in the town (and sometimes, I can hardly even 
remember what the place looks like) that I wasn't sure.

"You have been accused of heresy," I said. "How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," he said to me, and I could see how he was licking his lips.

I was naked, of course. I haven't worn anything ever since I was taken prisoner. If I 
complain that I am too cold, they throw me a ragged blanket. Otherwise, they really don't 
seem to care about the way I feel.

I moved my hand to his cock and started to stroke it. As I touched his groin area, I heard 
him shudder. For a second, I thought that he was feeling sexual pleasure, but then I realized 
that he was moaning in pain. I looked closer.

There was no pubic hair around his cock. Well, there was a little, but I could tell that the 
hair had been burned off. The torch that did it must have also touched his skin, because there 
were many patches of burned skin, too.

I tried not to touch him in that area when I saw how it pained him.

"Who did this to you?" I whispered.

"I will tell you nothing. You work for them, and all you want to do is get me to confess. You
are scum, like they are."

"Please, I am a prisoner here, too, you must believe me. Do you think I would walk around 
these chilled halls with nothing on if I had the power to get something. No! You can believe 
that I am here against my will, just as you are."

"Then why do you do the things you do?" he asked me.

"Because they will beat me and torture me if I don't. I have been here for over a year now, 
and I have withstood more abuse that you will ever come across in your lifetime. Now, I want 
to know who burned you here."

"One of the monks," the man said.

His cock started to swell in my hand when I only stroked the tip and the shaft, and I played
with his balls too, for extra added pleasure.

"Tell me of him," I said. "I don't know the men but I want to learn about as many of them 
as possible."

If I didn't fear what I knew, I would have told the man everything. That way, I would have 
just been able to ask him about the Monsignor. However, for my own safety, I had to question
him slowly and lead toward what I wanted.

"He had thick black hair," the man said. "He was a towering, huge man. I cannot remember
ever seeing a man like that, or a cock like his."

"What?" I asked. I remembered how my mother had told me what a big cock Father 
Anthony had, and I was almost sure that it was him.

"Yes, it was big," the man said. "You see, he had this one girl get down on her knees and 
try to suck me off so that I would confess to heresy. As she was on her knees, he lifted her up 
a little. He pulled his hard cock out of his robe and rammed it into her cunt from behind. I can 
understand why she almost bit my cock off. His cock looked so thick that it must have been 
killing her."

"And he had black hair? What was his name?"

"I think he was called Anthony," the man said to me.

Now I knew that it was the Monsignor, my father, and I knew that I had to learn all about 
what he did. After all, I was sure that I would be able to tell many things about him from the 
kind of tortures he would inflict.

The man started to tell me how he would not confess, even when his cock was pulsating 
and he thought that he was going to come. That was when he was the most vulnerable, but 
he realized that he would be treated even worse after his confession.

However, he told me that my father started to scratch at his nipples, until they were 
bleeding. He had long fingernails, and he was able to scratch right through the skin, until he 
was bleeding.

The pain sounded intense to me, but the man was able to withstand it.

"Finally, after the girl had let me come, and I must tell you that I had been hard for about 
an hour or two or three, the wicked father reached for a burning torch. He moved it closer and
closer to my cock. I was sure that he was going to burn my dick right off, and I closed my eyes
and screamed. I felt the heat in my groin, and then my pubic hair burst into flame. He watched
it burn off, burning away some of the skin at the same time. The flame died before it could 
burn my cock."

"And what was the father doing while he did that?"

"I could hear him moaning, and I knew that he was still fucking the girl. I opened my eyes 
when the fire died down, and saw him staring at me. He had this huge smile on his face. He 
was smiling because of the way I was crying in pain."

"That bastard," I said. "I hate him."

"I said the same thing. To his face. He smashed me across the side of my head with the 
burning torch. Luckily, the torch only touched me for a brief instant. But I still felt the terrible 
heat, and the power behind his blow."

I felt something about this man who was giving me all this information, and I decided that 
I wasn't going to even try and get him to confess. I hadn't been beaten in many days, and I 
knew that I was stronger than he was.

"And are you a heretic?" I asked him, as I started to sink to my knees.

"I'll never tell," he said.

"You really don't have to. You see, I really don't care at all."

I held his cock gently along the underside and started to flick my tongue back and forth 
over his cock slit. I could taste a drop of his come, and as soon as I did, I placed my lips 
around his cock head and started to suck on it.

The man moaned, and he thrust his hips forward a little bit. I opened my mouth wide 
enough to take him down my throat, and I could move my hands up to his nipples and stroke 
them lightly. There were still scabs there from where my father has scratched the helpless 
man, so I made sure not to touch them.

I could feel his cock pulsating in my mouth soon after I had sucked his cock head between
my lips, and he started to shoot his seed onto my tongue.

I swallowed all his come, licking my lips when I was finished.

Then I stood up and called to the monk who was waiting outside. He walked into the 
room, and saw the man's limp cock. I think he knew that I hadn't even tried, but even if he 
didn't, he could tell that I had just brought the man off to orgasm.

"And his confession?" he asked, looking at me.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I tried my best, but I could not get him to confess. I tried all the 
methods I have learned during my time here, but this man has a strong mind and a strong 
will. He would not break."

The monk reached into his robe and pulled out a thick whip. He lashed it out at me, and 
the first time it hit my breast.

I felt the stabbing pain, but all in all, it wasn't half as powerful as some of the whippings I 
had been through while I was there. It stung because I hadn't felt it in a few days, and because
he would not stop.

I fell to my knees and begged him to stop whipping me, but he threw his head back and 
started to laugh.

"You knew what the consequences would be if you didn't get the confession. You've 
always known what it would be."

The man hanging on the wall kept his eyes on me as the monk whipped me, and I could 
see a single tear rolling down his cheek. He opened his mouth to say something, but I put my 
finger over my lips.

I didn't want him to confess on my account. I wanted him to know how grateful I was for 
everything that he had told me, and also wanted him to know that I could withstand the 
whipping more than he could.

He didn't confess, however. All he did was tell me how sorry he was, and I told him that it 
really didn't matter, and that he had no reason to feel guilty.

The monk finished whipping me, then pulled me up to my feet.

He dragged me back to my cell and locked the door.

"One day you will be whipped to death," I said to him.

"Who will do it? You? Or Father Anthony?"

He looked at me with an evil eye, then ran out of the room. A few hours later, the blond 
mute boy came to bring me my dinner. I could hardly eat.

During the next few weeks, whenever I was left alone with a prisoner, I would try and 
question him, or her, and see if Father Anthony was the man who had tortured them. In many 
cases, he was, and I heard some vile things about him.

There was one woman who told me that she had been accused of being possessed by the 
devil. Upon further question, she said that her husband was the one who had sent her to be 
exorcised, and she knew that he was cheating with another woman.

"He just wanted to get me out of the house," she said. "He even paid them. They'll kill me 
here, and he knows it."

I asked her to tell me what they had done during her exorcism rite.

She started to tell me about three monks, one of whom turned out to be Father Anthony. 
He was the one who led the others and told them what to do to this poor woman.

She was stripped and chained down to a table. First, they poured some boiling water up 
her pussy, in the hopes that the water would drive the devil out of her soul. She told me how 
she had felt her insides burning, and when she started to curse at them, the black haired 
monk (my father) commanded one of the men to shut her up.

He shut her up by pulling his robe off and stuffing his cock into her mouth until she 
thought that she was going to gag.

He started to ram his cock in and out of her mouth while the other two monks pulled at 
her nipples and put these tight clamps on them. The clamps, she told me, cut into her nipples, 
and I could still see the marks they had left there.

"And what next?" I asked her.

"The leader insisted that the devil's soul could be trapped inside of me. They lifted me off 
the table, unchaining my wrists. The man who had been fucking me with his cock in my mouth
pulled out for a minute.

"The taller monk, with the larger cock, moved behind and started to ram it into my 
asshole. I had never taken anything up my asshole before, except an enema when I was sick 
once. I couldn't believe it when his thick cock fit in my ass. Of course, it didn't fit until he 
forced it, at my painful expense.

"He fell back on the table, pulling me with him. Then, the one who had his cock in my 
mouth rammed it right back in, and the other one pulled up his robe and rammed his cock 
into my pussy. All my openings were filled with cocks."

She told me how they all started to thrust at the same rate, established by the man fucking
her ass, my father.

"He would start to increase his thrusting rate, and then I would feel the other two men 
starting to do the same thing. Usually, an increase in speed would hurt me a lot more, and the
man underneath me sensed that. That was one reason why he seemed to be fucking me as 
fast as possible. In fact, the only time that he ever slowed down was when he had to take a 
moment to catch his breath."

As soon as he would catch his breath, he would start right up again, until the man in her 
mouth started to pulsate hard.

Father Anthony was screaming at that man, telling him to try and hold back for as long as 
he possibly could. But as the woman told me, the man started to come in her mouth rather 
soon, and she sucked his cock dry.

Father Anthony and the other man were still fucking her asshole and cunt, and the man in 
her cunt started to come soon after the one in her mouth. That left the thick cocked father to 
finish her off, and he started to grunt and groan, then shoot his seed into her asshole.

It was what the woman told me next that makes me fear my father. It shows me what kind 
of irrational temper he has.

After he came in her asshole, he pulled out, pushing her onto the floor. He picked up a 
whip that was lying on the table, then turned toward the two spent monks.

"You fools," he said. "You can't even control the flow of your own semen. You will have to 
learn how to do it."

And then, he started to whip them, only because they had come before he had. The way 
the woman described it, the two monks were writhing on the floor like grounded fish, trying 
to get away from the wrath of his whip.

However, he didn't seem to care about their protests. He kept hitting them harder and 
harder until they were both bleeding.

Then, he pulled her to her knees and stuffed his cock into her mouth, forcing her to suck 
on it until he was hard again, and after he was hard, until he started to throb and come in her 
mouth.

I had been brought into the room to try and torture the woman some more, but as far as I 
was concerned, she had told me so much, and she had been tortured beyond belief, that I 
didn't even do anything.

I just called the guard and told him that Satan's soul had left the woman.

I gave him no further explanation and was led back to my cell.

I have heard stories, now, of my father's irrational behavior. It seems to me that he has let 
his power control his mind.

I thought about what my mother had said of her last visit with him, before the two of us 
were abducted. She told me that he had changed a great deal. That he was a very heartless 
man since he had become Monsignor.

I wonder why. Perhaps he realizes, now, that his soul will rot in hell for everything that he is
doing. Once, he might have justified all the evil he carried out by telling himself that he was 
being commanded by the Monsignor.

But now, he is the Monsignor, and he is the one making the commands. He is the one 
telling the monks what to do, and what tortures to carry out. I am also quite sure, from 
hearing about his large throbbing cock, that my father receives sexual pleasure from watching
all these things happen.

He has to. I don't see how a man can keep his cock hard unless he is getting some kind of 
a pleasure stimulus.

As I sit here thinking about his cock, though, I have evil thoughts. I have heard so much 
about his size and shape, and I wonder if I would be able to take him in right now. I can feel 
my pussy spasming as I think about it.

I have taken in cocks all sizes and shapes, and I find that I like the thicker ones.

I know enough about what my father looks like, and I can imagine what it would be like to 
feel his hard cock sliding in and out of my pussy.

I know that he would make good contact with my clit.

My clit swells now as I sit her writing and thinking about it. One hand is working my pencil,
while the other hand is down between my legs, rubbing my wet pussy lips. I can feel my 
pleasures rising.

I have never masturbated before, now that I think about it. I was initiated into a sexual life 
by force, and so, I never had the chance to discover the way my body works on my own. 
However, now I am.

I fill my nipples rising in stiffness, even though I am not even touching them. I think that 
they are getting stiff because of the raised passion in my body. My cunt is starting to spasm 
lightly now.

I close my eyes and I can see an image of what my father must be.

His cock is my fingers, or at least I am thinking like that. I have inserted a second and a 
third finger in my cunt, and my pink pussy walls are starting to spasm around my fingers, 
harder and harder.

I am getting very wet inside, and I like the way my fingers can slide in and of me now. I am 
very curious to taste myself, and I think that I will.

Now I am sucking on my wet fingers. Oh, I know that I didn't bring myself to a full orgasm 
yet, but that doesn't make a difference. I like the taste of the cream on my fingers, and I have 
a lot of time now.

I've already been fed for the night, and I don't think that anyone will be walking into this 
room tonight. I am usually safe at night to do anything I want.

Of course, there is not much to do in a small cell.

Up until a few months ago, I didn't even have this journal to keep me busy. Ever since I got
the paper and pencils, I have been writing down as much as I can. I have been hiding it all 
under the straw mattress that I sleep on here.

Why didn't I discover masturbation before now?

I have licked all the cream off my fingers, and I can feel my nipples throbbing with a nice 
hard life. I am rubbing one now, quite gently, while I lick my lips at the same time. I wish that I 
had another hand.

I would like to write down my feelings, pinch my nipples and work my pussy at the same 
time. However, I cannot do all three.

So my pussy will have to wait until my nipples have been serviced.

Oh, they are so, so stiff. They feel very nice, though. The skin is smooth, and the harder I 
pinch them, the greater the sensation that runs through my body. I've just tried something 
else, too.

I've just spit on my finger and then rubbed the saliva all over my stiff brown nipple. It feels 
almost as if there is a warm wet mouth circling my nipple. When the saliva dried, I spit on my 
finger again.

If there is a wet mark on the page, it is because I got some saliva there, too.

Now I am moving my hand back down to my pussy. I am massaging my cunt lips slowly. 
This time, I am trying something that I never had the chance to do before. I am waiting until 
my pussy gets so wet that the juices are dripping down my leg, and it isn't until then that I am 
going to insert my fingers and start to play with my clit again. I know that I will have a 
sensational orgasm when it happens.

My body tingles more and more by the second, and I can even see that my writing is 
getting harder and harder to read.

Now I feel the juices on my thigh. I am rubbing them into my skin and I know that it is 
time for me to slide my fingers in.

I am sliding in four of them now, moving them back and forth slowly. They are stretching 
my pussy lips, and my pliant walls, and rubbing over my clit at the same time. I am moving my
fingers faster.

Faster and faster!

I can feel my breasts heaving up and down. Oh, I wish that there was someone else here to
help me. Someone to touch me and stroke my body gently and lovingly, the way I am 
touching myself.

For the first time in my sexual life, I am thinking of sex as something that can be soft and 
tender, and without any brutality involved.

I love it! I really do!

I was beginning to think that there was something wrong with sex and abuse, but also, I 
had been thinking that they went together.

But now, as I feel my pussy juices rolling down over my fingers and dripping on my thighs, 
I know that it doesn't have to be like that. I know that it can be nice and soft and tender and... 
Wait. Oh God, it cannot be! It cannot!

I am lost in the middle of my orgasm, and I can hear footsteps approaching. They sound 
loud. They're echoing through the hall, coming closer. I have to get myself together and hide 
this journal before anyone sees it. I must!





CHAPTER SEVEN


My head is still spinning as I sit here writing. It is no longer because of the orgasm that I was 
under the influence of when I put down my pencil last. No! That orgasm has long since faded, 
and two or three others have come.

The spinning stems from my confusion. So many things have happened, and I will start at 
the beginning so that I leave nothing out.

When I heard the footsteps approaching, I knew that the one thing I had to be most 
concerned about was this document that you are scanning right at this very moment. I have 
written so many things that could easily be taken as heresy.

Now I know that I am not a heretic, although I have been questioning God recently, 
wondering why all these evil things are occurring on church grounds.

Of course, I have gotten no answers, but only more tortures.

Still, my mother raised me as a God worshipping child, and all this time my feelings have 
been as follows: If these things are going on, then there must be a reason for it. There has to 
be. God, it is said, works in mysterious ways, and I imagine that this is just another one of 
those ways.

So when I heard the footsteps, the first thing that I did was pull my mattress up and hide 
the manuscript underneath. The only one who knows of my hiding place is the young mute 
boy, and he has promised me that if anything happens to me, he will take the journal and 
bury it somewhere so that all may read it in years to come. We both seem to realize that right 
now, with the church as powerful as it is, there is no sense in trying to get people to believe 
that these things really occur.

The church will deny everything, I know it.

Anyway, once the journal was hidden, I lay back on the bed. The panting from my orgasm 
still had a power on me as I saw a figure approaching.

It was the figure of a tall, powerful looking man, dressed in the ordinary robe that all the 
monks here seem to wear. However, there was some kind of mystical aura around this man, 
and as he approached, I knew why.

He had curly black hair and seemed to be so tall.

There was no doubt in my mind who the man was. He was Father Anthony, although he 
did not tell me who he was right away. Instead, he peered through the bars, watching my tits 
heave up and down as I tried to catch my breath.

"Were you playing with yourself?" he asked me.

"What? What are you talking about? Who are you?"

"You are breathing as if you just came out of orgasm. Let me look closer." He walked 
around so that he was standing by the bars, right near my bed. His eyes gazed at my thighs, 
dripping with come. "Aha, I see that I was right."

The man moved his fingers to my leg, reaching between the bars, and he started to stroke 
my soft flesh. I could feel my pussy starting to tingle again.

"You are much softer than your mother ever was," he said.

"Take that back, for my mother is a very soft, beautiful woman."

He started to laugh as he let his fingers wander up my thigh. He stopped, about an inch 
away from my pussy, and my pussy lips pursed in anticipation. He started to laugh again then, 
and I have to admit that there was something very sweet and charming about his laugh. For 
one thing, it did relax me.

"You should not put down a compliment when it is given," he said to me.

Then, he let his fingers stroke my pussy lips, and I could feel my cunt starting to spasm 
harder. He was touching me lightly, the same way I had been stroking myself when he had 
interrupted. It was the first and only time I could remember being touched so gently by 
anyone else, other than myself.

That confused me, you must understand. I had heard so much about Father Anthony and 
the evil behind the man, and I had anticipated our first meeting as being something 
completely different. I had almost envisioned a great deal of fighting and yelling as I tried to 
make him explain everything that happened.

The reason I didn't start yelling, I imagine, was because he was acting so calm.

I could feel my cunt starting to spasm hard. He was wiggling my clit back and forth with 
two of his fingers, and he was licking his lips, too.

"You seem to love pussy," I said to him. "I can't understand why you would have become a 
monk if you loved a woman's pussy."

"There is an ample supply around here, thank you," he said.

"I know. But don't you question your faith to God? You should be His servant, devoting 
yourself to Him only. Instead, you are devoting yourself to sex and sexual abuse, a common 
sin to all men, including monks."

He licked his lips, then pulled his fingers out of my pussy. He started to walk toward the 
door to the cell, and immediately, I pulled my blanket over me. I thought that I might have 
said too much and he was going to whip me or something like that. However, he closed the 
door slowly and started walking toward me, that same smile on his face.

I knew why as I saw where he had let his hand wander.

His hand was down by his groin, and he was stroking his erection.

I could see how far his cock was sticking out, for it must have been sticking straight out 
under his robe, and it amazed me. I had heard, from my mother, that Father Anthony had one 
of the largest cocks she had ever come across.

I knew that she was telling me the truth. The length of it was menacing.

"Perhaps that might be true for a man who wanted to become a monk in the first place," 
he said to me. "That kind of a man might be willing to devote his entire life to God, but I am 
not like that."

He sat down on the bed next to me, still stroking his cock bulge.

"You are more beautiful than all the others have told me."

"Why did you wait so long to come and see for yourself? You should have come to look at 
me a year ago, or two years ago, when I was still beautiful."

"Believe me, my child, you are still quite beautiful."

It was so strange listening to him calling me 'my child.' It was said with a different kind of 
tone that you would expect a normal monk to use. It was as if he was really calling me his 
child, and I knew that I was.

However, I did not know if he knew of all the things that I knew, hence my reason for not 
saying anything to him right away. I remembered my mother's warning, and even though 
Father Anthony was not as cruel as I had imagined him to be, I kept telling myself that 
perhaps, if he knew that I knew his secret, he might turn out to be cruel.

For that reason, and that reason along, I had to wait.

"How long have you been here now?" he asked me.

"Almost two and a half years," I said. "Can you help me escape?"

He started to laugh then, and suddenly, he leaned forward and moved his lips to mine. He 
kissed me hard, pressing his tongue into my mouth.

I responded, as you can well understand, because of the sexual high that I was already lost
in. I started to stroke his cheek, and then I felt him moving his body weight until his body was 
on top of mine.

He was still wearing his robe while he kissed me, but I could feel his hard cock rubbing 
against my pussy lips.

I don't know why I did what I did. I know that incest is one of the worst sins in the Bible, 
and I've seen the punishment for it. I will never forget what it was like listening to David 
scream after he confessed making love to his sister, and then looking down at his crotch 
where his cock and balls had once been, and seeing only his cock but no balls. Only a rushing 
of blood as it drained from his body.

However, Father Anthony was turning me on, and since he had not even told me who he 
was, I just thought that I could do it.

Forgive me God, if I have offended you!

But that pleasure was too great, Lord. Why did You put such pleasures into the world and 
then make it a sin to enjoy them.

As Father Anthony was thrusting up and down, I started to pull his robe up over his hips. I 
could feel the hair on his legs as they rubbed against mine, and he lifted his groin up so I 
could bare his cock.

I looked between our bodies, and saw the way his stiff, thick cock was pointing straight 
down at my pussy lips. He took his shaft in his hand and started to rub it against my cunt lips, 
ever so gently.

"I have never seen an organ quite as big as yours," I told him. "It is surely a magnificent 
piece, don't you think?"

"I have heard people say many things about it," he said, and then he pushed his cock head
into my pussy and held it there.

I could feel it rubbing against my love button right away, and I started to moan as the 
pleasures began to surge through my body. He hadn't even entered me yet, but I was already 
overcome with a lust, greater than any I had known before.

He thrust all the way into me, then, and two things happened. I could feel his cock bone 
making contact with my clit, wiggling it, and my pussy walls starting to spasm hard around 
that magnificent organ. My pussy could only spasm so much because of the incredible 
thickness of his cock, but I didn't mind.

I loved the way I was clinging to him, and getting wetter and wetter, too.

I wrapped my legs around his ass and started to massage his buttocks. I could feel how 
they were sweating all over my legs, and I knew that he must have been at some kind of 
sexual high, too.

He started to thrust, but rather than fuck me hard, the way I thought he would do, he was 
working his cock around slowly. He was also grinding his cock in and out of my pussy, which 
stretched me even more.

I started to wonder about him. Could he have really been as evil as I had heard? An evil 
man wouldn't have made love so tenderly. He was more tender than anyone else I had ever 
been with, including most of the prisoners. And during the times when I was with the 
prisoners, they were usually tied and I had the upper hand. Yet they were even more 
aggressive and forceful than the loving father.

He started to kiss my face all over, and I could feel him lifting his chest up and moving his 
hands to my nipples. He pinched each one lightly, and my pussy spasmed harder because of 
it. That's when I noticed something.

When I would moan with pleasure, because of the way he was touching me, his cock 
would pulsate inside of my pussy.

It was almost as if he was fucking me the way I had dreamed of being fucked, only a half 
an hour before when I had been masturbating. Ail he cared about were my pleasures, and 
feeling and hearing me respond was making him respond better, too.

The whole idea of it amazed me and made me start to come harder and harder.

Then I felt his cock pulsating in my pussy so much, that it seemed like he was going to 
come. I looked at him and saw the way he had his eyes closed. He was concentrating on 
something quite intensely.

There was sweat pouring down his forehead, and for the first time in my life, I felt what 
might be called love.

Now you might think that odd for a girl, particularly when she knows that the man she's 
fucking is her father, and when she's heard so many terrible things about him to begin with. 
However, I could not help but feel it.

Love, I imagine, must stem from sexual feelings. One is an outgrowth of the other. I had 
only known sexual pleasure up until that point, from forceful sex. I had also known some kinds
of love, like the great love I had for my mother and friends. However, with a softer kind of sex, 
I was beginning to feel a new kind of love that can only be thought of as the real thing.

His dick pulsed a little longer, and then he started to shoot off inside of me. I felt thick 
loads of come shooting deep into my pussy tunnel and saturating me. I could feel it starting 
to drip out as he kept thrusting and shooting more, and I moved my hand to his forehead and
wiped away his sweat.

He kept thrusting until he had no more come to shoot, and even then, he still stayed 
inside of me. I remembered what my mother had said about his cock being big enough even 
in its limp state to fill a pussy, and he certainly was.

Father Anthony did not thrust when he was limp, and I imagine it was because he did not 
want to fall out of me. I didn't care, however. All that mattered to me was that his cock was 
inside of me.

For my pussy was still spasming and clinging to him.

"You feel so nice and warm," he said, running his tongue over my lips.

"So do you. No, hot is more of the word for the way you are making me feel."

"I am glad. I have been thinking about you for the longest time. Ever since I heard that 
they brought you in here."

I moved my hand down to his buttocks and stroked them gently. I pulled his robe up to 
his neck, then, so I could feel the strong muscles in his back.

"If you wanted to see me, why didn't you come down?"

"I did. I've been here many nights when you were sleeping. I've sat here watching you. I 
thought you would be asleep tonight."

"Well, I'm glad that I'm not. I've heard many things about you and... "

I was sorry that I had opened my mouth then, for he looked at me in a strange way, as if 
he wanted to know all the things I had heard about him.

"Then you know my name?" he asked, rubbing my tit.

"Father Anthony, I think. Is that right?"

"Yes. How did you know that it was me?"

"I've spoken with many victims, and they've told me all about you. I've asked about the 
man who tortures them, and they've given my your description."

"Then you are thinking of the wrong man," he said to me. "It is a rare occasion when I 
torture a prisoner."

"You must be joking, Father Anthony!" I said to him. "I have heard so many other things to 
the contrary that I... "

"You would believe what people say about me over what I say about myself? And I am a 
monk, remember that. I will tell the truth."

"You are a monk who has just fornicated with a woman," I said. "So much for that."

He started to laugh, and he moved around inside of me a little bit. I could feel his cock 
starting to throb with a life, and I knew that he would be hard again quite soon, and ready for 
another fucking.

"You have a good point," he said to me. "But, we are back to the point where we were 
before. I told you that if I had wanted to be a monk in the first place, then maybe it would 
make a difference."

"I have never heard of a monk who didn't want to become a monk," I told him. "I always 
thought that you had to have an incredible amount of faith."

"One does. But what is one to do when he doesn't? I ask you that."

I could feel his cock growing more and more, and I hardly even cared about answering his 
question. He seemed to sense that, and moved his hips faster.

Each time he would pull back, even a little, I would feel his cock thickening. It wasn't until 
he was fully hard that he started to thrust in and out in a rather bold way. It was as if he was 
assured of his manhood again, and assured of the fact that now that he had a hard-on, his 
cock wouldn't fall out of my pussy.

I loved the way he fucked me. There was something so incredible about the way he would 
pull his cock back so that the cock head was right at my pussy lips. Sometimes I thought that 
he was going to fall right out of me, but he never did.

He was fucking with feeling, for sure, making sure that he never fell out, and making sure 
that I was constantly at a state of high.

I started to rub the muscles on his back, and I could feel how taut they were. The more I 
rubbed them, the more he loosened up.

"You are so beautiful," he said to me, kissing my face again. "I have never seen a girl as 
beautiful as you are, and that amazes me so much. I wonder how such a beautiful woman 
could have come from her."

I did not want to say anything to him. I thought that he was very handsome, as I must 
have said a million times already, so I could understand where I got some of my looks from. 
However, I had always thought of my mother as a beautiful woman, too and I didn't really 
understand what he was talking about.

I wanted to defend my mother and tell him how beautiful she was, but I was too lost in the
sensations from his fucking.

I started to thrust my hips up and down, too, and I knew that he liked it because it added 
to the fucking. He had to do a lot less work, for an equal amount of pleasure.

I suddenly had an idea that suited me.

"Let me get on top," I said to Father Anthony. "I know that I can control your pleasure 
much better if you'd let me get on top.

" He smiled at me, then kissed me hard on the lips. As he did, he rolled over, grabbing my 
ass and holding onto me so I wouldn't slip off his dick. Believe me when I tell you that slipping
off his dick was the very last thing that I had in mind.

I wanted him inside of me always, and I knew that I could stay on him forever.

Once I was on top, I sat up. He moved his two hands to my tits and started to knead the 
pliant flesh together. He pinched my nipples with just the right amount of force. He was 
making them throb with life.

Meanwhile, I was moving up and down on his cock slowly. I loved the way his thick 
hardness made contact with my erect clit then, and I told him so. Meanwhile, I was also 
caressing his chest.

His robe was up to his neck, and I could see the black curls that were all over his chest. The
hair was so thick that I had to push some out of the way in order to find his small, but hard 
nipples. I pinched them and felt his cock throbbing.

Then, I moved one hand behind my body and caressed his balls.

They were thick, egg-like balls, and I could see how long the sack was by pulling on it. I 
imagined that his balls must have hung and swung very low when he stood up, and I saw that 
I was right, later on, when the fuck was over.

However, since I was in control at that point, I sensed that I would be able to make it go 
on for as long as I wanted to, and I was right. For each time he would start to pulsate in my 
pussy, to a point where I feared he was going to come, I would slow down and sit on him and 
let his cock pulsations subside in my pussy.

All the fucks I had experienced in my life were running through my mind at that point. It 
was so odd. I thought about the three men and how they had abused me, then the monk and 
the thick black-haired man with the loin cloth.

Everything with them had been hard and forceful, as if they were asserting their manhood 
in that way. But this time, everything was slow and easy, the way fucking should be. At least 
that's the way I like it.

For as I've mentioned, many times in my journal, I have seen people who become aroused 
at the end of a whip, or at the thought of a burning torch being applied to their flesh. I, on the
other hand, have always forced myself to come.

Well, sometimes the orgasm would work its way up without force, but it was usually only 
when I tried not to think of my surrounding circumstances.

When Father Anthony's cock felt like it was ready, about an hour after I had been riding 
him nice and slowly, I started to ride him faster. I could hear the way he was moaning each 
time my buttocks slapped down against his groin and his cock was as deep as it could 
possibly be inside of me, and I was moaning just as loud.

He pinched my nipples hard when he was going to come, and because of it, I started to 
come before he did. I could feel my cunt juices rolling all over his cock and making it even 
easier for him to move inside of me, and then his dick shot off.

I could feel myself coming again, the second orgasm taking over for the first one, which 
had only been mild.

That second one was incredible. I could feel my pussy spasming so tightly around him that
I felt like I might have been crushing his cock. I knew that I wasn't, however, for the look on his
face told me of his pleasures.

He came inside of me and we rested on the bed for a long time. Then he gently lifted me 
off his groin and stood up. I looked at his limp cock and swinging balls for a second before he
dropped his robe.

He started to walk toward the door to my cell, and I somehow felt that if I didn't have it 
out with him then, I might be in there for another two years before I ever saw him again. I 
screamed out as he opened the door.

"Father, please don't leave me yet," I said.

"My child, I have to go. If anyone catches me here, I will be in trouble."

"Oh, come now. You are the Monsignor, and I know that you have command over all the 
other monks. No one has authority over you."

"There is one person who thinks she has more power over me."

"And who is that?"

"The Mother Superior, over at the convent. If she were to know that I was down here, she 
would want to do me harm."

"Come now. I cannot believe that a man as strong as you would fear a mere woman. 
Besides, the males in the church seem to have a greater power than the females."

"That is true," he said, and he seemed to be shaking. "But I must go."

"Wait," I screamed, for he had already opened the door and was ready to lock it. "Before 
you go, there's something that I have to tell you."

"What could you possibly have to say?"

"For one thing, I know that you're my real father," I said to him, and I could see the look of
shock on his face. "And for another, I know... "

"That the Mother Superior is your mother?" he asked.

It was my turn to look shocked.





CHAPTER EIGHT


Father Anthony knew that he had told me a secret the minute he opened his mouth. For 
suddenly, I turned white. He walked back into my cell and sat down on the bed beside me, 
then stroked my long black hair.

"I don't think you knew everything, did you?" he asked. "You did know that I was your 
father, my child. Yes, it is true. I am the one whose sperm is responsible for your very existence,
and I love you dearly."

He hugged me tight, the way a real father would hug his daughter.

"When I found out that you were going to be born, you cannot believe how happy I was, 
Roxanne. I was the one who even decided on your name, and... "

"But my mother told me that you were angry when you learned I was a girl."

"Your mother?" he asked, his eyebrows moving up. "I think you have just learned of who 
your real mother was, now."

"The Mother Superior?" I asked him. "That's what you said, but that is not the story that I 
have heard. Please, tell me all."

And this is the story he had to tell me.

When he was eighteen, his parents decided that he would become a monk. Anthony was 
quite mature for his age, and his parents thought that he would make a fine monk. As far as 
they had known, he was still a virgin, too.

However, Anthony had been fucking around since he was thirteen, and able to get a 
hard-on and come. He would work out in his fathers field, sometimes taking breaks to go 
down by the lake with a milk maiden.

As he related it to me, there was no pleasure in the world greater to him, than the moment
of orgasm. He loved to know that a woman was writhing with pleasure under the influence of 
his cock, and he would always get turned on by the. sound of loud moans.

He had fucked almost thirty different girls by the time his parents came to him with their 
news of what he would do for the future.

"I was always an obedient child, however," Anthony said to me that night in my cell. "I had 
been raised and taught to obey all that my parents wanted, and when they told me what they 
wanted for my future, I went along with it."

He had some misgivings, of course. He knew that he would have to resort to masturbation
a great deal because he would always wake up with an erection. However, he knew that he 
could make it through like that because of the private cell chambers that the monks all lived 
in. He knew that it would be easy to masturbate each morning without the others finding out 
about it.

However, Father Anthony was not ready for the things that he encountered when he 
became a monk, or even those tests before he was allowed to put on his robe.

The first test took place in the dungeon of the monastery.

He was tied up, his hands pulled over his head, and standing in the middle of a room. The 
Monsignor, an old man with white hair, and three other monks, all stood around him. There 
were two naked girls there, also.

"Have you ever made love to a woman?" the Monsignor asked him.

"Yes," he said, thinking that he should be honest.

"And have you enjoyed what you did?"

"Yes. It was the greatest pleasure in the world. But I am ready to give it up."

He was naked at the time, and the two naked girls were over by one side of the room, in 
the shadows. As soon as he told the Monsignor that he was ready to give it up, the two girls 
were told to step out.

Father Anthony had never seen such raving beauties in his life. The girls he had fucked 
when he was at home had all been on the plain side, of lower class and breeding. However, 
the two who stood before him, both with blonde hair, had high, upraised tits, beautiful 
looking pussies, and curved features.

As soon as he saw them, his cock started to get hard. He closed his eyes and tried not to 
concentrate on them, hoping that his erection would subside.

However, the Monsignor commanded the girls to stroke him.

He could feel hands all over his naked body, but mainly on his vital organs. They were 
rubbing and caressing his nipples and his cock and balls, and even his asshole. His buttocks, 
so he told me, had always been a sensitive part of his body, and quite open to touch. One girl 
started to lick his ass cheeks.

His cock was fully hard in a few minutes.

"Do you still think that you're ready to give it all up?" he was asked., "Yes," he said, 
although he wasn't sure at all.

"Then pray to God. Pray to Him and ask Him to help you through."

That was when he started to move his lips, asking the Lord to get his cock down and 
prevent him from feeling sexual pleasure. At the same time, the girl touching his cock started 
to move her tongue back and forth over his slit, and he could feel a drop of come working its 
way up through his shaft.

She smeared it all over his cock head with her tongue.

His legs started to buckle, and if his hands hadn't been strung up over his head, he would 
have sunk to his knees. For the sexual pleasure was rising steadily, and there was nothing that 
he could do about it but go along with it.

He started to moan louder when the girl flicking her tongue over his cock head opened 
her mouth all the way and started to take his shaft down in her throat.

It was the first time any girl had ever been able to take his massive organ down her throat, 
so he told me. For usually, when he had been with a girl at home, he had always wanted to be 
tender and loving.

He would let a girl suck his cock, but he was so big that none of them could take him all 
the way down, and since he didn't want to apply force, he never did.

Soon his cock was pulsating, but the girl pulled her mouth away before he came.

"Are you still sure?" the Monsignor was screaming. "Are you sure that you can become a 
monk and devote your life to the Lord?"

"Yes," he screamed, even though he thought he would come.

Suddenly, he felt a tongue reaming at his asshole. He turned around and saw that the girl 
who had been licking his buttocks was now spreading his ass cheeks wide with her hand and 
ramming her tongue into his tight asshole.

He could feel his entire body loosening up, and the girl in front grabbed his shaft and 
started to jerk him off. She flicked her tongue back and forth over his cock head again, just as 
he started to shoot his load.

He was praying at the time, asking for God's forgiveness. But as he related the story to me,
he said that he was hardly even thinking of God. He was just saying the words, but they had 
very little meaning for him.

The only thing that meant something to him was the sexual pleasure he could feel during 
orgasm, and since he was feeling it at the same time that he was being worked over, that took
first preference.

He did pass his test, he told me, and the reason was, according to the Monsignor, because
he kept praying the entire time.

"However, there was a greater reason than that," he told me.

It took him a while to figure it out, but, according to him, they wanted him as a member of
the monastery because of the size of his cock and the threat of it. He would be used to torture
a great many prisoners.

When he told me that, I was shocked.

"But you told me that I was wrong when I said all those men told me you tortured them," I 
said to him. "Now you say you did torture people."

"Yes, I did. But only when I was still a monk, and under the authority of the Monsignor. I 
wanted to get on his good side, for I figured that he did have some feelings for me, and I 
might be a replacement for him."

His first test was an easy one, as he told me.

A young brown-haired girl had been brought in. She was screaming out all kinds of 
obscenities, and that was all she would say. He was told, by the Monsignor, that the girl was 
possessed by the Devil.

She was tied down to a large wooden table, and Father Anthony was forced to fuck her. As
he explained it to me, she didn't really turn him on, nor did he want to enter her when he saw 
the way she was screaming. She looked like she was insane and quite possibly out of an 
institution.

She had been brought over from the convent by the Mother Superior, and that was the 
First time he had ever seen the woman.

He described her as a woman who could have once been quite beautiful, but, over the 
years, she had let her inner evil work its way to her outer features, until there was a kind of 
ugliness about her.

Still, she had authority, too.

And she seemed to be the one who wanted to watch him fuck. He was stripped of his 
robes, and then told to get into the girl. He climbed on the table and rubbed his cock against 
her pussy lips, until she was wet.

Suddenly, he felt something on his ass. He turned around in time to see a thick red lash 
mark appear on his buttocks, and then the whip in the Mother Superior's hand.

"You don't coddle to the young girl, fool!" she screamed at him. "This is not for her 
pleasure. This is to get the devil out of her system."

He started to ram his cock into her, only to avoid being whipped on the ass again. As he 
plunged into her and felt her cunt stretching fast to take in his thickness, the girl screamed out
again, cursing him.

"Do not listen to her," the Mother Superior screamed.

Father Anthony paid attention to the Mother Superior only, since she had the whip in her 
hand and it had been painful for him to be lashed.

He could feel the girl's cunt starting to spasm around his cock, and he was glad when she 
came for that's when she got wetter. Up until the point when she got wet, he had been 
fucking a semi-dry cunt, and as he told me, it was just as painful for him as it must have been 
for her.

When he looked over at the Monsignor and the Mother Superior, he thought that they 
both looked like they were excited. He could see her rubbing her legs together, and casually 
letting her hand wander down to her crotch to stroke herself.

She did not pull up her gown, however.

He could feel his cock pulsating soon enough, and then he started to come inside of the 
girl. He grunted and groaned as he filled her with load after load of cock cream, but she 
continued to scream the entire time.

He pulled out of her and turned to the Mother Superior.

She reached out and grabbed his cock. She tugged on it so hard, and as he told me, for 
the first time in his life he could sense some kind of hatred from a woman's touch. She was 
yanking his cock, as if she thought he was evil or something. As if she was jealous of it. As if 
she wanted to pull it off.

He screamed in pain, but she wouldn't let go until the Monsignor ordered her to.

"This man cannot do anything," the Mother Superior said. "Look at the girl. She's still 
possessed. He did nothing."

"And we are sorry about that," the Monsignor said. "However, Father Anthony did as best 
as he could, and there is no reason to hold angry feelings against him. We commanded and 
he obeyed. Come, Father Anthony. Dress and we shall leave."

The two of them went back to the Monsignor's office where they had a long talk.

"The Mother Superior didn't seem happy with me," Father Anthony said, very much 
concerned for he had wanted to impress her.

"She is never happy with any man. I've noticed that for the longest time. I've known her for
years, and seen her handle many cocks with hatred."

"That confuses me, Monsignor," he said. "I thought when I entered the church that I would
not be allowed to have sex. However, today I have had intercourse with a young girl, and I 
imagine, from what went on, that these things happen often."

"My son, there are many things that I wish I could explain to you, but I cannot. Let me just 
tell you that when I put you to the test, before you entered the monastery, I knew that you 
were a man ruled by your cock. Any man with a cock the size of yours has to be ruled by it. 
There is no other way."

"Yet, you accepted me as a leader of the church," he said.

"Yes, I did. And that was because I knew we needed men like you. Many tortures are 
carried out here. Once, I thought it was in the name of God, but that has changed ever since I 
met the Mother Superior."

"I don't understand, Monsignor. Forgive my ignorance."

"The woman is more evil than anyone I've ever met. I have seen many men castrated by 
her hand. She seems to always smile as the blood pours out of them and covers her hand, 
which holds their testicles. It is almost as if she wished that she had those testicles all to 
herself."

"I see."

"Yes. I know that there is something terrible about her, yet since she is the Mother 
Superior, we must go along with all that she does. All the nuns flock under her and listen to all
her commands. One reason I chose you to become a monk was that I knew the Mother 
Superior would envy you for your cock, and that she would not be able to do anything about 
it. I watched her watching you, and she was jealous."

Father Anthony did not say anything to the Monsignor.

However, he did listen to some horrendous accounts of things that the woman had done. 
At certain points, when he heard or her sadistic streak, he thought that he was going to be 
sick and heave up all his food.

He managed to keep it all down, though, and after the Monsignor was finished telling of 
the Mother Superior, he had other things to say.

"I do like you a great deal, Father Anthony.

I see a lot of myself in you. Of course, I am talking about myself when I was younger. I 
think that one day, you will be the man who succeeds me."

Father Anthony smiled as he told me that story, and for a second, I thought that he was 
going to leave my cell. I touched his hand.

"But how did you and the Mother Superior ever conceive me?" I asked.

"That is one horrible story," he said to me.

It all began one evening when the Mother Superior came to see the Monsignor. She had 
brought a young girl with her, Roberta, the one who had raised me as a mother.

"This girl is a whore," the Mother Superior said to the Monsignor. "I know that she has 
been whoring with many men, and I have treated her as a whore should be treated. I want you
to dispose of her."

The Monsignor was shocked, to say the least. Most prisoners were tortured in order to get 
them to confess, and many were killed during the tortures. However, it was almost as if the 
Mother Superior was requesting that the girl be killed.

The Mother Superior left, and Father Anthony and the Monsignor were taken down to the 
dungeon where the young woman was strapped down to a table.

She was one of the most beautiful women Father Anthony had ever seen.

She was still fully dressed, and the two men began to take off her clothing slowly.

"Please, you must help me," the girl was moaning. "You must."

Father Anthony was busy checking over her body. He could tell that someone had really 
abused the young girl. There were teeth marks on her nipples, and as he pulled her frock all 
the way off, he saw that her pussy bush had been burned away.

When he looked closer, he saw that her cunt lips looked quite bad.

He touched them and she shivered with pain, so he pulled his fingers away.

"Someone must have really worked her over," Father Anthony said to the Monsignor. "I 
have never seen such a disgusting thing."

"Who did this to you?" the Monsignor asked the girl.

"The Mother Superior. She's an evil woman. I hate her so."

"What happened?"

"My mother brought me to the convent to confession, telling me that I should tell 
everything to the monk. My mother knew that I had been fucking boys, and she hated the 
idea of it. While I was in the confessional, she must have been telling the Mother Superior all 
that she knew. For when I came out, my mother was gone and the Mother Superior told me to
come with her.

"We went to her office where we had some wine and spoke. There must have been 
something in the wine. I felt drowsy the second I had a drink, and I didn't wake up again until I
was strapped to the table in the dungeon."

"And then what?"

"She was there all alone, pulling at my nipples and trying to get me to confess to my sins. 
She thought that my taking a man's cock into my cunt was the worst sin of all. I thought it was
all pleasure."

"And then what?"

"Then she started to kiss me and tell me that she could bring me pleasures that no man 
could bring me. I was repulsed at the idea. She moved her lips all over my lips, then down 
over my tits. She was fondling my pussy at the same time, too, as if she really loved what I was
doing.

"I could not respond, however. The thought of this woman touching me was sending chills
through my body. She got upset when I didn't respond. She tried to lick me, and no matter 
how much I pretended that it was a man, I couldn't come. That's when she screamed at me 
and told me that I would never feel another man again. She rammed the phallus into my 
pussy. It was flaming. You see the results before you."

The Monsignor called for a physician, and he came to examine the girl while he and Father
Anthony went to his office to talk.

The Monsignor was quite concerned.

"I have suspected, for a long time, that the Mother Superior hates cocks, and fondles 
women so tenderly, because she loves women. Now I am sure of it."

"And what are we supposed to do about it?"

"I am glad you asked me that, Father Anthony. I think we should teach that woman a 
lesson that she will never forget."

The handsome father smiled at me as he told me the story, and then he reached over and 
stroked my long black hair again.

"And you, my lovely Roxanne, are the result of that lesson the Monsignor planned for the 
Mother Superior. You see, he wanted her to learn how a cock felt inside of her, and I was the 
one with the cock to fuck her."





CHAPTER NINE


The Monsignor continued his story.

They called the Mother Superior to the monastery two days later, after the young blonde 
girl had recovered. The physician lined her pussy with medication in the hopes that she would 
be able to lead a normal sex life again.

The only thing, he told both monks, was that the girl would never be able to have any 
children for the rest of her life.

Both Father Anthony and the Monsignor knew that they had to tell the girl what had 
happened as a result of the Mother Superior's flaming phallus, but they decided to wait until 
she was stronger and could take the news better.

Meanwhile, they plotted against the evil woman.

When she came to see the Monsignor, she asked about the girl. He said that she had 
confessed to her whoring, much to the Mother Superior's surprise, and then suggested that 
since they were through with the girl, they should drink a toast to each other's health. He 
slipped some sleeping potion into her drink.

She woke up, strapped to a table, and stripped naked, just like one of her victims would 
have been.

Father Anthony told me that she had a lovely body for a woman her age. She had short 
black hair and a thick pussy patch. Her tits were large and round, with two thick brown nipples
atop each mound of flesh. She was out of breath and her tits were heaving up and down 
when she woke up, and she immediately struggled to try and break free from the confining 
bonds that held her down.

"What am I doing here?" she started to scream.

Father Anthony and the Monsignor were the only two men there, and both of them were 
standing off in the shadows. The father waited for the Monsignor to speak first.

"You have sinned, Mother Superior," the older man said, stepping forward.

"Monsignor, have you lost your mind?" the woman asked. "You will untie me immediately 
and let me dress. This joke is over."

"It is no joke, and on the contrary, we have not even started. Mother Superior, I am quite 
angered by the things you have done to the poor girl who was sent here. She told us 
everything."

"Whatever she said must have been a lie about me."

"I don't think that it was," the older monk said to the woman, who I learned was my 
mother. "In fact, I've had my suspicions about you for a long time. She only confirmed many 
things that I had been thinking."

"I don't understand what you're talking about, sir," the Mother Superior said.

"You have feelings for women that you carry out on your victims. I know that. I always 
thought that you did, but now I know for sure. You abused that girl because she did not 
become aroused under your caresses. You have burned her brutally."

"She was a whore, and she was treated as such," the woman screamed.

"She was no whore. She was just an innocent young girl whom you had lecherous feelings 
for. You have always hated men. I know that. And now I know why. You want a cock, don't 
you? You like the power that you assume comes with a cock."

"Shut up," the woman screamed. "God is looking down on you, and He is condemning 
your soul to hell for what you are saying."

"God knows what you have done, so don't make those kind of excuses to me. He is 
helping me to teach you the right way."

"And what way is that?" she asked, sarcastically.

The Monsignor called for Father Anthony to step out so the Mother Superior could see 
him. The father had been stripped of his robe, by the Monsignor, and as he had been looking 
at the older woman, he had been playing with himself.

His cock was hard, and the Mother Superior gasped as he approached her.

"Father Anthony has the cock you almost pulled off once," the man said. "You wanted it 
that badly that you hurt him. And now, he is going to let you have it. He is going to give it to 
you so you feel it."

Father Anthony climbed up on the table and started to rub his cock against the cunt lips of
the naked Mother Superior. She continued to scream for the length of the fuck, calling him all 
kinds of names.

However, the Monsignor was standing next to him, and he started to pinch the bound 
woman's stiff nipples while the father rubbed his cock against her lips to try and make her wet.
She did respond a little.

He entered her on command and started to thrust his cock hard.

She tried to bite his neck, and the Monsignor slapped her across the face with an open 
palm, telling her that everything was being carried out for her own good. She didn't seem to 
understand that.

According to Father Anthony, she was not the greatest fuck, because she hardly even 
responded. Her pussy walls were lined with some wetness, but she never spasmed once, nor 
did she get any wetter than she had been upon his cock entry.

The Monsignor was screaming for him to shoot his load inside of the woman, so she 
would know what it was like to be filled with male come. However, he was having a hard time 
reaching orgasm because of her lack of response.

"Usually," ire said to me in my cell, "the thing that turns me on the most when I make love 
to a woman is feeling the way she responds. When there is no response, then there is hardly 
any turn-on for me."

In order to come, he had to start thrusting harder and harder to build himself up. When he
felt like he was going to come, he didn't even try to hold back. Instead, he just pumped one 
thick load after another into her pussy.

She moaned, but only at the point when he was coming. By that time, his senses were at a 
high, and there was nowhere for them to go but down.

As he started to come out of the orgasm, he pulled right out of her.

"There," the Monsignor said, pinching her nipple again. "You have felt a cock and I hope 
that you appreciate it."

They left her there, tied up, until she stopped screaming.

Neither one of them was around when she was untied and set free. Instead, they sent an 
innocent third party to go and untie her, and she went back to the convent.

Meanwhile, the young blonde was recovering because of the medication that the 
physician had lined her pussy walls with, but she was still too weak to get up. They kept her in 
the same cell where I am now, as I write this, on the same mattress.

About three months later, they were ready to let the girl go.

However, it was around the same time that they received an urgent letter from one of the 
young nuns at the convent, telling them that the Mother Superior had tried to kill herself.

The Monsignor felt, in some ways, that it was his responsibility because of what he had 
made Father Anthony do to the girl. He and the young father went to the convent to see the 
ailing woman.

She refused to talk with them at first. In fact, she seemed repelled by them. However, the 
Monsignor was persistent.

"Why would you want to take your life?" he asked her. "You are a good woman in many 
ways, Mother Superior. You have done much good in your life."

After about an hour, she spit out the words.

"I am with child," she screamed. "I am with his child. That is why I tried to kill myself. But I 
really didn't try to kill myself. I was trying to kill the child. I stuck a large phallus up my vagina 
and hoped that I would kill her. I fainted and they found me in a pool of blood."

The way Father Anthony told me the story, he was quite delighted when he discovered 
that the woman was pregnant with his child.

All his life he had wanted to be a real father, and not just a monk. Once he had entered the
monastery, he had thought that he would never have the chance.

Now the reason I was allowed to live was simple.

The Mother Superior had failed to do anything to me when she tried to kill me with the 
phallus, and they all thought that she was too weak to try again. It was suggested, by the 
Monsignor, that she go into solitude and have the child.

It would be explained to all the nuns that she was praying and asking for forgiveness 
because of her suicide attempt, and she would not return to the convent until after she had 
had the baby. She could do nothing but agree, if she wanted to keep on living.

The Monsignor and Father Anthony helped her travel to the convent where she entered 
solitary. None of the monks, except for the older leader and my father, were ever allowed to 
see her.

"She seemed to grow even more beautiful as her belly swelled, even though her mind 
seemed to get even more demented," Father Anthony told me. "She had such a hatred for 
you, even before you were born, that I thought you might not even live. We knew that she 
would need help during the birth, and that's where the woman who pretended to be your 
mother came into the picture."

Father Anthony explained that the girl didn't want to leave the convent, because now that 
she knew she was barren and could never have a child, she didn't see any sense in living. She 
wanted to be taken on as a servant.

Now the monastery only had male servants, just as the convent had female servants. The 
Monsignor suggested that she be allowed to serve the Mother Superior, and they were happy 
to learn that the girl had even helped out during a few births when she had been living home.

The Mother Superior treated the girl with a tremendous amount of hostility, but she was 
still allowed to serve her. After all, the Mother Superior had to have someone bring her food, 
and Father Anthony and the Monsignor were not around all the time to do that. So the 
blonde named Roberta did it all.

"It was almost as if she felt it was her child to begin with, anyway," Father Anthony told me.
"She seemed to have more love for you before you were born than the real mother did, so it 
was only natural that we should let her take you."

"And the Mother Superior agreed?" I asked him.

"What could she do? Once you were born, she had to return to the convent and assume 
her duties as their leader. She was not going to take her child with her."

"And Roberta wanted me?"

"Yes," Father Anthony told me. "I loved you then, just as I love you now, and it seemed to 
me that Roberta would be able to care for you better than anyone else. The Monsignor and I 
agreed to support her."

I started to think about everything that Roberta had told me when I had visited her in the 
cell where she was being kept prisoner.

So her story had been filled with lies, I thought. I started to tell Father Anthony everything 
that she told me, and he smiled.

"You see. To this day, she still thinks that you are her natural child. I think that part of her 
mind left her when she took care of you. It was that part of her mind which knew you were not
her child. She forgot about that and started to believe that you were. To this day, she still 
believes it."

"But why were we taken prisoner?" I asked. "Why did you do this?"

"I did not do this," he said to me. "The Mother Superior was the one who sent the three 
men to get you. She feared that one day, Roberta would tell you the truth and you would 
know who your parents were. As you can tell, I do not mind confessing that I am your father. I 
am proud of it, too. However, the Mother Superior felt that it would damage her reputation 
too much, and didn't want anyone to know."

I started to cry. Although I had never met the woman who I now knew to be my mother, I 
had such a hatred for her. Any woman who would have something like this done to her own 
daughter deserves nothing but hatred.

"Why did my mother tell me that you were evil and wanted to cut off our money?"

"I did want to cut off some of the money," Father Anthony told me. "You see, when I was a 
young monk, it didn't make a difference to me where the money came from to support you 
because the Monsignor was in charge. Then, when I took over for him, I saw that the man who
had preceded me had been taking the money from another part of the budget. I realized that 
I could no longer afford to do that."

"Then you have never hated me because I am a female?" I asked.

He moved his lips to mine and kissed me hard again.

"No," he said. "I have always loved you, and always will."

I felt him pressing his weight down on top of me once more, and I knew that he was going
to want to make love to me.

However, now that we had discussed our relationship to each other, I wasn't sure if I could 
do it. I didn't think that I could let my father make love to me again.

His cock bulge was beginning to rise steadily, and he reached for my hand and pulled it 
down between his legs. I rubbed his hard cock through his robe, and he moaned.

"You are soft and gentle, just like the woman who raised you."

"Roberta. You mean you have made love to her?"

"Many times since she's been a prisoner here. I can make love to her without any fear of 
her getting pregnant. She seems to have forgotten that she cannot have babies, however, and
each time I make love to her, she tells me that she hopes she conceives."

He pulled his robe up, exposing that huge cock. I could feel him starting to rub it against 
my pussy lips once more, and I moved my hand there and covered my slit so he could not 
enter me.

"Forgive me, Father Anthony," I said to him. "But now that I know you are my real father, I 
cannot let you make love to me again. You have made love to me twice, but that was before I 
was certain."

"Surely you cannot leave me with this urge," he said. "When I leave here they will all notice 
the bulge, unless you do something."

His cock did look so inviting, and I could understand what he meant.

I started to stroke his cock firmly, then licked my lips.

"I can service you in other ways," I said. "I can do things to you that will make you feel 
better than if you were in my pussy."

He knew what I was talking about and he stood up next to my bed. That way, his cock was 
only a few inches away from my lips.

I stuck out my tongue and started to flick it back and forth over the tip of his cock. I could 
feel how tense he got when I did that, but it was all pleasure tension. I started to run my 
tongue along the underside of his cock, down to his balls.

They were so big that I could hardly keep both of them in my mouth. However, I did 
manage to suck them both in.

I could feel his knees starting to buckle a little bit, and as I looked up at him he was 
looking down at me, with a kind of fatherly approval.

I started to rub his ass, remembering when he told me how sensitive his buttocks were, 
and he started to moan. He was jerking his cock shaft the entire time, and I was looking 
forward to swallowing his load.

I saw a drop of come at the tip of his cock, and he started to smear it all over the thick 
mushroom-like cock head.

I could taste his come in my mouth before I even started to suck on the tip.

However, once I saw him rubbing the come there, I knew that I was going to have to take 
him deep in my mouth. I let his balls fall into my hand and I cradled them while I opened my 
mouth wide, to fit around his thickness.

He was kind and gentle, I could tell, just from the way he let me work his cock over, rather 
than holding my cheeks and fucking my face, the way others have done repeatedly. I knew 
that if he had started to fuck my face, he could have hurt me.

He let me move my mouth all the way down his shaft, to the root, and I could smell a very 
sweet odor in his pubic patch.

I held him deep in my throat until I felt like I was going to gag, and then I pulled my 
mouth back to the tip of his cock and played with the head.

I continued like that, for the duration of the sucking, until I heard him starting to moan 
and felt his cock pulsating. I pulled his balls as he started to shoot his sweet come into my 
mouth, and I let it rest on my tongue for a long time before I swallowed it all. He seemed 
quite pleased. However, he got ready to leave again.

"Please," I begged. "Now that we have talked, and you have told me everything, why can't 
you let me go? I want my freedom."

"I was hoping you would not ask me," he aid. "That is something that I would have to risk 
my life for. It would be hard."

"But you are the Monsignor here. Surely you can do as you please."

"You are wrong," he said to me. "The Mother Superior is in control here."

"At the monastery?" I asked. "I hate to suggest that you're lying, but... "

"We are not at the monastery," he said. "You have been held prisoner all these years in the 
dungeon at the convent. Where the Mother Superior is in control."





CHAPTER TEN


It has now been almost two months since Father Anthony came to visit me, and he has come a
few times since. I don't let him make love to me since we have spoken to each other as father 
and daughter, but he keeps promising to help me escape.

The last time he was here, two nights ago, he told me that the Mother Superior was ill and 
dying, and that once she was dead, I would be able to leave and live in a world without fear.

I begged him to let me see her. I just have to see the woman who was my real mother and 
talk to her. He said that it would almost be impossible, but I kept telling him that I must. He 
said that he will see what he can do.

In the meanwhile, I have grown closer and closer to the blond mute boy, who is really the 
only companion that I have. I have learned how to manipulate his cock and make him come in
a few seconds, and usually, during the day when we are alone, we pass the time in such a 
fashion.

I lie on my bed while he sticks his cock through the bars and lets me lick it. He loves it the 
most when I run my tongue along the underside of his shaft and his cock twitches back and 
forth.

I know how much pleasure that brings him, and when I don't want him to come right 
away, I will usually continue like that for hours, sometimes. But when I do want him to come 
fast, because my mouth is dripping in anticipation because I want to taste his come, then I will
suck him into my mouth, deep, and it never takes more than five minutes before he is feeding 
me his seed.

I can still taste his come on my tongue, for I have just sucked him off a few minutes ago 
before I wrote this.

That was because of the pleasure I felt upon receiving a note that he carried. The note was 
from my father, and he told me to prepare myself, for tonight is the night when I will see my 
real mother and leave the dungeon forever.

I cannot wait.



* * *



I am writing this now in the small house where I used to live with my mother. I cannot 
believe that I am free, but I am. It is almost sunrise, and I can see how bright the sky is getting.
I can see the sun rising from my window, and it is the first time in almost three years that I 
have seen it.

But enough of that. It is my first night of freedom, and I must write down everything that 
happened to me before I left the convent.

Tate at night, I heard a noise near my cell. I awoke in time to see Father Anthony unlocking
the door. He was carrying a black frock with him, and for the first time since I had been taken 
prisoner, I was allowed to slip into some kind of clothing.

The material felt so good against my skin, that my nipples popped into stiffness.

"Come. I will take you to see your mother now. She is near death's door, and I would like 
her to see you."

"And what about the woman who raised me and was a mother to me?" I asked him. "I 
would like to see her, and perhaps she can leave with me."

"She is no longer alive," Father Anthony told me. "One of the last things that she did 
before taking to her sick bed was kill the woman."

"The Mother Superior killed Roberta?" I asked, the tears already in my eyes.

"Yes. She wanted to make sure that the secret died with all who knew. Of course, she 
would not do anything to me, for she assumes I will keep the secret. Come."

He took my hand and started to lead me through the catacombs. I had walked through 
them so many times during the last few years, and yet, I don't think I ever knew my way 
around. I was always led, and this time, it was no different.

Except for one slight difference, of course. We came to a door, and when the father 
opened it, I noticed steps leading up. I was so elated that I ran up the stairs in front of him. I 
could see the night sky, and the stars.

Oh God, You are a wondrous person to have created such beauty in the sky.

The Monsignor took my hand and started to lead me toward the Mother Superior's room. 
He didn't even knock. He assumed no one would be there, and he was right.

She didn't look so bad, for a woman near death's door.

She was sleeping, and although her hair was white, there was still a great amount of 
youthfulness in her looks. Her face was not wrinkled, as I'd expected it to be, and her breasts, 
covered by a blanket, seemed rather large.

"Wake up," Father Anthony said to the woman, shaking her.

She moaned a little bit, and then tossed and turned in the bed. He slapped her across the 
face once, with a good hard blow, and she opened her eyes.

I lit a candle so she could see. When she saw Father Anthony, she gasped.

"What are you doing here?" she screamed. "Leave at once."

"I have someone here who wishes to see you," he said. "She has wanted to see you for the 
longest time. You have never wanted to see her."

"What? Leave me alone to die in peace. I want to see no one."

"What about me, mother?" I asked, and I stepped into the light so she could see me. I 
couldn't believe how much I looked like her. "Hello, mother."

"No," she said, and I could see that there was fear in her eyes. "You are a prisoner. You are 
not supposed to be here. You should be dead."

"If you wanted me dead, you should have asked someone to carry out that order. You 
were hoping that I would die, mother, but I'm strong enough. I am a full woman."

"She is," the Monsignor said to me, and he moved behind me.

He started to stroke my breasts through my frock, and I couldn't believe how nice that felt.
He pinched my already stiff nipples, and the fabric just seemed to add to the pleasure that 
was running through me.

"We have had a beautiful child, Mary," he said to her.

"No! No! No! She is not my child. She is not."

I moved my fingers to the woman's lips and started to stroke them gently.

"I know that I am, so there is no use trying to deny it," I told her. "I love you in one way, 
only because you gave birth to me. You should accept that fact. But I hate you for everything 
that has happened to me."

I couldn't believe it when she started to lick my finger. She stuck her tongue out and licked
it, then sucked it between her lips. I could feel a nice tingling in my pussy as she did that, and I
rubbed my legs together.

"She won't listen to what you have to say," the Monsignor said to me. "All she knows is 
evil. That's all she's ever known. All she knows is the depraved lust that she's always held 
inside for women."

I started to pull up my frock slowly, over my pussy. Then I pulled it over my head and 
stood before the dying woman, naked.

"Do you see this body?" I asked. "It was once part of yours. Let me see."

I pulled down her cover and looked at her naked body, laid out on the bed. I knew then 
where I had gotten my tits from, for our tits could have been one and the same pair. I looked 
at her pussy, and thought about the fact that she had only been fucked once in her life, and 
that I was the result of that fucking.

"You do have a nice body," I said. "But you should be proud of mine, and proud of the fact
that you helped in its making."

She hardly even listened to me. Instead, she moved her fingers to my thigh and started to 
stroke me lightly. I could feel my pussy responding.

My cunt lips were starting to get wetter and wetter as she stroked me.

She moved her fingers up my thigh slowly, until she was touching my pussy lips. Then she 
slid one finger in and started to wiggle my clit back and forth, rather hard. I could feel my legs 
buckling.

"Sit on her face," Father Anthony said to me. "Sit on her face. I think she would like to eat 
one last pussy before she dies. I think that it's appropriate that she eats the pussy of the girl 
she gave birth to."

I looked down at her and saw that there were a few tears in her eyes.

Perhaps she wanted me to feel pity for her, but if she did, I could not feel it. As I looked at 
her, I just thought of all the evil things she had done in her lifetime, and even more than that, 
of the tortures I had had to withstand because she had been keeping me prisoner all these 
years.

I spread my legs and climbed onto the bed, thinking that perhaps she could bring me 
some pleasure for just once in my life.

She was my mother, after all, and I wanted to feel pleasure from her.

I pressed my pussy against her face, and she kept her mouth closed. She was refusing me, 
and I turned to Father Anthony.

"I know a way to get her to open her mouth," he said to me.

He stripped off his robe and climbed on the bed between the naked woman's legs. He 
started to rub his cock against her pussy lips.

"Come on, woman. Come on. I fucked you once, and I hope you always remember what it 
was like. Well, now I have the chance to do it again."

He rammed his cock into her pussy with one long thrust, and when she opened her mouth
to scream, I started to thrust my cunt against her. She stuck out her tongue and began to lap 
at my pussy.

I could feel her tongue moving in and out of me, between my tender cunt lips. She could 
not use her hands, since they were lying by her side and I was sitting on them, so I spread my 
cunt wide, exposing my clitoris.

The Mother Superior started to lick it good and hard. At one point, she started to nibble 
on it, but she only used her lips. I imagine that it must have been the most tender 
love-making of her life. She didn't try to hurt me once.

I kept my eyes on her face the whole time, and her eyes were looking up at me.

I think that she was praying for forgiveness, but I don't know. All I know is that I had a 
pretty good orgasm, and even after I had come once, I kept thrusting my pussy back and forth
against her mouth so she could make me come again.

For she did seem to love the juices that rolled into her mouth.

I turned around and looked at the Monsignor.

He was thrusting in and out of her with a full fury now, and when he saw me looking at 
him he smiled. He moved his hands up and down my back, and then around to my tits. He 
started to pull on my nipples as he fucked my mother.

What a family scene, I kept thinking.

If I ever go to hell, it will be because of what happened that night. I made love with my 
mother and father together. The three of us, on one bed.

I could see him pulling his cock out almost all the way, and then ramming it back into her. 
His cock was getting wetter from her pussy lubrication, and I imagine that she must have been
getting off in some ways for that to happen.

Maybe she was getting off because of the taste of my pussy.

At one point, I lifted my ass up and let her slide her arms out from under me. She started 
to massage my thighs as she ate my pussy, then moved her hands around to my buttocks and
squeezed them tenderly.

I could hear the father grunting and groaning, and I sensed that he was about to shoot off
inside of her. His thick cock must have been pulsating.

Suddenly, she grabbed my buttocks and then pulled my cunt so close to her face. I felt her
soft cheeks rubbing against my thigh as she rammed her tongue as deep into my pussy as she
possibly could. I started to come so hard, and my juices were dripping all over her face. She 
still kept my cunt pressed against her.

Then the Monsignor started to come inside of her. I could tell that he was coming because
of the way he was breathing, and he was thrusting in and out of her twice as fast as he had 
been thrusting before.

"Oh yes, oh yes," he kept moaning, and I moved my hand behind my body and started to 
pull at one of his stiff nipples.

I could feel the Mother Superior's chest heaving up and down underneath me as he came 
inside of her, but then, all of a sudden, she stopped moving. He continued to fuck her, but she
was no longer licking me.

Her head fell back on the bed, and I looked at her eyes.

She looked so calm and peaceful.

I knew then and there that she was dead, and I climbed off her body as the father pulled 
his cock out of her. He looked at her and knew that she was dead, too.

"We must dress quickly and get out off here," he said. "They might think that we killed her 
if they catch us here."

"I can't help but feel that I did," I said to him. "Could she have smothered to death in my 
pussy? I think that's how it happened."

We got dressed quickly, covered the Mother Superior and arranged her body so that it 
looked like she might have died in her sleep, then ran out.

I told the Monsignor that I had to get one thing from downstairs, which was this very same
journal, and he led me back to my cell. He didn't even question me and ask me what it was I 
had.

Instead, we fled from the convent, and we didn't stop running until we were past the front 
gate and a few hundred feet away. Then we paused to catch our breath.

"Don't ever think that you killed her," he said to me. "She died of old age, and she had to 
have died at the peak of pleasure. It might have been the first and only time that she ever felt 
such pleasure."

"Then she did not live a very full life," I said, and he agreed.

He told me that this house, where I am sitting and writing now, was still empty and that it 
belonged to him. He said that I could live there if I wanted to, and I told him that I would.

However, I have no money and don't know of any trade that I can do. When I told him that
he would continue to support me.

"But I thought you could not afford to," I said.

"I could not afford to care for two people," he said. "With Roberta and you to feed, it was 
getting hard. But one person will live cheaper than two."

With those words, he left, for he had to get back to the monastery before anyone noticed 
that he was missing.

I arrived at the house a few hours ago, and now the sun is out.

I am looking up at the sky and I can't believe how beautiful it is. The one thing that I 
missed the most, in captivity, was the sunshine and the blue sky, and today I know that I will 
just be able to sit back and look at it, taking it all in.

However, there is one thing, more than anything else, that I cannot get out of my mind. It 
is something that scares me so.

What will Father Anthony do when he learns of the child I am bearing?

Yes, it is true. I have not had my bleeding for the past two months, and the last man to 
make love to me was my father, the Monsignor. I did not tell him that I was with child before 
because I was not sure.

The morning sickness that I feel this morning assures me that I am, however, and I do not 
know how he will take it.

What will he feel, being both father and grandfather to my child, and being the Monsignor
at the same time?

I do not dare to tell him. However, there will come a time when he will come to see me, 
and he will notice my large belly.

I have been thinking a great deal about the mute boy.

It has been a long time since he fucked me, but I am sure that I can get him to make love 
to me and then convince him that he is the father.

Now that the Mother Superior is dead, maybe they can let the mute boy go.

Isn't that odd? I keep referring to him as a boy, yet he is really a man by this time. I would 
not mind taking him as a husband so that my child has a name.

And unlike the way things were when I was young, there would be no reason for anyone 
to fear the truth coming out. The Monsignor will believe me when I tell him that no one will 
know he is the father of my child, and since the blond boy is a mute, he will never be able to 
tell anyone.

This child will be special, I know it. He will have to be.


The End
