MSL-19 The Nuns Of Satan


FOREWORD

"For every one of your sins, so shall ye be punished!" shouted Father Leon, bringing the 
harsh, stinging whip down across my shoulders once more.

I screamed in agony as the harsh, stinging caress of the weapon seared my naked, 
defenseless flesh. The pain was so intense, I felt as if I would faint from the sheer agony of it.

I gazed upon the Mother Superior, smiling with smug satisfaction as the young cleric beat 
me. I had done nothing to deserve this, but I had refused the Mother Superior's advances and 
now I had to pay for my indiscretion.

Once more the cruel, cutting strands of the whip slashed across my spine and I wailed as 
the pain roared through me. My body was suspended from a beam, my toes barely touching 
the cold, wet stone of the floor beneath them.

Every move I made brought more pain to my body, and my wrists throbbed achingly as 
the rough cord that bound them cut into my flesh. I gasped, sobbing and begging for 
forgiveness, but the Mother Superior ignored my pleas for mercy.

I had fallen into a living hell in the convent, I had never dreamed such horrible acts were 
performed behind the stone walls that surrounded the monastery. Now there would be no 
escape from the damnation I had found there.

"Beat her until she has learned not to defy the servants of God," screamed the Mother 
Superior. "Teach her the lesson she must now learn from us! Lay the lash upon her until she 
has paid for all her transgressions!"

I felt the lash cutting into me again and again, now, never ceasing, never giving my flesh a 
moment's relief. As the pain engulfed me, I began to realize what I was becoming: A mistress 
of the damned!

The thought was a horrible one made all the worse by the stinging pain which throbbed in
every part of my body.


CHAPTER ONE

Now, I am old.

My eyes are weak and failing, even the brightest of days brings me little more than a dim 
glow. My body trembles with the slightest movement, and often I find myself too weak even 
to eat.

Everyone waits for me to die, they are almost like ghouls, hovering around my bedside, 
filling my ears with their lies of invented concern. I can see the eagerness for my death in their 
eyes, and hear their breathless anticipation as the words drip from their lips.

No one can fool me any longer. I am not the sweet, innocent child I was when they first 
brought me to the convent. No, I am too aware of what happens behind these walls to be 
confused, now.

Once, many, many years ago, I would have said that the very idea of what I have seen over 
my time here, was heresy. I could have condemned whoever spoke such words to eternal 
damnation. But now, now I know too much.

That is why they wish me to die. They eagerly await the moment when I take my secrets 
with me to the grave. How foolish they are. Do they truly think that I would die so easily, that I
would allow all I have seen and learned to go unnoticed.

Even now, as my hand quivers and I feel the weakness overwhelming me with the effort it 
takes to write these words, I am laughing at them silently. For I, Sister Theresa of the Convent 
of Christ's Children, am going to fix them once and for all!

I have been making notes, keeping track of all that has happened to me and the countless 
other poor, unfortunate young women that have passed through this wicked place. I have 
stored the facts and events away for just this moment.

I shall not survive much longer, but my manuscript will endure and be read by all. The 
world shall know of what happened here, for I shall make sure of that. I have friends and I 
have those, still, that are loyal only to me.

I shall spare, you, the reader of this work, nothing. I shall spare myself even less. I will 
finally, at last, tell the truth of my life and the other nuns and priests who have done more evil 
in His name that you could imagine.

It does not matter to me, now. I am too old to care any longer. Too old to feel sadness at 
my lost youth and purity. Yes, I am as wicked as the rest. As evil as those I shall write of, but I 
admit my sins and I go to my Master prepared to take his punishment. God may damn me, 
but the others will suffer in hell along with me!



* * *



My story begins over sixty years ago. I was a mere child of fifteen then, carefree and full of 
the joy of young, emerging womanhood. How could I have known then, that my youth and 
beauty would bring me such pain and torment?

I was a good girl, I never gave my family cause to worry. I went to church every morning to
pray for my soul and those of my parents. Never did I slip away to the fields with a young 
man, as did so many of my friends. I kept myself chaste and pure for the man I would one day 
marry.

My best friend Kitty used to tease me about it. "It will wither away with disuse, my dear 
Theresa," she would joke, poking me with her long, slender finger. "You had better get some 
good out of it!"

"My dear Kitty," I would reply, covering up my embarrassment with a haughty, 
self-righteous attitude. "I have no desire to spread my thighs for some rough, smelly stable 
boy, I prefer to remain intact until the correct husband comes along!"

No matter how much she might tease me, however, little Kitty was as virginal as I. She 
might wander off into the tall grass with a boy, but it would be a wrestling match all the while,
and she would always return as chaste as she had left.

She had no more intention of giving herself to passion and lust than I. She was 
determined to remain a virgin in the same manner as I was. The boys could follow and 
fornicate with the other girls if they so desired, for us, marriage was the only key that would 
unlock our gates of passion.

I often wonder what happened to poor Kitty. Many times over the years I have tried to use
my powers to find her, but always without success. I fear she must have died young, for after 
that horrible afternoon in the fields, the day both of our lives underwent a change, I am sure a
part of her died.

We were walking home from the market, our baskets loaded down with meats and 
vegetables. It was hard work carrying all the produce home to our tiny huts outside the 
village. The walk was long and the sun was fierce in the sky overhead.

We took our time, for we had the whole day to waste, if we wished, though my mother 
told me sternly, to return home as quickly as I could. I have to confess I dawdled, though, for 
work awaited me at home and I had little wish to greet it very quickly.

We were both wearing our best dresses. They were poor, make-shift affairs, sewn together 
from left-over cloth, but they were beautiful to us, and we always felt very proud to be in 
them.

Wicked little Kitty had shortened the hem of her garment, allowing a glimpse of her 
strong, straight legs almost to the knee. She loved to tease the boys in this fashion, for she 
knew how strongly they reacted to such a darling view as she gave them.

"I do not think it is right for you to stimulate them so much, Kitty," I told her, shaking my 
head at the pink and white ankles that were so slim and attractive. "You are always putting evil
thoughts in their heads!"

"It gives them energy," she laughed merrily as we made our way down the dusty, dirt road 
leading out of the village. "It helps them to work harder!"

"It helps them to daydream about what is beneath the dress you are wearing," I countered.
"That is all that it makes them do!"

Kitty laughed and shook her head. "You are such a prude, dear Theresa," she sighed, her 
tone of voice weary and bored. "I will bet that no man has ever seen your body, not even your
father!"

I blushed, for that was true. My own mother rarely saw me without some clothing on, and 
my father never did. I was very, very self-conscious about my young body. It was growing 
rapidly and I was beginning to feel strange sensations between my thighs, sensations that 
were sinful and wicked, but which I could not seem to control.

I prayed often for the Lord's help in controlling the warm, thrilling pleasures I often 
brought myself to. I knew the feelings were evil and that I must suppress them, but sometimes
it was almost impossible to do so.

I would lay on my mat in the corner of the hut, listening to my father take my mother, 
brutally and roughly, her soft, quiet moans echoing in my ears. I would struggle to keep my 
hands from my loins but they would travel teasingly over my belly and pluck at the sparse 
tufts of hair that covered my mound.

As my Mother's sobs and groans grew stronger, undeniable in their pleasure, and my 
father's harsh, loud grunts filled the room, I would be whimpering, too, with the rippling 
delights that I created in my womb.

They would have been shocked to know how often I pleasured myself. Even now I have 
deliciously fond memories of my fingers riding steadily in and out of my aching passage, 
tapping urgently against my taut maidenhead, rolling and turning against my inner flesh.

Ahhh, the intense and fulfilling sensations would tear through me almost at the same 
moment my parents reached the end of their passion, and I would sigh in overpowering bliss 
as the spasms of relief tore through me.

I was thinking about that when Kitty suggested we take a short-cut through the fields to 
our homes. Normally we kept to the road, for there were often bandits and worse hiding in 
the woods, and two young girls would be no match for a group of strong, young thieves.

But this time, Kitty was impatient to get home. A boy was waiting for her, she had told me, 
and he had hinted at some new method of love making that would bring them both a great 
deal of pleasure without her sacrificing her purity, he claimed.

I found her thoughts and eager anticipation disgusting and wicked and I told her so, 
warning her not to even think of such things. She merely laughed me off, and urged me to 
make the journey through the fields with her.

"Come, Theresa, please," she pleaded with me. "I can't wait to see Edward, I just can't! I 
want to feel his arms around me and the thrill of his manhood quaking against my flesh!"

"Be quiet, Kitty, don't say such things," I hissed, covering my ears with my hands, shaking 
my head furiously. "It will bring you pain, I warn you!"

She laughed once more and touched my arm in an affectionate manner. "Poor, poor little 
Theresa," she sighed. "One day you will learn the secret joy of passion, and you will speak 
differently, I assure you!"

I told her I doubted that, but I followed her into the woods, anyway. I knew she would go 
whether I joined her or not and I had no desire to make the long trip home by myself if I could
have company.

I felt worried and nervous about entering the woods, dark and threatening, the light 
shielded by the trees that towered above us. It seemed much more silent and dangerous in 
there and I could only hope it would not take us long to cross the forest to our homes 
beyond.

As we walked along, I could hear the wind quickly rustling the trees and the many sounds 
and noises that the forest made. We moved swiftly, each step hurried in spite of our 
pretended calm. I could think of nothing but getting out of there as soon as we could.

We came to a small stream, and gingerly made our way across the rippling water. When 
we climbed up the other side of the bank, we were startled by two men coming from the 
woods on the edge of the stream.

A tremor of fear ran through both of us and we gripped each other's arm in fright. Then 
we noticed their clothing and strange, bowl-like hair cuts, and we realized, with relief, that 
they were only a pair of monks on their way to or from the monastery and convent that was 
buried deep in the forest.

We had heard all sorts of rumors about the place and while we did not believe what some 
people told us happened there, we both felt as if we would live rich and happy lives if we 
never set foot inside the walls.

The taller of the two monks spied us first and his eyes went wide and filled with a twinkling
delight as he noticed us clambering up the steep bank. He licked his lips and motioned to the 
other monk beside him.

"Look here, Father David," he said quietly, his voice tinged with a slight chuckle. "It seems 
as if the Lord has provided us with companionship for the afternoon!"

"Ahh, yes, Father James," his fellow monk laughed in delight. "Once more our prayers have
been answered, how kindly of our Master, hummm?"

Both Kitty and I quickly dropped to our knees in front of the monks, our heads bowed in 
respect as they drew near to us. We had no idea of what they were talking about, we felt they 
were probably teasing us, but a strange dread filled my heart as they approached.

Father James reached down with a big, thick-fingered hand and lifted my chin so that he 
could peer into my eyes. I ran my tongue over my trembling lips and he sighed with 
satisfaction as they glistened in the half-light coming through the trees.

"Are you young ladies chaste?" Father James asked us. "Have you kept yourselves pure for 
the Father? Have you driven wickedness from your hearts and minds?"

Of course we both nodded determinedly. Both of us feared and were in awe of all priests, 
nuns and monks, and often I toyed with the idea of becoming a sister myself, instead of 
marrying when the time came.

Naturally, as we knelt in front of the fathers, we had no idea that the very wicked, sinful 
things we were so ashamed of talking about, were about to happen to us. All we thought at 
that moment, was that they would ask us a few more questions to assure themselves of our 
goodness, and then pass on.

"How lucky we are, Father David," chuckled Father James as he ran his hand over Kitty's 
quivering cheek. "Their flesh is as smooth as a baby's, as warm as only their youth can make 
it."

He lifted her chin and bent over, pressing his lips to hers, hungrily. If I was shocked by his 
action, Kitty was even more so, and she quickly tore her mouth from his, quivering with a 
mixture of horror, rage and shame.

"This is no way for a man of God to act," she sputtered, climbing to her feet and tugging 
on my arm. "Come, Theresa, let us go away from these men, I fear that they have more than 
our souls on their minds!"

Father James laughed in delight and caught Kitty's wrist in his big hand. He yanked her to 
him, roughly and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground completely.

"A fiery little devil, aren't you my little one?" he cackled, carrying her toward a glade by the
rushing stream. "I shall have to put God's fear into you, I see!"

Kitty was kicking wildly, punching at him with her small, slender fists. I felt my stomach 
churning with fear and disgust and I turned to run, only to feel the ice-cold fingers of Father 
David clasped around my own, slender wrist.

"Not so fast my little fawn," he hissed, tugging on my arm, dragging me toward the glade 
where Father James now had Kitty on her back in the grass. "I do not think you should rush off
without paying me some respect, do you?"

Kitty was screaming, now, and my poor tummy was boiling with sickness as I watched the 
other monk leaning over her, his hands wandering over the front of her dress, touching her in 
a sinful fashion.

I could not believe what he was doing. He pressed his lips to hers, greedily, driving his 
tongue between her teeth and jamming it into her mouth. I could hear her gagging at the 
invasion and she bit his arrow sharply, making him yelp in pain and lift his head from hers.

"Wicked little slut," he hissed, slapping Kitty viciously across the face twice with his huge, 
powerful hand. "I shall teach you to be more respectful of the cloth! I'll give you a lesson in 
manners, you stupid little whore!"

He curled his fingers around the neckline of her dress and tore downward. His hand ripped
the garment from her body in one, fluid stroke and she was suddenly naked on the grass, her 
flesh damp with the sweat of fear.

"Ohhh, God, Father, please, please don't hurt me," Kitty groaned, shivering with terror and 
fear, trying to cover her exposed breasts and loins with her hands. "Please, Father, I am a 
virgin, I am a good girl! Please, please don't defile me!"

Father James laughed cruelly, leaning back to inspect her taut, young frame with his 
greedy eyes. He ran them up and down over her helpless body, pinning her arms above her 
head with one, huge paw.

Kitty's breasts were small and round, as mine were, still budding with youth, the nipples 
forever taut and erect. Her belly was flat and firm and her love mound was almost completely 
without hair.

Father James licked his lips in greedy delight as he gazed upon her inviting flesh. His free 
hand traveled down over her breasts to her belly and loins and Kitty moaned in shame, trying 
helplessly to twist away from the greedy digits.

"I will teach this little devil how to treat us, Father," the big, strong monk laughed wickedly.
"I will grant her the reward of giving herself to me!"

Kitty screamed, sobbing and begging for mercy now as Father James began to knead and 
caress her breasts. His fingers completely enveloped one small, pert mound and she gasped 
as he squeezed it roughly in his thick paw.

His thumb and forefinger pinched her rosy, erect nipple, rolling it back and forth and my 
poor friend sobbed in despair as he toyed with the tender nugget. She was kicking wildly, 
now, thrashing and twisting in terror, desperate to free herself from his grasp.

He turned his head and glared at Father David who was holding me tightly by my arms. 
"Come, Father, help me with this little wildcat," he hissed, shaking his head in anger. "Tie the 
other little bitch to a tree and give me a hand with this whore demon! She does not seem to 
realize how lucky she truly is!"

"Leave me alone, damn you," Kitty cried, pulling her fists free from his hands and punching
at him, wildly. "You evil monster, leave me alone!"

Viciously Father James smashed his fist into Kitty's face and I heard a sickening crack as her
nose broke under the force of the blow. She moaned and shuddered, a bit dazed by the 
punch, the blood trickling from her nostrils.

Quickly, Father David pulled me to a small sapling and forced me to my knees. I winced as 
he bound my wrists behind the tree with a leather thong, then groaned and stood, making his
way over to the other monk.

Father James grunted at him and he knelt down and grabbed hold of Kitty's wrists. She 
moaned softly as Father James began to explore her young body with his hands once more, 
kneading and squeezing her breasts in a passionate manner.

Poor Kitty was almost unconscious from the cruel beating she had taken at his hands, and 
she seemed to be unaware of what he was doing until his fingers greedily began to caress her 
naked loins.

She screamed and kicked with her long, straight legs, but Father James merely laughed at 
her efforts and slid one of his own, huge limbs between her delicate thighs. She groaned in a 
thick, quivering voice as he forced her damp, quivering limbs apart.

"No, ohhh, dear God, save me, save me," she wailed in a breathless tone of voice. "Don't 
let them do this to me. Lord, please, please don't let them!"

Father James chuckled and slithered his hand over her quivering hillock, plucking the thin 
strands of hair in a teasing manner. "God will not help you, little slut," he hissed through his 
teeth. "No, he has given you to me!"

I still could not accept what I was seeing with my eyes. It seemed incredible to me that two
men of God were about to ravage my helpless friend. I was unable to find any logic or sense in
what was happening and I felt more despair than I had ever had in my life.

I could not tear my eyes away from them, now. I was drawn to watch as if I had no control 
over my actions. I felt my own loins growing warm and damp as the two men forced 
themselves on the struggling young girl, and the shock and shame of my sensations 
overwhelmed me.

I shuddered as I saw Father James's huge fingers riding up and down along the petals that 
guarded Kitty's virginal passage. She sobbed with horror and humiliation as the evil monk 
kneaded and caressed her lips between his fingers.

His digits grew slippery and damp with the thick, creamy fluid that was dripping from her 
womb and he laughed in pleasure, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the tiny pink nob 
that created the feelings in Kitty's loins.

"This little demon is already hot and wet. Father," he chucked darkly. He pinched her thigh 
brutally, making her gasp in pain. "For all her struggles, I believe she wants me as much as I 
desire her!"

"No, damn you, no," Kitty sobbed, shaking her head, denying what he was saying. "You 
bastard, you monster! I hate you, and I hate the foul touch of you! You will never have me 
enjoying this, never!"

Father James chuckled with pleasure and it was obvious to me that he was enjoying the 
horror and shame and fear he was putting her through almost as much as the sensations he 
was experiencing by fondling her flesh.

He jabbed two fingers beyond Kitty's hot, damp entrance to her loins and the unfortunate 
girl screamed in loathing as he sank the invading spears deep into her taut, virginal passage. 
She twisted and turned, trying helplessly to escape the penetration.

My heart was pounding as I saw Father James rolling and turning his fingers in my poor, 
defenseless friend's womb. She screamed in pain as the thick, hard prongs drove into her 
maidenhead, tapping eagerly at the thin wall of flesh that kept her pure.

Steadily he pumped his fingers in and out of Kitty's cunt, twisting and digging at her inner 
flesh with the vicious tools, attempting to widen her tight, narrow tunnel for what was to 
come next.

Poor Kitty screamed and shuddered, but she had no way to escape his cruel attack. He 
eagerly caressed and fondled her loins until they were wet and sticky from the juice that 
flowed from her cave and her thighs were trembling violently against his knee that was 
wedged between them.

"Ahh, my little forest devil," Father James laughed, sliding his body over her thighs and 
between them, inching forward now as he drew up the folds of his robe around his waist. "I 
can feel your tight, warm sleeve around me already!"

Poor Kitty wailed in helpless terror as he drew his shaft near her loins. I could see how big 
and hard it was, thick with pounding blood, almost purple at the throbbing tip. It looked 
much to big to fit inside of her and I moaned in anticipation of the agony my friend would 
soon have to endure.

"Please, Father, please, for the last time, don't," Kitty cried, turning herself from left to right
on the grass, the tears pouring from her eyes. "Please don't do this to me, Father, I beg you, 
please don't!"

But Father James was too involved in his own, evil lust to listen to her pleading any longer. 
He punched her in the side of the head again and growled at her to remain silent or receive 
another blow.

"You have been granted a rare privilege, slut," he muttered through his teeth. "Now be 
quiet and service me as you should! I want no more of your whimpering, whore!"

I watched in horror as he fit the thick, hard head of his manhood between Kitty's cunt 
petals and drove forward, shoving more of the huge prong into her tight, chaste tunnel. She 
screamed in horror and jerked away from him in terror.

Father James just laughed and slid his hands beneath her buttocks. Her roundish bottom 
was twitching violently as his fingers dug into her soft, spongy flesh and the poor girl kicked 
uselessly as he drove his shaft ever deeper into her pit.

Shamefully, now, my own loins were throbbing with excitement. I scissored my thighs back
and forth, enjoying the wet, warm thrill of my lust building rapidly in my womb. I ached as I 
watched Father James so ruthlessly bury his cock in Kitty's chamber, and I realized then, that I 
was more evil than I had ever known.

Yes, I was enjoying my friend's rape! I was finding it stimulating to observe the monk 
driving his manhood into her virgin passage, rocking from left to right until he grunted with 
the contact of his prick against her maidenhead.

"This one is tighter than a wine keg, Father," he growled between his teeth. "It will take 
some doing to pluck this little flower!"

He withdrew from her womb about three-quarters of the way and paused to catch his 
breath. I could see his manhood pounding violently, red with the steaming blood that was 
racing through it, now.

He adjusted his grip on Kitty's bottom and took a deep breath. I was holding my own, 
fiercely, as Father James slammed his hard, thick shaft along Kitty's tight, warm sleeve, 
ramming powerfully into the taut membrane that kept her pure.

She screamed once as the cock drove through her flesh, taking her purity from her forever 
as he buried the shaft to the hilt in her poor, defenseless womb.

The horror and shock that I felt at the ruthless tearing of my friend's virginity was 
completely over-shadowed by the intense pleasure I was experiencing as I steadily rocked my 
thighs back and forth.

I saw Kitty's head turned to one side, sobbing with pain arid loathing as Father James 
began to pump his huge, thick meat in and out of her damaged pit. His strokes were harsh 
and erratic, completely without any rhythm at all as he relentlessly drove his shaft along her 
bleeding passage.

He groaned and bucked, driving his cock deep inside of her, twisting and turning until it 
was buried to the hilt and throbbing violently against her warm, quivering inner flesh. His 
hands kneaded and massaged her tender buttocks and Kitty shivered as the spasms of agony 
raced through her tom vagina.

Harder and faster Father James powered his thundering tool along Kitty's aching tunnel. 
He seemed to be drawing tense as a wound spring and I could see the veins throbbing at his 
temples as his passion increased with each passing moment.

It was almost as if I could feel his shaft in my own womb, then, throbbing and alive, 
slamming ruthlessly against my inner walls. I moaned almost in pleasure as a searing desire 
seemed to consume me.

I watched as the big monk rammed his prick into Kitty's bleeding womb once more, 
shuddering and gasping as he powered back and forth, each stroke making her jerk in agony 
and wince in with the hurt of his attack.

"Ahhh, little flower, yes, yes, this is good," Father James gasped, his voice tortured and 
broken by his lust. "So warm and nice, you are giving me much pleasure little whore, and soon
it will be complete!"

She sobbed more softly now, resigned to her fate as the evil monk continued to thunder 
his tool along her helpless canal. He rocked and shuddered and I heard him groaning deeply 
as his moment came upon him.

He cried out once and buried his prick in the depths of her tom passage as the orgasm 
consumed him. I could see his buttocks shivering with the tremors of his release and as Kitty's 
face tightened into a twisted mask of disgust, I could tell that his seed was filling her 
completely as it spurt from his bursting tool.

After a few more groans and shivers, Father James lifted himself from her belly, his prick 
dripping with blood and semen. He wiped his shaft clean on Kitty's tattered dress and then 
turned and stared at me.

He chuckled softly and looked at Father David. "Now it is your turn, Father," he laughed in 
delight. "You too must taste the fruits of this marvelous forest! We must make use of what the 
Lord provides, must we not?"

Eagerly Father David got to he feet, freeing Kitty's wrists from his vise-like grip. She rolled 
on her side, crying softly, and drew herself up into a pathetic little ball as she sobbed in 
despair.

I felt my belly churning wildly as the two monks approached me. I was frightened yet 
determined not to show it. I knew that I was at their mercy and I had no wish to be beaten as 
Kitty had, for something I could not prevent anyway.

I had resigned myself to losing the virginity I had so jealously guarded and I only desired 
that the act was performed as quickly and painlessly as possible. I would have to deal with the 
shame and disgust later on.

Father David walked up to where I knelt, my arms tightly bound behind me, pinning me to 
the sapling I was leaning against. He smiled and pinched my chin between his thumb and 
forefinger in a harsh, painful fashion.

"I shall kiss you little doe," he whispered passionately, lowering his head to mine. "You 
would be wise to join in the spirit of things, if you know what is good for you, little wild 
flower!"

I realized he was right, and as his wet, eager mouth touched mine, I willingly parted my 
teeth for his tongue's invasion. I groaned as I felt the eager spear slithering between my teeth,
entwining passionately around my own.

Hungrily he mashed his mouth to mine, kissing me deeply as he darted and stabbed with 
his tongue. He tasted of sour wine and decayed food, but I swallowed the bile that rose in my 
throat, determined not to anger him in any manner.

I felt his hands slithering down over my body, feeling for the hem of my dress. I shuddered
as I felt his fingers creeping beneath the hem of my garment, slowly crawling over my naked, 
moist thighs.

"Please be gentle. Father," I begged, my voice weak and drained, filled with the fear and 
anticipation I was experiencing. "I promise not to fight you, just please, please don't hurt me!"

Father David laughed, his hand now cupped over my breasts, the fingers gently kneading 
and caressing my quivering globes. I felt his thumb flicking back and forth against my nipple, 
making it ache and grow firm with his attention.

"What an obedient little child," Father David laughed, taking his lips from mine and staring
over his shoulder at Father James. "For being so good, I believe I shall reward her!"

My heart leaped at his words. I was praying that perhaps he might not take me as Father 
James had taken poor Kitty. I moaned and shivered uncontrollably, a harsh, stinging spasm 
racing through my loins.

His fingers slithered down between my thighs and I parted them willingly, giving him all 
the room he needed to use the digits for his exploration. I moaned as he fondled my loins and
a wave of shame came over me that made me sob in spite of the strange, pleasing sensations 
I was experiencing.

"Yes, little dove, I shall leave this little bit of chastity you possess intact," Father David said, 
wickedly sliding two fingers along my damp, quivering pussy lips. "But only if you respond to 
my wishes."

I groaned, gulping frantically as I tried to speak. "Ohhh, yes, yes, Father," I gasped, 
nodding my head wildly. "Anything you ask, anything at all! I only want to please you, Father, 
that is all!"

Father David laughed once more and drew himself to his feet. He fumbled with the sash to
his robe, pulling it free and allowing the folds of the garment to fall apart, revealing his loins 
to my young and innocent eyes.

I had only seen a penis once before in my life and I had to suck in my breath in shock as I 
saw the huge, throbbing tool that jut from between his muscular thighs. It was almost as big 
and long as Father James's, and I moaned in fear as he drew the massive weapon to my lips.

"You will do exactly as I command you," he said, gruffly, stabbing the hard, thick head of 
his prick against my mouth. "You will first kiss my organ with that lovely mouth of yours, later 
you will be instructed to do much more!"

I had never heard of such a thing. The very idea of putting my lips to his manhood filled 
me with a disgust and loathing that I could barely keep down in my churning belly. I could 
smell the foul, dank odor of his manhood and it filled my nostrils with it powerful, awful scent.

But I knew I had no choice. If I did not wish to be beaten and lose my prized maidenhood, 
I had to do what he demanded. Gingerly I ran my tongue around the hot, throbbing head of 
his shaft.

He tasted salty and sour to my tongue, but I tried to ignore that as I lathered the massive 
helmet. I kissed his fevered flesh with my lips, driving my tongue hard against the narrow slit 
in the middle of the huge head.

Father David groaned and shuddered, a spasm of pleasure rippling suddenly through his 
loins. He gripped my head by the ears and rocked me from left to right, forcing my mouth to 
cover the length of his huge prong.

"My bag, little dove, attend to my bag," he groaned and for a moment I was confused. "My
balls, you silly little bitch, suck my balls right now!"

Then I realized what he wanted and I quickly ran my mouth down to the tight, hairy sack 
that dangled from his groin. It stank even worse than his cock, but I bravely ran my tongue 
through his hair and gathered the hot, slippery sack between my teeth.

Father David gasped as I locked my lips around the throbbing container. I flicked my 
tongue at the huge, hot stones that were his balls, tossing them from left to right against my 
moist, warm cheeks.

I could tell I was having the pleasing effect on him that I wanted to achieve, and he 
shuddered involuntarily as I made noises with my throat and sent harsh, thrilling vibrations 
tearing through his imprisoned sack.

"Ahhh, that's the idea, little dove, that's the idea, yes," Father David moaned, grinding his 
belly against my forehead in a passionate shudder. "Yes, suck on my balls, little flower, suck on
them hard!"

Though I knew almost nothing of the carnal acts between men and women, I instinctively 
understood that he was growing more and more excited. I could feel the semen and blood 
boiling in his bag and I sucked hungrily on his sack, determined to do whatever it was he 
wanted.

I felt his hands tugging on my ears, pulling my mouth from his hairy sack in an urgent 
manner. "The shaft, little dove, suck on the shaft, now," Father David groaned, forcing his prick
against my lips. "Now, little slut, suck it I " now!

I gulped and swallowed hard, trembling now with the fear and disgust that was consuming
me. There was no turning back at this point, so I wet my lips and parted them, allowing him to
slip the head of his manhood between my quivering petals.

I could not bear the thought of what was happening to me, but I bravely relaxed the 
muscles in my throat, knowing that he intended to plunge his tool deeply into my narrow 
passage.

I felt his prick throbbing and quaking against my lips and I groaned as he pushed forward, 
driving it into my taut, moist canal. As the huge prong slithered down along my damp 
passage, I locked my lips around the plunging flesh of his rod and began to suck on the 
disappearing tool with all the power I could summon.

Father David bucked forward, burying his meat to the hilt in my mouth and throat. His 
prick pounded violently against my inner walls and I sucked hungrily on the root of his 
massive shaft, lathering the flesh with my tongue.

"Suck it, little dove, suck it to conclusion," Father David moaned, shuddering 
uncontrollably as he began to rock back and forth on his heels. "Suck my cock until I explode 
little dove, I want to empty myself in your lovely, little mouth!"

I bobbed back and forth in time with him, powering the huge, hot tool along my tight 
canal in a rhythmic fashion. I could feel the shaft quaking wildly in my mouth and from his 
excited moans, I could tell a climax was not far off.

Father David groaned and shivered, grinding his groin tight against my lips as rode his 
meat to the depths of my throat once more. He was gasping and crying out with each feverish
stroke that he took and he held my head tightly between his hands, now, twisting and turning 
his shaft in my mouth.

"Yes, little dove, ahhh, yes," he moaned, bucking his cock viciously along my throat tunnel 
again. "Ahhh, I'm going to come, my dear, going to come in your mouth so good! Ahhh, yes, 
yes, yes!"

I did not know, at the time, what he meant of course, but suddenly he was driving his cock 
in and out of my mouth in a brutal manner, and shuddering almost completely out of control.

I felt something hot and sticky, thick and creamy spurting from his prick and I gulped 
frantically to swallow the salty fluid as it burst from his shaft. I moaned as he climaxed in my 
mouth, filling my tiny chamber with his horrible liquid of love, so much of the fluid that it ran 
down over my lips and chin.

His orgasm seemed to last for a long, long time and I continued to suck on the spurting 
tool and swallow his come until he pulled his throbbing weapon from my lips and stumbled 
backward, exhausted and spent.

"Ahh, that was marvelous, little flower," Father David said, reaching down and untying my 
bonds. "Never has a child serviced me so well and so willingly!"

"We could use such a lass in the monastery, Father," his fellow monk said in a thoughtful 
tone of voice. "The sisters of the convent probably could find many things for her to do!"

My wrists ached dully from the tightness of the bonds that had been restraining me, and I 
rubbed them briskly to get the blood flowing through them once more. Father James's words 
frightened me, but I said nothing, merely making my way to where Kitty lay, still sobbing 
quietly.

"We shall have to think that over, won't we?" chuckled Father David. He glanced at me for 
a moment, smiling in a wicked, evil manner. "Perhaps we shall meet again soon, little dove," he
told me, then both of them turned and left us.

I cradled Kitty's head in my lap, whispering softly, cooing to her as I rocked her back and 
forth. I was terrified of the monks and the very idea of having to go to the convent filled me 
with dread. I prayed they would forget about me as soon as we were out of sight, and silently, 
I asked God to forgive them and Kitty and I. I did not know what might happen to me next, 
but I could only fear for my very soul as the afternoon sun began to fade.

CHAPTER TWO

How horrible the memory is. How evil and shocking that this was my first, rude and vicious
introduction to the secret world that is hidden from our eyes. Had I known what lay in store 
for me, I might even have taken my own life.

I now was without the familiar feelings I had for men of the cloth. Obviously, their lives 
were not as saintly and pure as they professed.

I helped poor Kitty home, with a full and aching heart.

She begged me never to say what happened to her to anyone, and of course I promised I 
would tell not a living soul. By now, she is surely dead, though, and I can reveal the wicked, 
horrible things that had been done to her.

As for myself that afternoon, I felt shamed and stained with sin, but thankful that they had 
not robbed me of my purity. It was bad enough to endure the horrid act I was forced to 
perform, but at least I was still a virgin. Little did I know that that very fact would cause me 
more pain than I could imagine.

Once Kitty was safely home, my having explained to her mother that we had been playing 
by the stream and fallen in, thereby explaining the condition of our clothing, I made my weary
way back to my parents hut, feeling tired and drained of all emotion.

All I wanted to do was go to sleep and forget about what had happened. I was praying, 
that with time, the event would sink far enough into my memory that it would no longer affect
me. That was all I could hope for. My father was working in the yard, hammering and beating 
on a barrel rung. My mother was in the front of our hut, churning the butter in an absent 
manner As I walked into the yard, I could tell they were tense and worried.

"I am sorry I am late, Mother," I said, meekly, setting the basket I had been carrying down 
at her feet. "I lost track of the time, if you wish to beat me for this, I will accept your 
punishment!"

Instead of a slap across the face, or least some words of anger, my mother shocked me by 
throwing her arms around me and pulling me to her breast. She broke into tears and hugged 
me passionately.

"My poor, poor little girl, my darling, Theresa," she wailed, crying violently, almost 
completely out of control. "You are lost my darling, lost!"

Fear raced up and down my spine like an icy hand. I squirmed out of her grasp and stared 
at her with frightened eyes. "What are you saying, Mother?" I whispered frantically. "What are 
you talking about?"

"Ask your father, ask him what he has done," she moaned, giving my father a look of pure 
hatred. "Ask the monster what he has done with you!"

My father glared at my whimpering mother and spat out in disgust. "Stop this foolishness, 
woman," he growled, shaking his head violently. "We both know it is best for her, the nuns 
and monks will give her a good education! They will keep her away from the greedy hands of 
young men, too! And don't forget the hundred pieces of gold we have gotten for her!"

His words seared my brain as I heard them tumbling from his lips. I could not believe what 
he was saying, but there was no denying the force and seriousness of his words. He had sold 
me to the monks, sold me as if an animal or slave.

"Father, Father, no, no, tell me it is not true," I sobbed, throwing myself at his feet, hugging
my cheek to his legs. "Please, dear God, tell me you have not sold me to them, please, please 
tell me you haven't!"

Roughly my father pushed me away. He glared down at me, shaking his finger as he 
spoke. I could tell in that moment, that I was nothing to him, and it made me feel as if my 
whole life had just been tom from me.

"You will do as I command," he hissed, his voice reminding me of Father David's. "You will 
fare a lot better at the hands of God's servants than in this stinking little village. You should be
jumping with joy, not sobbing so shamefully!" I wanted to scream at him, tell him all that had 
happened to Kitty and I, but I could not. I had promised her I would not speak, and it would 
have made no difference anyway. My father would not have believed me, more over, he would
have beaten me viciously for such blasphemy.

"Now, gather your things, Theresa, and I will take you to the convent at once," he hissed. 
Then he turned on his heel and walked behind the house to ready the small cart and donkey 
we used for travel.

The journey was very long, and it was very late and dark when we finally arrived. I could 
barely move, I was so frightened, and the huge, commanding convent seemed to be alive as 
we approached it.

The walls were fifteen feet high and the gate made of thick, heavy iron. From two twin 
towers that rose above the walls, I could see the flickering candles in the windows, and they 
seemed to be winking at me in anticipation as we approached.

My father rang the bell at the gate and in a few moments a nun appeared, her eyes stern 
and cold. "Who dares to disturb us at this hour?" she growled, fixing her harsh gaze on me, 
then returning it to my father. "What is your business here?"

My father was obviously frightened, too, for he stumbled over his words as he spoke, 
eager to get his delivery of me over with. He waved a hand in my direction, bowing his head 
meekly as he told the sister about me.

"Father James and Father David wished me to bring my little girl to your convent, Sister," 
my father said. "I am grateful that they wish to take over her up-bringing, for I am poor and 
could not do as well by her as you might!"

"Ahh, yes, the Mother Superior explained all this to me," the sister said, her voice not 
growing any softer or warmer. "Well, get her down here, I don't wish to stand out in the cold 
all night long!"

Quickly my father barked for me to climb out of the cart. I felt a strong urge to run, to get 
as far away from there as fast as I could, but I dismissed the idea. It would be foolish. I could 
not get away, they would find me eventually, and even worse danger awaited me in the 
depths of the forest.

There was nothing I could do but get out of the cart and pass through the open gate as 
the sister held it for me. As I walked through the arch of the entrance to the convent, I felt 
everything I had ever known about life leaving me. My past had remained outside of the walls.

My father turned and quickly climbed back into the cart. He did not even bother to tell me
goodbye, he simply slapped the reins and drove off as quickly as the lazy donkey would go. I 
watched him depart for a moment, then felt a finger jabbing in my back insistently.

"Come, come, girl, don't dawdle, you'll learn not to waste time around here," the nun told 
me in a cruel tone of voice. "There are many things you have to learn, and I suggest you learn 
them quickly!"

Once we were inside of the building, I followed the nun down a wide, high ceiled corridor. 
At the far end of the long hall, there were a series of tiny cells and I was shown to one of 
them.

"I am Sister Margaret," the nun told me. I could see her clearly now, and she was younger 
than I had first thought, with a pretty face that could have been very beautiful if it had not 
been marred by her stem features. "You will remain here until I come for you in the morning!"

"Please, Sister Margaret," I said, walking over to where she stood, poised to shut the door 
on my cell. "I have not eaten in hours, could I perhaps have a bit of food, I am very hungry 
after my journey."

Unexpectedly her hand shot out, slapping me hard enough across the cheek to knock me 
off my feet. I groaned and held my burning face, staring up at her in shock and fear.

I had been struck by the nuns who taught me in the small school the church had created 
in my village, but never with such viciousness and force before. I lay there trembling with 
growing fear as she glared down at me.

"You will learn to keep your mouth shut, worthless child," Sister Margaret warned. "You will
eat when we eat, sleep when we sleep and work when we work. Otherwise, you will go 
without, do you understand?"

I nodded quickly, wishing only to be left alone, now. She grunted and turned, slamming 
the door of my cell rudely behind her. I was now left in the pale darkness of the moon 
streaming in through the tiny, square window high above the floor of the cell.

I sighed and crawled over to the small, rope mattress that functioned as a bed and sank 
into it, gratefully. It was not the most comfortable of places to lay one's weary head, but I was 
so exhausted from all that had happened in that day, that I fell asleep quickly enough to 
soothe me.

I was awakened roughly in the morning. Sister Margaret gave me a swift, hard kick in the 
small of my spine and I leaped into consciousness, yelping with pain, confused and frightened 
until I realized once again, where I was.

"Come, we eat," Sister Margaret grunted, giving me another harsh kick. "We do not sleep 
until the sun rises here, worthless one, we are hard workers and our day begins long before 
the dawn."

I followed her back down the wide, high-ceilinged corridor to a huge room that was filled 
with long, bare tables, seated at which were the silent, eating nuns and fathers of the convent 
and monastery.

Just seeing the monks and sisters together gave me pause, for as far back as I could 
remember, I never heard of fathers and nuns dining together, much less sharing the same 
grounds.

This appeared to be a special kind of retreat, and already I was filled with a compelling 
worry and doubt about this place. I caught sight of Father James and Father David and my 
blood went cold, but they paid me no notice as I passed by.

Sister Margaret placed me at a table in a far corner of the room, seating me with the other 
novice nuns, all roughly my age, with a couple of girls a little younger and a little older than I.

Everyone ate in silence and kept their eyes cast downward, avoiding even the hint of 
contact with each other, not to mention the total impossibility of speaking. Quiet and humility
seemed to be the norm, here, and I made no attempt to question any of my table mates at all.

I assumed I would learn soon enough, the things I had to know to exist here, and I did not 
wish to incur the wrath of Sister Margaret or any other nun if I could avoid it in any way.

I was realizing, quickly, that the rules that governed the convent and monastery were strict
and rigid, and I would have to learn each of them very fast, if I wanted to avoid as much 
punishment as possible.

I was a prisoner. No matter how much my father might have gone on and on about what a
valuable opportunity this was for me, about how much I would learn and profit from my 
experience with the nuns; no matter what he might have done to try and convince me of my 
unbelievable luck, I still knew I was a prisoner.

I ate silently, following the lead of the young girls at my table. Whenever I had the chance, 
I would steal a glimpse of them, trying to see what and who they were, and how they had 
been affected by their stay here.

Almost all of them had one thing in common. They all looked afraid. They seemed terribly 
afraid, in fact, as if their every move was being watched closely but the nuns and monks that 
surrounded us.

There was terror in their eyes, clear and crisp, as evident as any emotion I have ever seen 
another person express. I felt it coming off of them, as odors from an unbathed tramp, and it 
infected me, too, with its compelling force.

I shivered as I sat there, not knowing what might happen next. You must remember that I 
was a mere child, only fifteen and in the awesome world of men and women of the cloth. I had
no idea of how to handle myself in such a situation, and being intelligent enough to realize 
that this lack of knowledge could put me in jeopardy made me wisely frightened.

I resolved to say and do nothing other than what I was told. I would listen as closely as I 
could to every word I heard spoken, be it from the lips of monk, nun or novice. I was 
determined to find the way of this life and mold myself to it. For me, it was the only logical 
thing I could do.

Once our meager breakfast was consumed, the nuns and monks went off to their various 
tasks and Sister Margaret came to our table and informed us we were to follow her to the 
room where all the disciplining was done.

Just the mere words were enough to scare me. Discipline. I did not know what we were to 
be shown, or worse, forced to endure, but I dreaded it, no matter what it would turn out to be.

With Sister Margaret was a young priest called Father Dorian. He was tall, slender and 
quite handsome, with soft, warm eyes and cleanly chiseled features. I found myself thinking 
evil thoughts about him and I tried to force them out of my mind as the other girls and I made
our way down the hall behind them.

I was thinking the kinds of things that Kitty always claimed to wonder about a boy and I 
was shocked and ashamed to even consider Father Dorian in that manner. I prayed urgently to
God, that I would cease to have such a wicked mind.

The Disciplining room was a small, almost cell-like chamber. It was filled with shelves, 
stretching from the floor to the ceiling, all packed tightly with books. There was a small row of 
chairs set in a semi-circle around a slightly raised platform.

As we entered the room and seated ourselves, I noticed a nun in the corner of the room, 
seated on a chair by the platform. She was big and old and looked meaner than any bandit I 
had ever seen.

She had to be at least fifty, and her face was etched with cruel, deep lines that spoke of a 
life time of harsh, unrelenting passion to cause pain. That was a great deal of thinking for a 
girl as young as I, but she struck me at once as being exactly as I imagined, and it wasn't very 
long before I found out how true my suspicions were.

Once we were seated, Sister Margaret quickly made her way to the woman and knelt to 
kiss the offered ring. She murmured her thanks and wish to please her and I knew at once that
this was the Mother Superior of the convent.

Father Dorian stood off to one side, nodding his head in respect, looking rather .nervous 
about being in the room with all of us. He tugged at his collar and glanced around the room 
impatiently.

The Mother Superior rose from her chair, groaning as she lifted her massive bulk to her 
feet. Her eyes were ice-cold as she glared at us, and when she noticed me, I could swear she 
peered into my frightened features for a good, solid minute at least.

"You know what this room is used for," she said, suddenly, her voice cutting through the 
thick silence with a cold, nasty manner. "I am sure that whatever you learn in here, you will see
the sense of putting it to use."

With that, she clapped her hands and in seconds, two burly monks were pulling a young 
girl of about my age into the room from a chamber beyond. The girl was struggling vainly, 
gasping with fear as they dragged her toward the center of the platform. My tummy quivered 
with fright as I watched the action above me.

"Please, please, I'm sorry, sorry," the girl moaned, twisting against the iron grip of the two 
monks. "I... I won't do it again... I... I swear I won't!"

The two monks ignored her distress completely. They dragged her to a short, t-shaped 
rack erected in the center of the platform, and quickly tied her arms and legs to the support 
beams on the floor and along the top of the rack.

In moments, she was helpless, her limbs spread wide, her eyes staring frightenedly over 
the top of the cross-bar, pleading with the rest of us to help her. I felt like turning away, but I 
knew I dared not so any such thing.

The Mother Superior grunted as she climbed the three short steps to the platform. The 
slightest movement seemed an effort for her, and she groaned as she set her feet firmly down 
beside the girl.

Almost tenderly she placed her hand on top of the girl's quivering head and smiled at her. 
She girl moaned softly and the Mother Superior turned her gaze back upon the rest of us 
once more.

"Marie has sinfully disobeyed my orders," she began, her voice tight and controlled, almost
emotionless as she spoke. "When I receive my instructions from God, as I always do, then 
transmit them to his subjects, I expect they will be carried out."

She sighed, wearily, as if this was yet another burden she had to bear. "Unfortunately, 
some of you choose to ignore the words I speak to you, as if they come only from me, and not
from our Savior," she hissed, her voice suddenly turning cold.

"This poor creature does not seem to have learned that, as yet," she said, glaring at the 
imprisoned Marie for a brief moment. "We shall have to show her how wrong she is." Then, 
she suddenly hooked her long, gnarled fingers in the neckline of Marie's short shift and tore 
downward, ripping the fragile garment completely from the girl's young body in one swift, 
tug.

The room erupted into the sound and noise of shocked gasping. All of us were staring at 
the platform, and the now exposed body of the girl bound to it. There was no way to tear our 
eyes away now, and the room grew tense with expectation.

"Please, please Blessed Mother," sobbed Marie, her eyes filling with tears at being naked 
and defenseless as she was. "I beg of you, mercy, dear Mother, please! Ohh, God, have mercy 
on me!"

Viciously, the Mother Superior slammed the pleading child across the face. Her lip split 
open and a tiny trickle of blood began to run down one section of her chin. She groaned and 
shuddered with terror.

"Silence, you ungrateful whelp," hissed the Mother Superior. "You did not think of mercy 
when you refused my instructions to service Father Dorian, how dare you call upon our 
Master's mercy after so wickedly disobeying him?"

The girl moaned in despair and I watched with growing horror as the Mother Superior 
took a short handled, evil-looking whip down from the mantle above the fire place. The 
strands of cold, black leather were rough and worn, tattered almost from the many backs they
must have caressed.

"Now, you shall pay for displeasing me and our Lord," the Mother Superior hissed, 
cracking the whip hard against the wood beneath her feet. "Now you shall suffer for your sins 
as well you should. Then, you will do as I instructed!"

"No, ohhh, please, no. Blessed Mother," sobbed the girl, twisting and turning helplessly 
against her bonds. "I beg you, let me do my duty now! I will so, willingly, gladly dear Mother! 
Please, please don't hurt me, I beg you!"

He urgent pleading was stopped short as the ancient woman brought the harsh, cruel 
strands of the whip down hard against her helpless shoulders. The air Filled with the angry, 
wet crack of the whip, followed instantly by her shocked, alarming scream of utter pain and 
terror.

Sweat flew from Marie's forehead as another blow landed at the base of her spine, searing 
her flesh with an unbelievable agony. I could not keep from sobbing myself as I saw Marie's 
whole body reacting violently to the stinging lash.

Her pretty face was contorted in pain, twisted and drawn as a third strike of the brutal lash 
made contact with her buttocks. The pain must have been intense, because the scream that 
was tom from her lips, was louder and more horrifying than any sound I could remember.

The Mother Superior's face was set in a grim, almost smiling mask and it was not difficult 
for me to decide that she was enjoying this action on her part, immensely. She cracked the 
whip against Marie's shoulders once more, and blood flew from her back, hitting the floor in 
tiny, compelling droplets.

Marie's fingers gripped the long, hard wood of the cross-bar she was tied to with such 
fierce power, that her knuckles were a deathly white. She sobbed and wailed in pain as the 
lash fell upon her defenseless body again and again.

Now the Mother Superior was immersing herself in her task. She brought the lash down 
across her shoulders in short, harsh, rhythmic strokes. Each time a blow made contact, she 
allowed the pain to sink in and linger awhile before striking the helpless young girl, again.

She obviously knew exactly what she was doing, and had had much experience with this 
kind of discipline. She never seemed to tire and her careful, measured blows were clearly 
designed to inflict as much pain as possible, without driving the victim into unconsciousness.

I was almost fascinated by her attack. There was a certain cool, calm and hint of control in 
the way she was beating poor Marie. Though her pleasure was evident and her breathing 
becoming erratic and labored with the passion and effort of her task, she seemed to be in 
complete command of her emotions.

"Listen to the whip, hear her cries of pain," she hissed to us as we sat in our hard, 
uncomfortable chairs, shivering with fear and loathing. "See what she has to endure for 
disobedience!"

Though she was facing us, her body mashed tightly against the vertical beam of the rack, 
we could now clearly see the effects the beating was having on Marie's tender, young flesh.

Blood was running in tiny streams down both of her legs, dripping silently into a puddle at
her feet. Her body shuddered uncontrollably with each wicked blow and her lips were 
stretched tight in agony.

Again and again the Mother Superior brought the evil, cruel weapon down upon her 
ripped and torn flesh. The air was a mixture of dank, foul sweat from our frightened bodies, 
and the harsh, unrelenting smack of the lash, striking Marie's bleeding wounds filled our ears 
undeniably.

There was no way to escape the horror we were watching. Even if I had dared to close my 
eyes, the picture would have remained. The sound of the leather caressing her flesh with its 
horrid kiss was unavoidable.

I stared in a mixture of seething anger and churning sickness, while a part of me was 
completely enthralled by the viciousness of the Mother Superior's beating. I have to confess, a
part of me was intrigued by the causing of such pain. I wondered, absently, what it must feel 
like to realize how badly you are hurting someone.

Unceasingly the blows feel, now, faster and more rhythmic, the wicked old woman, 
increasing the force and number of blows she rained down on the poor, weak child. I did not 
know how much more she could endure before fainting, and my heart was beating wildly in 
my chest as I stared intently at what was happening to her.

"Are you ready to obey me now, pig?" hissed the Blessed Mother, pausing between blows 
to whisper in the girl's ear. "Are you ready to accept my instruction unthinkingly, or must we 
continue with your punishment?"

The girl shuddered and moaned, her body quaking violently as the Mother Superior 
quickly cracked the whip against the small of her back once more. Marie wailed in response, 
nodding her head frantically.

"Ohhh, dear God, yes, good Mother, yes," she sobbed, twisting and turning so violently 
against the thongs that bound her, that the leather sliced into her wrists and cut her tender 
flesh. "Anything you command, I will do, anything, I swear it!"

The old woman chuckled in delight, and I was shocked at the expression of mirth on her 
lips. Seeing her smiling, happily, satisfied, so far, with the effects of her beating, made me 
groan, quietly, in terror.

"That is good, little slut," she cooed almost lovingly, her fingers gently patting Marie on 
the cheeks. "You are learning, I am pleased. But let us see if you can do as good a job of 
obeying me, as you claim you wish to."

She nodded to Father Dorian and the young priest shuddered visibly, obviously very 
uncomfortable with the position he was in. He sighed, heavily, and moved around behind the 
girl. Together with the two other monks, standing silently on either end of the platform, they 
turned the rack around until the rest of us were gazing at it sideways.

Even with this narrow view, we could see how much damage the whip had inflicted. The 
poor girl's body, from her shoulders to her mid-thighs, was a mass of welts and open wounds.
There were almost more marks on her flesh, than flesh itself, it seemed, and all of us groaned 
at the sight we saw.

"You will all pay close attention to this," growled the Mother Superior, giving all of us the 
coldest glare yet so far. "Do not feel sorry for this girl, she has only received the punishment 
she deserved!"

She nodded again to Father Dorian and the young man mounted the steps to the platform
and made his way over to the frightened, bound young woman. He gulped, nervously, as he 
stood behind her.

Once again, the Mother Superior glared at us, shaking her head, slightly, in disgust. "It is 
hard to teach you worthless whores about doing God's work," she muttered softly. "You must 
learn that you are here to serve, not to have fun. If you will not obey, you must be punished!"

She turned to Father Dorian and gave him almost the same glaring look she had cast upon
the rest of us. He withered, visibly, under her stare, dropping his eyes to the floor, and I could 
tell at once, how frightened, even he was, of her.

"Do your duty, Father," the Mother Superior growled, nodding her head in one smooth 
and swift determined jerk. "Make it swift, but painful! Perhaps next time she will submit to our 
wishes a little more willingly, if she carries a painful memory back to her cell with her!"

Father Dorian clearly would have rather been somewhere else. He sighed and inched 
forward until he was standing right behind the defenseless girl. He kissed the nape of her 
neck, whispering softly.

"You must relax, dear little Marie," he cooed, his voice full of obvious concern. "This can 
hurt you a great deal, if you do not relax and attempt to accommodate me as well as you 
can!"

I watched, having no idea of course, what he was talking about. I saw his hands dropping 
to Marie's buttocks, her pert, half-moons quivering with the lingering pain of the blows they 
had been dealt.

Marie gasped in pain as Father Dorian began to fondle her soft, ribboned cheeks. As 
gently as he could, he squeezed and massaged the tender, damaged buns, riding his fingers 
up and down along the tight cleft between her moist mounds.

She stiffened as she felt a finger twisting and pressing around the entrance to her bum, 
and she groaned as he tried to force the digit inside of her pit. I strained to see what he was 
doing, a part of me feeling more and more stimulated as every moment ticked relentlessly by.

I did not understand what he was doing to her, but her eyes were growing wide with fear 
and I could tell that Marie was dreading what was going to happen to her. She groaned 
thickly and I could see her desperately trying to relax under the insistent probing of Father 
Dorian's narrow digit.

As tenderly as he could, the young cleric wedged his finger up into the tight, unyielding 
tunnel of Marie's anal chamber. I watched as he grunted, forcing more of his prong inside of 
her, and I saw her face contorted in pain.

Deeper and deeper he shoved the finger up inside of her bum. She sobbed in agony, her 
forehead once again growing damp with the sweat of her pain. She gasped as he pushed his 
finger completely inside of her, now burying it to the hilt in her tiny, damp asshole canal.

He pumped the digit in and out of her bum in a slow, careful manner. Each stroke he took,
he twisted and rolled the finger along her tight, hot track, obviously trying to widen the 
narrow passage as much as he could.

As he rode his finger in and out of poor Marie's bum, I began to realize what he was about
to do. I had no illusions, by then, that he was any more chaste than Father James or Father 
David had been, but I was not prepared for the idea that he would be putting his organ in her 
bottom.

The idea was so shocking and frightening, that I could hardly breathe as I saw the young 
priest's face now changing from a look of resigned distaste to growing anticipation and 
delight.

Poor Marie shivered and groaned, shaking her damp, quivering head frantically. "Any way 
but this, Father, please, any way but this," she moaned, trying to turn her head and confront 
the busy, young priest. "I... I am too small, there, Father, much too small!"

The Mother Superior gripped her chin tightly in her fingers and brutally yanked her head 
around to face her. "Silence little peasant slut," she growled. "You are lucky you don't get a 
burning iron up there, instead of being fortunate enough to complete the task I gave you 
before!"

She pinched Marie's chin brutally between her fingers, making the girl wince in pain. "You 
deserve worse than you are getting, ungrateful whelp!" she barked in anger. "Now try and 
help your Master out instead of fighting him!"

Poor Marie screamed in terror as she felt the young priest's finger suddenly leave her bum.
She sobbed now as he spread the folds of his robe and drew his long, thick tool from behind 
them.

I watched in amazement as he brought the thick, knobby tip of his shaft near to Marie's 
quivering buttocks. He was breathing rapidly now, and I could see the veins pulsating violently
in his shaft as he spread her cheeks and placed the thick, hard head of it between them.

I could not believe he was actually going to try and put that huge thing into the narrow 
tunnel of Marie's asshole. It seemed an impossible fit, to my eyes, and I was sure that he 
would tear her bottom to ribbons if he tried to force his cock inside of her tight chamber.

Marie screamed in agony as he pushed forward, shoving the head of his cock beyond her 
damp, taut entrance. Her whole body seemed to erupt with the pain she was experiencing, 
and when he grunted and drove forward once more, she bucked with agony, mashing her 
body tight against the beam in front of her.

"Deep, Father, deep," whispered the Mother Superior, leaning forward for a better view of 
his progress, obviously mesmerized by what he was doing. "Deep in her bowels, Father, put 
yourself deep inside her, yes!"

Father Dorian no longer looked nervous or unwilling. His face was twisted with the effort 
of his attack, but he was clearly enjoying it now. His hands went round the front of Marie's 
body, clasping greedily over her small, pert breasts.

She sobbed and shuddered as he bucked forward yet again, driving almost all of the huge,
throbbing prong into her tight, wet bum. I could hear the wet, slippery sound of flesh riding 
over flesh, and it made my loins tingle with a dull, insistent ache as I followed his relentless 
assault.

Finally he buried his shaft to the hilt in her asshole, and his belly was mashed firmly against
the smooth curve of her tender buttocks. His fingers kneaded and caressed her breasts, 
pinching the tiny, rosy nipples between them.

"Umm, my sweet, warm little child," Father Dorian cooed, his lips running lightly back and 
forth over her trembling neck. "You are sq warm and tight, my dear, exactly as it should be! 
Ahhh, you will serve me well, yes, very well indeed!"

Now, Father Dorian began to pump the huge, hard spear in and out of Marie's defenseless
bottom. He slithered his prick back out of her, twisting and turning as he withdrew, then drove
it hard and fast back along her tight, gripping passage once more.

She wailed in agony, almost slumping against the bonds that held her now. It was clear to 
me that she was half out of her mind with pain, and every harsh, violent tremor that shook her
flesh made me feel weak and trembling just to watch her.

Never before had I seen such cold brutality. Even the rape of my friend Kitty, and the act I 
had been forced to perform had not compared with this. The sheer force and cruelty of this 
assault was almost more than my young mind could bear to accept.

I was clearly stimulated now, rubbing my thighs back and forth in the absent manner I had
used while watching my friend's rape. I shuddered minutely as I watched Father Dorian 
relentlessly driving his manhood into the helpless girl. I moaned as the cock sank deep into 
her bum once more.

He was putting more and more effort into the assault, moaning and gasping with 
undeniable pleasure with each vicious stroke that he took. Her body quivered wildly as he 
rammed into her again, and I could see the blood welling up around his shaft as he tore her 
inner walls, unceasingly, with his driving tool.

He shuddered and groaned, driving into her bottom powerfully now, clearly enveloped by 
nothing but his own pleasure, now. His fingers pinched and tugged at Marie's jiggling globes, 
squeezing them hungrily in his slender hands.

He powered his prick along her taut, ripped inner canal, grinding his belly hard against her
ass as he powered his shaft into her again and again. She was almost unconscious with the 
pain now, her eyes glazed and distant, yet her flesh still reacting with agony to his every 
plunge.

My own young loins were on fire with wicked lust, burning with the delight I could not 
seem to ignore. I felt weak and ashamed, but I placed my hand carefully in my lap as I 
watched them closely, and began to knead and caress my mound through the coarse material
of my shift.

Harder and faster Father Dorian began to pump his massive spear into the tiny passage of 
Marie's asshole. He groaned in delight, driving it viciously to the depths of her aching tunnel, 
his fingers squeezing her boobs, brutally.

"Ahhh, it's so good, little one, so good," he moaned, shuddering uncontrollably as his 
obvious delight rippled through him. "Yes, yes, I am going to climax little Marie, going to 
climax in the depths of your behind at any moment!"

Hearing that made my own womb throb so intensely, that I could barely keep from crying 
out in anxious wanting. I rubbed furiously at my crotch, feeling the warm, enticing waves roll 
over my loins, deliciously.

Suddenly Father Dorian was thrashing violently against poor Marie. He rammed his cock in
and out of her asshole so powerfully and so viciously, that the poor child could do nothing 
more but endure the cruel, plunging strokes that he was taking.

He moaned in distinct pleasure and thrust into her once more, burying his shaft to the hilt 
in her bum, holding onto her breasts tightly as the orgasm tore through his loins. She 
quivered with the throbbing release of his cock pounding in her bottom, almost as if her body
was jerking with every spurt of his climax.

My own loins erupted at that point and I too, shivered involuntarily as the lovely, aching 
relief spread through me. I was silently thankful that everyone else was watching poor Marie 
and Father Dorian and paid no notice of me.

The room was now thick and dank with a mixture of sweat and passion and it tingled in 
my nostrils as I suffered the final spasms of pleasure I so greedily wanted and watched Father 
Dorian in the throes of his own exquisite agony.

Finally my throbbing womb subsided into a dull, lingering ache and Father Dorian quickly 
withdrew from Marie's damaged anal tunnel, adjusting his cassock nervously, his complete 
pleasure once more overshadowed with embarrassment and worry.

Poor Marie seemed to have fallen into a state of only semi-consciousness now, and as the 
two assistant monks freed her from her bonds, they had to hold her upright, lest she slide to 
the floor in exhaustion and pain.

They carried her out of the tiny room and shut the door behind them. Father Dorian had 
resumed his place beside the platform, leaving only the Mother Superior up on the small 
stage, by then.

She cast her eyes out and across where we sat, fixing a glare it seemed on each of us in 
turn. She seemed more Fiery and energetic than ever before and I shook with fear and worry 
as she gazed at us.

"Now you can see what might happen to you, should you attempt to defy the servants of 
our Savior," she snarled, clearly intending to scare us all. "Remember what you have seen, 
remember the cries of pain and the blood! Remember it all, little peasant whores, you are here
to learn to be good servants of the Lord, and you must obey, you must!"

I remembered. I remembered all my life. I believe it might have been just that moment in 
time when I saw my future laid out for me. I realized, perhaps without knowing, that I had 
fallen into a strange and special world, to which, it seemed, I truly belonged.

Even now I can remember the sticky warmth that coated my thighs as we stood up from 
our chairs to leave the Disciplining room. I can very nearly feel the lingering pleasure, the 
rippling warmth that I carried with me almost all that day long.

I was frightened, yes, terrified for my body and my soul. But, I made a connection, I had 
felt certain things that only later would I understand. Then, I was merely content with not 
having been a victim of such horror. Little did I know that my turn would come soon, and even
more important, the secret joys I would indulge in, once I allowed myself to sink completely 
into the sin and perversion that surrounded me.

Ahh, but I grow weak. The sun has faded and my eyes can hardly see the paper beneath 
my withered hands. The writing is getting jagged and forced, I must rest. I must rest and 
regain my strength, for this manuscript must be completed no matter what. For it is my only 
salvation, the only barrier between myself and the burning hell I shall be cast into once I go to
meet our Savior.

Only putting this tale to paper will keep me from eternal damnation. I must finish this, I 
must! Ohh, God, as I write these final words tonight, give me the strength to continue, I beg of
you, give me the strength!

CHAPTER THREE

This morning my spies told me the Pope has ordered an investigation into my mental 
state. I know what this means. If I can be judged to be unfit to take care of myself and my 
duties, they will lock me away in the mad house.

My enemies drool over such a prospect. How easy it would be to silence me behind the 
dark, looming walls of such a place. Once I am shut away behind the cold, hard stone, I will 
cease to exist.

But I am too clever. There is too much life left in these old bones for that. I am going to 
die, soon, I am well aware of that fact. But it will not be at the hands and the profit of those 
that should be exposed!

How foolish they must think I have become. How much an old, dottering woman I must 
appear to be to them. I cherish that image in their minds. I thrill to the secret that they do not 
know. I have carefully planted the thoughts that I am weak, old and stupid, now. They are 
much less on their guards these days, and I chuckle each time l know they think they are 
aware of things that I am not.

Do they not understand that for years I have nurtured my spies, dealt with them gently, 
helped them in a thousand different ways? How can they be so foolish to think that while my 
reputation for viciousness and brutality is second to none, I would not have spared a few my 
wrath, just to bind them to me forever?

But that is unimportant, merely the smug raving of an old woman about to die, gloating 
over her victories. It is unseemly and more than that, a lie. My victories are meager and dark, I 
am not proud of them at all.

What is important is my story. How I came to be this way and all that I saw and heard in 
my time. It comes back to me now, clear and vivid, with no need to search my mind for 
memory at all. There are some things that are burned into your brain like white-hot irons 
branding flesh, and my history is just that real to me.

For a few weeks after the incident involving Marie and Father Dorian, I saw little of the 
Mother Superior. She had her duties and her own little games to play and we novices were left
alone by her for the most part.

We toiled in the fields and gardens, sweating under the harsh, unrelenting glare of the sun,
working harder than any of us could remember. The routine was harsh and strict and there 
was little time for rest.

Each morning we awoke at four, driven from our beds by one of the Sisters. They brooked 
little laziness on our parts, and even I, in my frantic desire not to do anything wrong, often 
suffered under the swift kicks that I received for being a little too slow on certain mornings.

We breakfasted fast, then were out at our tasks before the sun had even peeked over the 
horizon. Our luncheon meal was a twist of dried meat and a hunk of bread, which we had to 
grab before leaving the dining hall.

If you missed this, you did not eat until the evening, and if you were too ill to work, you 
did not leave your cell for a meal until you were well. This was a perfect way to keep us in line, 
and few ever begged off from their work, no matter how terrible they felt.

We worked, each day, until the sun dropped behind the trees and the earth was blanketed 
in its darkness. Then we would drag our weary bodies back to the convent and try and force 
the evening meal .down our uninterested throats.

Never had my back ached before with such throbbing, unceasing agony. Never had my 
hands and knees become so calloused and torn from harsh, difficult work. Before very long, 
my once pink and smooth fingers and palms were rough and hard and ugly to my eyes. My 
knees, once perfect and unscared, were now tom and welted from hours of kneeling over 
stone or rough earth.

I would weep in the privacy of my tiny cell, wondering how I could ever interest a man 
again. My hands would never be soft to the touch and my legs would not capture a males 
eyes again, I feared.

I felt as if I were a beast of burden, totally unthought about except in the amount of work 
that could be gotten out of me. We were told we were in training to become nuns, but I 
learned almost nothing of the ways of the sisters. I only worked.

As the weeks drifted by, I became more lean and hard. My once attractive, but weak thighs
grew firm and tight and my hands gained more strength than I ever would have imagined. 
Soon, my back bothered me less and less, and I found I was not nearly as tired at the end of 
the day, as I had been in the beginning.

The other girls appeared to vary in the degree of adapting to their environment. The older 
novices were obviously much more used to this way of life, and they often took the time to 
harass us, much the same as the nuns did.

One of the older girls, an eighteen-year-old named Leah, seemed to center her 
experiments upon me. She always sought me out for her special attacks, carefully finding 
some fault with my work or the way I conducted myself.

I was aware of her singling me out, and I took special pains to conduct myself as correctly 
as possible, and do as good a job, if not better, than any of the others. I constantly had my 
eye on her and could very nearly predict when she would lash into me. , At first, it was a minor
annoyance, something more that I had to endure in this evil place, and I dealt with it as such. 
But, as time went on and her attacks grew more and more frequent, I felt the burden of her 
attention growing too strong.

I did not wish to involve myself in any trouble, but I could not allow her to continue 
picking on me. Already the other girls avoided me as much as they could, and I knew the 
other older novices would soon be joining her in her harassment if I did not put a stop to it.

I had grown so strong in the last few weeks, much stronger than I ever let on, that a 
certain courage had invaded my soul in that time. It was a strange manner of feeling that I was
not used to, but I found myself unafraid of Leah personally, only of the trouble she could lead 
me into.

But trouble would come, one way or the other, so I resolved to end her taunting at the first
opportunity. It came the very morning I made that decision. We were far into the fields, almost
on our own, and I knew my chance had come.

Of course, this feeling was indicated by the quickness of her attack on me. From the 
moment we reached the place of our work, Leah was at me. Her security told me clearly 
enough that the time was ripe, for she would not have started, had a nun been around to see 
what she did.

I listened to her yelling at me for awhile, giving her the impression that I dared not 
respond. I wanted her to feel smug and powerful in her position, for I felt it was the best way 
to bring her down.

"You lazy slut," she growled, kicking a bit of dirt into my face with her foot. "You work like a
fat pig, bitch! I have a good mind to give you a sound beating for your laziness, you mar the 
work the rest of us are doing!"

Listening carefully to her voice, I decided the time was at hand. I stood up, slowly, and 
peered intently into her eyes. My hands were at my sides, open and loose, yet poised to be 
drawn into fists at any second.

"If you do not like my work, Leah," I said calmly, keeping my voice soft and controlled. 
"Why don't you complain to one of the sisters about it, as you have informed on so many of 
us in the past?"

"What... what did you say?" Leah gasped, her shocked response echoing the soft alarm of 
the rest of the girls. "What did you say to me?"

I laughed, my tone of voice nasty and scornful. "And as for your beating me," I added, 
ignoring her startled response to my previous remarks. "I truly wish you would attempt to take
that burden upon yourself!"

"How... how dare you speak to me that way?" she sputtered, quivering with rage, but also 
a hint of fear, for her careful mask was being exposed for the cowardice it concealed beneath 
it.

I did not reply with my lips. I smashed a fist into her face and listened with pleasure to the 
crack of her nose breaking. Leah fell to the earth as if a crumpled ball and I was instantly upon
her.

I pinned her shoulders to the ground with my knees and methodically punched her 
helpless face again and again, until her lips were tom and her eyes swollen shut. She struggled
helplessly, screaming in terror as I struck her, but no one, not even one of the older novices, 
came to her aid.

"That should give you a warning not to toy with me again," I said as I stood up once more, 
leaving the battered, frightened girl on the ground. "I want to hear nothing more from your 
lips, Leah, or you will get worse the next time around!"

Naturally, the rest of the afternoon I was left in peace. But I feared what would happen in 
the evening, for I was sure Leah would run to one of the sisters and tell the whole story, giving
herself the best of it, once we returned from the fields.

The rest of the girls must have sensed this also, for they shied away from me for the 
remainder of the day, as if afraid to be contaminated with whatever fate befell me as a result 
of my actions.

I too was frightened, much, much more than I dared let on. I did my best to act as if I had 
not a care in the world, though I was churning with worry inside. Since I had decided to fight 
for my dignity, I knew that to worry aloud at the price I would have to pay, would only ruin all 
that I had accomplished.

I sat through dinner in tense anticipation. I ate little, for if I was to receive a terrible 
beating, I did not wish to have a full stomach when the first blow fell. By the end of the meal, ! 
was so scared that I prayed they would deal with me soon, so that I could end my dark, 
quivering dread.

They came for me a few minutes after I had been returned to my cell. I was waiting for 
them, of course, and when the grim features of Sister Margaret fixed their glare upon me, I 
knew exactly why she was there. She said nothing, merely jerked her head and I rose from my 
mat and followed her down the hall to the discipling room. I was trembling with terror as I was
led into the little chamber beyond the room.

I was left alone for a moment, waiting with a quivering heart, then the door to the room 
swung open and Sister Margaret beckoned me with her long, gnarled fingers. I entered the 
room and did not wait to be told to go to the rack.

I was determined to bear my punishment with honor and fierce dignity and I quickly made
my way to the t-shaped bar, though my legs felt weak and listless and I had to force myself to 
move them.

The Mother Superior was watching intently as I walked to the bar and I could see a slight, 
quizzical look come into her eyes as she saw me make my determined way to the place were I 
would be punished.

Quickly Sister Margaret tied my wrists and ankles to the harsh, rough beams and 
unfastened the thongs at the back of my shift, spreading the folds of my garment wide. I felt 
the sudden coolness of the night air caress my now naked flesh and I was unable to stifle the 
groan that rose in my throat.

"You have done a wicked thing, Theresa," the Mother Superior said, her voice quiet and 
calm, almost tender in a way. "You have savagely beaten another novice, is that what you have
learned while staying with us?"

"No, Blessed Mother," I replied, shaking my head determinedly. "And, I will accept my 
punishment for my sins! But I will not suffer abuse under the hands of another novice, 
especially not one as self-centered and mean-tempered as Leah!"

The room filled with the sound of the other girls gasping in shock and horror. They 
watched as the Mother Superior's eyes narrowed to harsh, cold slits, glaring at them for a 
moment, then coming back to me in anger.

"You dare to speak so disrespectfully in my presence," she growled, her cold, deathly voice 
ringing and echoing off the walls. "You have much to learn, little peasant, much to learn, 
indeed!"

I felt like bursting into tears, begging her forgiveness and pleading to be released from the
torment to come, but I did not. I was determined to make my position clear and unflinching. 
No matter what was to come, I steeled myself to it, for the flicker I had seen in the Mother 
Superior's eyes was enough to tell me this was the correct way to handle myself, no matter 
how she spoke to me.

"I shall have to beat you, little Theresa," the old woman sighed, sounding for all the world 
as if she did not want to do this. "Your body is so young and tender, it is a shame, but such 
actions can not be dealt with in any other manner!"

With that, she took down the whip from the mantle and I turned my head to the front, 
staring defiantly into the eyes of the girls seated before me. I drew in a breath and listened for
the sound of the whip slicing through the air.

It came in a rush, followed at once with the loud, echoing crack that filled my ears the 
moment the lash met my flesh and my back exploded in a searing agony. I grit my teeth, 
clenching them against the scream that was welling up in my throat.

I gasped and once again the Mother Superior brought the harsh, cruel lash down upon 
me, driving the strands of the whip hard against my naked, trembling buttocks. The pain was 
so intense, I could actually feel the sweat leaping from my flesh in response to the stinging 
blow.

I held my cry, however, now, more determined than ever, not to scream if I could avoid it 
in any way. The Mother Superior cracked the whip against the small of my back and I was 
thrust forward with the shock and force of the blow, a thin, high-pitched yelp escaping my 
lips.

I moaned, shuddered and drew erect and rigid once again, just in time to receive yet 
another blow on the shoulders. I could feel the whip cutting into my flesh, searing me to the 
bones, opening wounds in my helpless frame.

The warm, sticky sensation of my own blood seeping from the cuts made me ill and dizzy, 
but I swallowed my sickness, thanking myself for the intelligence I had had in not eating very 
much at dinner.

Clearly, the Mother Superior was disturbed at my reactions to her beating. I was not 
screaming and begging, and I could tell she did not like that at all. She brought the whip 
down upon my shoulders and buttocks a half a dozen times more, not pausing between a 
single stroke.

The pain of each blow mingled with that of the next, and soon there was not a single 
second without agony for me. I sobbed a little, unable to keep the tears from forming in my 
eyes, but I continued to keep from screaming, in spite of the awful agony I was enduring.

Harder and harder the Mother Superior beat me. My eyes misted over with a harsh, 
blinding redness, and my temples throbbed powerfully as I fought the desire to cry out and 
plead with her to stop.

Subtlely, almost without my noticing it, I began to thrust my body back to meet the blows 
she rained down upon it. I did not truly understand my own reactions, but I could clearly see 
through the layers of agony I was suffering, a glimmer of a strange enjoyment each time my 
flesh was tom by the cruel instrument.

I gasped as yet another blow exploded with fierce power against my buttocks. I 
shuddered, unable to believe the warmth I was beginning to experience in my loins and the 
dampness that was all too apparent down there.

Yes, yes, I liked it. Once I slipped into accepting the pain, I found it to be pleasing, to be 
almost thrilling. No longer was it mere agony, but now, now it had dissolved and mingled with
the pleasure I could not deny in my loins, and it was becoming increasingly impossible to tell 
where delight left off and suffering began.

Harder and faster the Mother Superior rained the blows against my defenseless body. I 
bucked and jerked beneath the vicious attack, but I was not turning away from her now, and I 
knew the others could clearly see that.

"Punish me, Blessed Mother," I cried, suddenly, thrusting my buttocks out eagerly for a 
stinging blow. "Teach me, dear Mother! Show me the errors of my ways! Ohh, God, I deserve 
this, I do, I do!"

Everyone was buzzing in the room now, unable to remain silent as they watched my 
beating and my reactions to it. The Mother Superior struck me again and again, each blow 
harder than the last, each vicious cut of the whip opening up more flesh, raising more welts 
and making my flesh with the ribbons of her attack.

My mind was swirling in a sea of intense pleasure and pain completely unlike anything I 
had ever known. It was as if I had suddenly learned a deep, dark secret about myself that 
terrified and thrilled me at the same time.

I sobbed in delight, shivering uncontrollably as the pain took total control of me and I 
began to grow faint from the sheer agony I was experiencing and the exhaustion the beating 
was giving me.

The light from the candles danced and shimmered in front of my eyes, and the sounds 
that were roaring in the room grew faint and distance. I yielded completely to the Mother 
Superior's cruel and unrelenting attack, and then everything darkened and got silent as my 
mind slipped away from me.

When I became conscious again, I was lying on my belly on the softest bed I had ever 
known. My back throbbed incessantly, from the backs of my knees to the edge of my 
shoulders. But through the pain, came a soothing, cool sensation that was gradually taking 
the hurt from my poor, damaged flesh.

I opened my eyes and when they cleared and were focused at last, I knew at once that I 
was in the private chambers of the Mother Superior's room. The air was sweet with the odor 
of flowers and incense, and the feeling of warmth and comfortability surrounded me at once.

I turned my head to see the Mother Superior sitting in a chair beside me, diligently 
sponging down my poor, tom flesh with a cloth she dipped into a pan of cool, refreshing 
water. I winced as she dabbed at my flesh and she sighed, wearily.

"Poor little dove," she cooed, gently cleaning my wounds. "Poor little girl, you must be still 
so that I can finish attending to you."

"Ohh, Mother, Blessed Mother," I groaned, trying to rise on my forearms. "You can not do 
this, I do not deserve your kindness!"

The old woman laughed softly and pressed gently on my shoulders to keep me from 
getting up. "Now, now, little Theresa, do not be so continually headstrong, I beg of you," she 
chuckled kindly. "You have to learn to trust and obey me, how else am I to help you, dear?"

I moaned and nodded, sinking back down on the bed once more. I had had no intention 
of truly trying to get up, unless she had let me, I had merely wanted to show her the respect I 
knew she desired.

I realized at once that this was a rare and unusual thing she was doing, and I knew that I 
had to act correctly, if I wanted to profit from it. I lay calmly while she completed cleaning and 
dressing my wounds, allowing her to do as she wished.

She was dressed in a night robe, her bust threatening to burst the seams of the garment. 
Her squat, almost square body strained at the tight outfit and even the sight of her repelled 
me, though I kept my feelings hidden deep inside.

When she was finished with my back, she put the towels and pan aside and resumed her 
place on the chair beside the bed, her hands now gently caressing my flesh in a lazy, almost 
absent manner.

"I have a special feeling for you, little Theresa," she whispered, her voice almost trembling, 
sounding less strong and in control than usual. "Yes. very, very special feelings do I have for 
you, my little, precious flower!"

I moaned as I felt her hand riding over my buttocks, squeezing them tenderly, then gently 
working its way up and down along the length of my bruised thigh. I shuddered as a pleasing 
tremor rippled through my loins and I heard her cackling, almost in delight at my reaction to 
her caress.

"Ahh, dear, Blessed Mother, I can not thank you enough for your kindness," I moaned, 
shivering as yet another delicious tremor tore through me. "You are so good and decent, you 
do so much for me, how can I ever repay you?"

"Little Theresa, my little darling," she murmured, suddenly lowering her head to the pillow 
next to mine. "So many things you do not understand! So much that I can teach you!

Why, you know nothing of love, now do you: I lowered my eyes in embarrassment and 
shook my head on the pillow. "If you mean the things that men and women do, Blessed 
Mother, you are correct, I know very little," I admitted. "I always try to keep such thoughts 
from my mind!"

Her free hand had slipped beneath my body, now, and was squirming up and over my 
breasts, the fingers closing hungrily around my small, soft mounds. I shuddered and groaned 
as she squeezed my tiny globe, pinching my nipple between her thumb and forefinger in a 
teasing fashion.

"Yes, that is good, but there are many things that may be done," the Mother Superior said, 
inching her head closer to mine on the pillow. "Many ways a girl might please the servants of 
God! If you are very good, I might teach them to you!"

Her lips were now a mere inch from mine, quivering with excitement, wet and ugly in their 
thinness. I could not bear the sight of them, but I did not close my eyes. I nodded and 
groaned in anticipation.

"Ohhh, dear, dear Mother, please teach me, please," I moaned, shivering as I felt her 
fingers slithering over my inner thigh, creating a warm, pleasing pulsation in my loins. "I want 
so to please you, so much to learn! I will do anything, Blessed Mother, anything you instruct!"

Now her mouth covered mine and her tongue slid back and forth my tightly clenched 
teeth. I gasped in shock and had to force myself to respond to the kiss. I felt her tongue 
greedily stabbing at my teeth and I realized I had to part them.

I allowed her access to my mouth and instantly her tongue wrapped itself around my own 
and she was kissing me more deeply and fully than anyone else in my life. I felt her thin, wet 
petals roaming hungrily over my own and I shuddered in disgust and not a little shame as I 
returned her passionate kiss.

I felt her fingers creeping along the trembling flesh of my womb, trying hard to dig down 
beneath me. I turned a bit, giving her more room to maneuver, and I opened my thighs a 
little, offering my womb to her frenzied attack.

The Mother Superior's breathing was becoming rapid and fierce. I could feel the heat of it 
on my cheeks as she kissed me and I could not deny the teasing pleasure I was experiencing 
under her caressing digits.

"You must do exactly what I do, child," she whispered hotly, her voice cracked and strained
with the passion that was seething in her now.

"Everything I do to you, you must do to me! That way, we shall both enjoy the pleasure 
God has given us the power to create!"

I groaned, realizing that I would have to respond to this strange and sickening event if I 
ever wanted to survive in this place. I had wanted to make a strong contact with her, and now 
was my chance.

My hands were trembling as I reached out and parted the folds to her robe. The garment 
came free in a moment and her ugly, fat body was finally revealed to my eyes. Her huge 
breasts drooped pathetically and her belly was a huge, roll of fat. Her legs were twice as wide 
as my own and looked more like pale tree stumps than human limbs.

I wanted to vomit but instead, I reached with my fingers and hesitantly cupped one hand 
over one huge, fat breast. She moaned in pleasure as I closed my tiny fingers around the 
massive globe. Her thick nipple grew erect at once and dug into the flesh of my palm with a 
harsh insistence.

For two women to be touching and fondling each other in such a manner, seemed to be 
more sinful to me than anything I could dream of. The idea that one of them was the Mother 
Superior of the convent, only strengthened my decision that I had fallen into a hell on earth.

The only thing that could save me now, was to do as she desired, no matter what I felt 
about it. I ground my mouth hard against her own and placed my free hand over her belly, 
inching my fingers down to the coarse, thick thatch of gray hair that covered her throbbing 
mound.

She groaned in delight, bucking her loins hard against my fingers, slowly, now climbing up
on the bed next to me. My hand was wedged between her ham-like thighs, and a warm, sticky
fluid was coating my fingers as I caressed her quaking hillock.

It was obvious to me that she had some manner in which we were to please each other, 
bodily. I did not know what it might be, but I could only pray it would not too horrible to 
submit to.

Undeniably I was experiencing pleasure at her touch. The rolling, enticing waves that 
rippled through my womb were so overpowering, that I had even forgotten about the dull 
ache in my flesh from the beating I had taken.

I sighed in pleasure and trembled spasmodically as I felt her urgent fingers toying with the
petals that guarded the entrance to my loins. "Ohhh, dear Mother, ummm, that is nice," I 
whispered happily.

She chuckled, pinching my pussy lips between her thumb and forefinger in a playful 
manner. "Ahh, you like this my dove," she cooed lovingly. "There is more, much more, I assure 
you!"

Her mouth began to travel down over my neck, kissing me tenderly, while her fingers 
continued to dance and toy with my quivering flesh. I gasped as I felt her eager lips riding 
over my breasts, kissing and lathering my tiny globes with increasing desire and need.

Tenderly she captured one of my tiny nipples between her teeth and she gathered my 
breast into her mouth. I moaned in delight as she sucked on my mound, lathering the 
imprisoned button with her long, rough tongue.

Ahh, the first delight of another woman's love. I shall never forget it. Even as much as I 
hated her, and could not stand the sight of her, I could not help the powerful, demanding 
need that was churning in my loins.

I gasped as she left my breasts and began to kiss and lick her way down along my flesh 
once more. I moaned as a harsh, almost painful spasm shook my womb and before I realized 
it, I was on my back, wincing with the soreness of my wounds, but thrilling completely to her 
hungry assault on my flesh.

J felt her mouth ride over my belly and I giggled childishly as she stabbed at my navel with
the tip of her tongue. Her mouth moved swiftly over my belly and her teeth nipped teasingly 
at the sparse tufts of hair that covered my pubic mound.

Now, my hands were kneading and caressing her fat, ugly body with increasing demand 
and passion. I was so enraptured by the sensations I was experiencing under her eager mouth,
that I barely took notice of the horridness of her body any longer.

I squeezed and kneaded her huge breasts, rolling her nipples back and forth, until she was 
jerking and quaking uncontrollably from my caresses, shifting and turning her body around 
until she had her loins near my head.

Her own mouth, hungry and greedy, swiftly ran over the rim of my hillock, her tongue 
slithering wickedly through my hair to the quivering lips of my womb. I gasped in shock at the
intensity of the sensation I experienced from her actions, and I bucked my loins involuntarily 
against her willing mouth.

"Ohhh, dear God, Blessed Mother, dear God," I sobbed, my voice strangled with the 
passion I was feeling for her now. "That... that is more than I can bear!"

She laughed, her voice hollow and deep, enough to frighten me almost as much as her 
rage. She slithered her tongue along the cleft of my loins, riding it gently between them, each 
delightful lick sending fiery bursts of pleasure racing along my tortured inner flesh.

I felt her snapping her dart at the small, strange button that twitched above my womb 
opening and I cried out in delight as a shocking ache tore through me. I did not know that 
this was the function of that little knob, and when she caught it between her teeth, I thought I 
might die of the pleasure that I felt because of it.

Hungrily she sucked on my nugget, rolling it back and forth between her teeth, lathering it
with the tip of her rough, eager tongue. I ground my womb hard against her mouth, and 
eagerly began to tug at her massive bulk, trying to draw her ancient loins to my willing lips.

Gladly she thrust her crotch to my mouth, parting her thighs to allow my head to slip 
between them. I could smell the dank, unwashed womanliness of her and it made my belly 
lurch, but I dove forward nonetheless.

I rode my tongue through the layers of fat that covered her belly and found the hot, wet 
mound between her thighs. She jerked involuntarily as I ran my tongue over the steaming 
hillock, licking and stabbing frantically.

"Ahh, now you understand, sweet dove," she groaned, shuddering under the force and 
demand of her loins tearing through her. "That's it, little Theresa, ahh, yes, that is it! I am your 
meal, my darling, eat me now, eat me now!"

Her own tongue suddenly slithered between my quivering womb lips and sank swiftly to 
the depths of my loins until it was tapping urgently against my maidenhead. I cried out in 
response, a powerful pleasure surging in me more wildly than all that had gone before.

I gasped and shuddered, my thighs dosing against her head, trapping it between them as I
thrust my loins against her working lips and dancing tongue. I sighed in almost complete 
contentment as she lathered the taut, wet walls of my aching tunnel, the pleasure almost too 
much to stand.

Never had I felt such awesome greed. I buried my head between her fat, clammy legs and 
drove my tongue hard against the swollen petals that protected her old and almost dried out 
cave.

Hungrily I ran my tongue over the rim of her pit, searching frantically for that button that 
she had so joyously pleasured on my own throbbing mound. I found it at last and locked my 
teeth around it, creating a violent, seething pleasure in her tortured tunnel as I sucked 
greedily on the imprisoned nub.

Now the two of us were locked tightly together by passion. She steadily pumped her 
tongue in and out of my tight, virginal passage, lathering every inch of my damp, throbbing 
tunnel with the probing spear.

I licked and sucked on her mound, driving my tongue beyond her wet, reeking entrance, 
rolling and turning my tiny arrow until I had it buried deep inside of her pit and I was sucking 
passionately on the steaming chamber.

The pleasure was almost all consuming. I forgot everything but the feelings and the lust I 
had. I could think of nothing now, but what she was doing to me, and what I must do to her.

I powered my tongue in and out of her womb with as much rhythm and force as I could 
develop. I had no idea if I was doing any of this correctly, I could only judge her reactions and 
go from there.

She seemed completely enraptured with my attack, for she drove her mouth hard at my 
loins in response, pumping her tongue in and out of me with more control and calm, 
kneading and squeezing my buttocks in her big, thick fingers.

Both of us thrashed about the bed so violently, now, that I feared we might roll off the 
comfortable mattress and onto the floor. I locked my teeth around her petals, as I felt her 
doing with mine, and tried to match her rhythmic strokes with my own.

Soon, there was nothing but the pleasure for either of us. We attacked each other's womb 
with an abandon that made me light-headed and weak. I sobbed and shuddered 
uncontrollably, totally in the grip of the passion I felt by then.

Her womb was on fire now, growing tighter and tighter around my plunging weapon. I felt
her drawing near to what I assumed was the thing they called a climax and I could hear her 
tortured breathing as she sobbed in aching delight.

"Ahhh, yes, dear one, yes, soon," she moaned, thrusting her loins so hard against my lips 
that they ached with the force of her movements. "Soon, soon I will feel it coming in me! 
Ahhh, dear, little Theresa, very soon, now, yes!"

She muttered those words a bit more, then suddenly she was jerking and thrashing 
beneath my mouth, almost as. if seized by some demon. I felt a hot flood of liquid filling my 
mouth, and remembering Father David's release, I drank and swallowed as much of the sour, 
creamy fluid as I could.

She tumbled and thrashed violently, now, thrusting her womb angrily against my eager 
lips as she pumped her own dart into my loins faster and harder than before. Deep in my 
aching tunnel, I could feel a familiar, demanding need growing stronger and stronger and I 
realized I was about to experience the exact ecstasy that she was enduring under my frenzied 
lips and tongue.

I wailed in delight as the harsh, compelling climax erupted in my loins and the come, as 
they called it, began to burst from my throbbing chamber and the Mother Superior drank 
from my pouring cave with as much delight as I was doing with hers.

For the longest time those marvelous sensations continued to race through me. I can not 
tell exactly how long the spasms and tremors lasted, but by the time we were finished with the
overwhelming spasms, I felt so drained and exhausted I could barely move. Now, perhaps you 
can begin to see the pure evil with which I had to deal as such a young and innocent child. 
Yes, of course, I was still pure, I still had the precious prize of my chastity, but what evil did I 
fall into, merely to protect that?

I know, I know no one will believe the things I have done. I know that they will care me liar 
to dare to accuse the Blessed Mother, soon to become a Saint, of such foul and depraved acts.

Deny it if you will, reader, call me evil and damned, say that I am insane with my own, 
sinful memories. Perhaps that is true. I may well be mad and not even know it. I can not deny 
that I an evil and have sinned.

But what I have written on these unholy pages truly happened. Incredible as it may seem, 
the events I have already related were only the beginning.

There were more, horrible, degrading acts, which make me shiver even now.

CHAPTER FOUR

The years passed and the evil I witnessed burrowed deeper into my soul, and my 
innocence waxed cold.

At times, even I find it hard to believe, that I saw the things that I saw, did the things that I 
did. All in the name of our Savior, all under his supposed protection and desires. For a girl 
growing into womanhood, the infection of evil was not hard to take hold.

I became the Mother Superior's protected pet. She gathered me to her massive bosom 
and sheltered me from the rest. She took a deep and loving interest in me from the moment 
of her seduction, on.

And, why not? I had probably been the only girl to respond to her desires and attentions 
willingly. I assumed right from the start, that half the beatings she administered were to young
girls that fought off her advances. Only I had been wise enough to endure them, nay, cultivate
her interest in me.

I quickly found how just how unchaste and evil the environment I was living in was. If I had
any illusions concerning the purity and celibacy of the nuns and monks, they were quickly 
erased from my young mind.

I believe from the moment I first willingly pressed my lips to the Mother Superior's, I was 
doomed. I did not know it then, of course, at that time I was merely a frightened child trying 
to make things easier on herself.

But no matter how I try to condone or justify my actions, I realize now that I had taken the 
first step down the long road to damnation, and I had taken it eagerly. I had not fought the 
sin I was encountering, no, I dove into the murky, dark waters of evil and found them to my 
liking!

The very next morning, the Mother Superior called me to her chambers for a private talk. 
The rest of the girls, as afraid as I was, wondered what was going to happen to me. They knew
from experience that the Mother Superior could have a vengeful temper and I am sure they 
feared for my well-being, if not my life itself.

Yes, there were always those rumors also. The whispered, half-understood and spotty tales 
of the nuns and priests who had gone just a little too far on occasions. Who had disciplined 
just a little bit too much.

I was frightened, but not nearly as much as I had pretended. I now felt I had something to 
hang onto. I had a secret connection with the old, ugly woman who ruled over us, and I 
intended to exploit it as much as possible.

But to the others, I played the terrified child. My back ached from the beating, though my 
loins remembered the delicious pleasures I had experienced much more. I shivered in the cold
of the morning at breakfast, moaning every so often just to keep the rest of the girls worried 
about me.

Leah looked smug at the far end of the table. To her, it had all worked out exactly as she 
had hoped. When I glanced at her, I received a cold, nasty sneer, an upturned lower lip that 
signaled her contempt for me, and her obvious feeling that she had won. I made a mental 
note to bring her down, later on. To destroy her little world the first chance I got. Do you see, 
how already, I knew my position? How, even as a frightened, fifteen-year-old girl, I could be 
sure of where I was going.

Ohh, Dear Clod, how could I have not known, then, what would become of me? How could
I not see the evil that was rapidly enveloping me? How could I have fallen into the pit from 
which there is no return?

But these thoughts were not on my mind at that time. No, the only thing I was concerned 
with was presenting myself correctly to the tyrant that lorded over us. I only cared that she 
find me pleasing in her eyes. That was all that mattered.

As I walked over the cold, bare stone floor toward the Mother Superior's chambers, I tried 
to remain calm. I wanted to give her the impression that I had completely enjoyed the night 
before, and was more than willing to continue our evil coupling.

The truth of the matter was that I had enjoyed myself. It was much more satisfying that 
toying with myself, and certainly better than losing my virginity. Yet, it was also more than 
that. It seemed that whenever I encountered evil, though my soul and sense of goodness 
would resist, my heart and my flesh would respond.

I was troubled, but I felt it was something to deal with later, when I was older and 
understood these things more clearly. I had no idea that that was the moment I should have 
been dealing with the evil in my heart, the thought never occurred to me.

I entered the Mother Superior's chambers meekly, bending down to kiss her ring as she 
sat on the edge of a large divan. She was dressed in her formal robes, her face stern and 
impassive as l knelt before her.

"Have you searched your soul, child and sought forgiveness for your attack on novice 
Leah?" she asked me. From the tone of her voice, one would never suspect the Filthy things 
we had done the night before.

"Yes, Blessed Mother," I replied, quivering with the right amount of fear I thought she 
would desire. "And I am heartily sorry for my actions. I have prayed to our Savior that he 
redeem me in spite of my vicious attack on poor Leah.' The Mother Superior patted my head, 
kindly, and chuckled happily. "Ah, but from the edge in your voice and the twinkle in your eye,
I can see you still feel a little justified in your actions, don't you my dear?"

I sighed. It was obvious that I could not fool this old bitch completely. It was best that I 
admitted my feelings to her. I moaned and shuddered, as if in deep despair and quaking fear.

"I can not say no to your question, dear Mother," I groaned, not lifting my eyes from the 
floor as I spoke. "It is true, I am unable to drive the feelings that I had a right to act, from my 
soul. I am truly sorry for hurting her, truly sorry that I have sinned, but the feeling remains."

The Mother Superior cackled in delight, slapping one of her massive thighs and pinching 
my cheek affectionately. "Ahh, you are a treasure, little Theresa, a true treasure indeed," she 
laughed. "Let me tell you a secret, I am glad you gave that smug little whore a beating! It was 
long deserved!"

I stared at her in shock, though I felt it much less than I appeared. I had wondered about 
her true feelings toward Leah, and I had not been surprised to find she did not like her. Leah 
was too direct, too open about her deeds. The Mother Superior preferred a more subtle 
approach.

"Yes, the little slut had been asking for it for a long time," she cooed softly, her fingers 
gently riding up and down across my cheek. "Someone was bound to take her down a notch 
or two, it merely happened to be you."

Feeling a bit bold, I lifted my eyes to hers and shook my head. "All I did was get myself in 
trouble with you, Blessed Mother," I sighed. "Even now she is hatching new plots to torment 
me. I can tell, she gave me that kind of impression at our meal this morning. I fear her plans 
for me."

The Mother Superior's eyes narrowed in anger and for a brief instant, I feared she would 
unleash her fury upon me. I quivered in terror as she stood up, abruptly and went over to ring 
the bell summoning a Sister to her chambers.

She turned and stared at me intently. "Have no fear on that account, little dove," she 
hissed through her teeth. "I shall make you a full novice with the same privileges as she. That 
should take the claws out of her paws."

I could not believe it. In a few moments, Sister Margaret arrived, and listened silently as 
the Mother Superior explained her wishes concerning me, to the younger nun. I had to fight a 
peal of laughter that ached to leap from my lips as I listened to her instructions to Sister 
Margaret.

In a matter of moments, because of her power, she had taken me from lowly, peasant girl, 
to full-fledged novice. I was a mere child of fifteen, hardly aware of anything, and yet, here I 
was, to become a growing power in the convent and monastery. I felt more alive than I ever 
had in my life, and for the first time, I gave a measure of careful thanks to my father for 
bringing me here.

Naturally that ended my problem with Leah. From that day forward, she lived in mortal 
terror of me. I did not confront her directly, that manner of attack appalled me. I preferred the
Mother Superior's more refined approach.

I said nothing to Leah, did not even exercise the option of being rude to her. No, I was 
learning quickly, and my understanding of the power that fear brings to one was being 
molded rapidly. Instead of playing with her fear, I sought to use it to my benefit. I did not 
want to destroy Leah, I wanted to bend her to my will.

"Now, little dove, you must listen to me, carefully," the Mother Superior told me, once 
Sister Margaret had gone and we were alone once more. "For I have many plans for you, 
many ways in which you might serve me."

"Ohhh, Blessed. Dearest Mother," I sobbed, dropping down on my belly in front of her, 
grovelling at her feet. "That is my only wish, my only desire! Please, I beg you, let me serve you
in any way possible!"

"Hush, child, and rise," the old woman said in a soft, affectionate voice. "I do not wish to 
have a slave, no, I want something more useful than that!"

She bade me to rise and join her on the divan. We sat with out bodies touching, her hands
idly roaming over mine as she spoke. Her words were soft and almost melodic as the evil she 
planned rippled smoothly off her tongue.

"I want you to be my eyes and ears, little one," she chuckled wickedly, giving my bare 
thigh a tender squeeze. "I have many, many enemies, I need intelligent, cunning friends, I 
believe you will fit my purpose perfectly. I think, my dear, you will go quite far in this world, if 
you will only trust me."

"I trust no one better, Blessed Mother," I whispered, leaning my body into hers. "There is 
no one else I would place my life at his or her feet. I am yours to command, Blessed Mother, 
totally yours to command!"

And so, I became her spy. I was more than happy with the arrangement, I can assure you. 
As the years passed, we became so close, it was almost as if we were one. The old woman 
needed my youth and blossoming beauty to sooth her worries of growing older, and she 
needed my sharp mind to hatch the plots she devised.

By the time I turned eighteen, I was the most respected and the most feared of all the 
other novices, and soon to become a full-fledged nun. So far, all I had done was keep my eyes
and ears open for the Mother Superior, but all this would change as I traded my freedom, at 
last, for the chains of the cloth.

I had not wanted to become a nun, in fact, all through the years of growing in the convent,
I had only one thought: To escape and live my own life once I was old enough to leave.

Being under the Mother Superior's protection afforded me freedom of movement and a 
sense of security unlike anything I had ever known. Given the fact that I did not flaunt my 
position helped considerably, also.

No one doubted my place at the Mother Superior's right hand, but no one could fault me 
for my manner of carrying myself around her, or merely in the company of others. I dedicated 
myself to mastering the art of humility.

By the time I reached my eighteenth birthday, I had not changed my mind about escape 
from the foul hole, but I was troubled and confused as to what to do with myself once I left 
the walls of the convent.

I had no skills and was not rich. I had no idea how I would make my way in this world. I 
dreamed of being carried off by a rich and handsome man, but I knew full well that they were 
only dreams.

"Have you considered staying on here, my dear, becoming a full nun?" the Mother 
Superior asked me one afternoon as we shared tea. "There are many, many advantages to our 
way of life, you know?"

I sighed and nodded, shrugging at the same time. "I know, Blessed Mother, I know that so 
well," I groaned, giving full vent to my confusion and despair. "The peace and safety of the 
convent will be hard to leave, but I am afraid my weak soul and frail heart desire more out of 
life. And I do not know what to do." She laughed and patted my shoulder, giving me a dark, 
mysterious glance. "Ahh, but dear little Theresa, you do not know anything about it," she 
chuckled ominously. "We have more riches here than you can imagine. As my little eyes and 
ears, you have seen much, but not even the surface of what goes on."

I pressed her for more details in as casual a manner as I could, but she brushed off my 
questions with a firm shake of her head. "Never will you be admitted to the secret world I 
speak of until you are a nun," she explained firmly. "Once you become Sister Theresa, then you
will understand, then you will be able to enjoy things you could not even dream of! But only 
then, child, only then!"

I did not deny that I had wondered about many things. Things that I was aware were 
happening, but neither knew of, nor understood. Something in her voice made me feel that 
no where else, would I find what I was looking for.

And so, I took the vows and began my life as the servant and wife of our Savior. I had no 
idea of what might happen to me, but I ached to be allowed inside the circle, to discover all 
the pleasures the Mother Superior had hinted at.

The evening of my vow taking was my first initiation into the dark and sinful world I had 
been seeking.

I was in my cell, praying that I might receive the blessings of our Lord, and that I might 
serve him well, when Sister Margaret opened the small, wooden gate to my cell and motioned
me out without a word.

I was fearful at that moment. I knew the whispered stories that accompanied these first 
evenings. It was said that all the sisters went through a change during that first evening. In 
that one night, they became what they were. I feared what the first test might be.

I thought at first, that Sister Margaret was leading me to the disciplining room. We walked 
down the same wide corridor, but instead of stopping and going into the small chamber, 
Sister Margaret passed it by and proceeded to the far wall.

I was confused and then I gasped as she pressed and turned one brick and the wall parted 
a bit, revealing a secret passage beyond. She looked around quickly and then motioned for 
me to hurry and follow her.

The other side of the wall was narrow and damp and led steadily downward perhaps a full 
floor beneath the earth. Carefully we made our way to the bottom level. I was breathing 
rapidly, completely enthralled by being part of this secret.

Never, in all the years I had been in the convent, had I ever heard of, nor suspected there 
might be hidden places and secret chambers. I knew at once, as we made our way down a 
narrow corridor toward a dimly lit room at the far end, that something important was about to
happen to me.

My heart was beating wildly as we stepped into the room. It was quite small and the odor 
was thick with the stench of bodies and an evil scent I recognized as blood. There were three 
others in the room, and I stopped short as I encountered them.

My eyes first lit upon a girl roughly my age, strapped naked to an evil looking platform in 
the center of the room. She seemed dazed and confused, but the sweat of fear had coated her
lovely flesh, making it glisten in the dim light that covered the tiny room.

At either end of the platform stood the Mother Superior and Father Dorian. He had aged 
beyond his years since the time I arrived at the convent. He now seemed much older than the 
mere thirty years he held.

The Mother Superior smiled warmly as I entered the room, and she knelt once then rose 
and offered me her ring. I bent and kissed the cold jewel, unable to keep the quiver from my 
voice as I spoke.

"I hope most gratefully, that I will please you in my new role, Blessed Mother," I murmured,
glancing nervously at the girl on the rack beside me. "I pray that I may carry out our desires 
perfectly."

"Ahh, I am sure you will, my little dove, I'm sure that you will," she chuckled in delight. She 
waved her hand in the direction of the helpless girl. "There are two key tests in entering our 
world, my dear, this is the first of them."

I followed her arm and stared down at the girl. Her eyes were open and I now realized that
she had been dazed by the pain thus far inflicted on her. Her arms and legs were stretched 
taut, the veins bulging against her skin.

Her creamy, attractive flesh was tense and trembling, her lovely mound quivering 
enticingly, her large, soft breasts jiggling from left to right with her rapid, labored breathing. 
She was clearly frightened to death, and merely gazing at her created a warm, thrilling fire in 
my loins.

"What must I do, Blessed Mother, to complete this first task," I whispered feverishly, unable
to keep the excitement out of my voice. "Tell me what I must do!"

The Mother Superior laughed, softly and took me aside a few feet. "You have to learn the 
art of punishment, my child," she explained, her own voice now growing thick with increasing 
anticipation. "You must learn to drag the sin out of our subjects! You must learn to teach them
the errors of their ways!"

She turned and glared at the girl lying on the narrow rack. "This worthless, ungrateful bitch
has denied my favors," she growled, shivering with rage. "She does not wish to give herself to 
the Savior's wife, she will not obey God's command!"

I glanced at the girl once more, shaking my head and thinking how foolish she must be. 
She had defied the Mother Superior and now she would pay dearly for humiliating the old 
woman. I felt sorry for her, but not very, it was her own mistake.

"You wish me to discipline this slut, Blessed Mother?" I whispered softly, my loins tingling 
with delight at the idea. "You wish me to teach her to have more respect for the commands of 
our Master?"

"Yes, my child, yes," moaned the Mother Superior, her eyes almost wild with the passionate
craving for pain that she was feeling. "But more, much more than that! By the time you have 
completed your task, this worthless trash shall know full well her duty, I assure you!"

She drew me over to the table and reached down, gripping the girl's chin in her big, fat 
paw. She yanked the girl's small, pretty head from side to side, until she moaned and her eyes 
focused on the Mother Superior's leering face.

"So, you still feel you are too pure and noble to serve me, humm?" she growled, pinching 
the girl's flesh so hard that she winced. "You have one last chance, slut, what is your answer to 
me, now?"

"You... you go to hell, go to hell, you evil toad," the girl stammered. Her voice was weak 
and broken, coated with a layer of pain. "I'll... I'll never... never do what you want... not... not if 
you... you kill me!"

I shuddered when I heard her spitting the words out at the Mother Superior. I admired her
courage but shook my head in disgust at her stupidity. How could she lay there weak and 
defenseless and be so foolishly bold, I wondered.

The Mother Superior's eyes turned colder than I had ever seen them. When she glanced at
me again, I felt my belly dropping as if I had fallen from a high, tall cliff and were tumbling 
down to my doom.

"She has an evil little tongue, Sister Theresa," the Mother Superior laughed, grimly. "I do 
not believe our Lord would care to hear her speak any longer!"

She reached behind her to a small table and picked up a pair of long-handled pliers, the 
sort of things a blacksmith uses. She handed them to me, slapping them into the palm of my 
hand with a sense of finality.

"Remember what our Bible tells us, Sister," she growled, her voice reaching a point of 
almost hysteria. "If something offends thee, rip it out! Her tongue offends our God, Sister, tear
it out! Tear it out!"

A horrible chill ran up and down my spine. I gazed, wide-eyed in shock at the cold, black 
pliers in my hand and then at the horrified, frightened face of the girl. She was rocking her 
head back and forth, mumbling unintelligible sounds.

This was the moment I was waited for. The time when I could find my way into the secret 
and powerful world I had sought. I had no dislike for the girl, if anything, I pitied her for her 
foolishness. But to do this, would take all my courage and I knew I must, or lose all I could 
possibly gain.

"Bitch, slut, worthless whore," I hissed glaring down at the girl. I waved the pliers in front of
her terrified eyes. "No more shall you utter foul and demeaning words about our Blessed 
Mother! I shall see to that!"

The girl screamed in horror and struggled uselessly at the bonds that held her secure to 
the rack. I could hear her bones creaking as she pulled on the taut ropes that gripped her.

Father Dorian reached over the end of the rack and got hold of her chin. With his slender, 
yet powerful fingers, he easily pried her mouth apart and held it open, as if it were locked in a 
vise.

"Please, ohhh, good Lord, please don't do this," the girl whimpered as I leaned over her. 
"No, no, dear Jesus don't! Help, ohh, God, God, help me, please!"

She struggled wildly, trying to pull her head from Father Dorian's hands, but his grip was 
too strong and she could hardly move her jaw at all.

Her eyes beseeched me to have mercy on her, but I ignored them and slipped the ugly, 
evil tool between her teeth and opened the jaws of the pairs around her darting tongue. She 
pulled it away from the pliers and sobbed uncontrollably.

"Sister, please, please I beg you, no," she moaned, her words muffled and garbles by the 
pliers. "For the love of God, have mercy on me, Sister! Have mercy!"

"Tear it out, tear that evil bitch's tongue, out," hissed the Mother Superior over my 
shoulder. She was leaning so close to me, I could feel her hot, fevered breath on my cheek. 
"No, Sister, do it now!"

Quickly I caught the tongue between the blades of the pliers. She was screaming loudly 
now, jerking her head desperately, trying to pull her tongue free. I grit my teeth and adjusted 
my grip Firmly around the handles of the pliers. My palms were wet and slippery, and my 
body was sweating in nervous excitement.

The world seemed to swirl and dance around me for a single moment. I felt more powerful
and in control than I ever had before in my life. It was as if I had finally reached the place 
where I must be, and my belly was as calm as could be, and my soul full with the sureness of 
my position.

I took a deep breath and then pulled viciously on the pliers with all my might. Her scream 
of agony and horror pierced my ears and for a brief instant I had no idea what was happening.

I felt the flesh of her tongue fighting me, then I heard a loud, sickening sound of flesh 
tearing and I stumbled backward, still holding the pliers firmly in my sweaty palms. I stared at 
the severed tongue in shock as it flopped against the handles of the pliers.

The girl's mouth was filling with blood and she was wailing in pain. My loins seemed to 
grow hotter with each scream that I heard and I felt myself quaking with something other 
than fear and doubt, now.

The Mother Superior snatched the pliers from my hand and waved the severed tongue in 
front of the poor girl's eyes. "See, you whore, you bitch," she cackled in a vicious tone of voice.
"This is only the beginning, you ungrateful scum, only the beginning!" The girl gurgled and 
choked on her own blood, trying her head desperately to the side to let it drain from her 
mouth. Her face was now an ashen white and her body so tensed it seemed like a drawn bow. 
"Tighten the rack," the Mother Superior hissed at me, pointing to the two wheels on either 
side of the girl's twitching feet. "Tighten them one at a time, let's see how much discipline this 
worthless slut can take!"

I can not now deny the eagerness with which I grasped one wheel. I felt more intense 
pleasure turning that huge gear than anything I could remember. It felt strong and good in 
my hands and one simple little half-turn brought the delicious sound of bones being drawn 
tight and her wails of agony rippling delightfully through my ears.

Quickly I turned the other wheel and her body now lifted clear off the table, stretched as 
taut as it would go without tearing her bones from their sockets. She sobbed so loudly that it 
echoed off the walls and I trembled violently, for I had never heard such horrible cries of pain 
in my life.

The Mother Superior was beside herself now. She smelled blood in her nostrils and could 
only think of hearing more screams and seeing more pain inflicted. She reached over to a tall, 
burning urn and removed an ugly, metal whip. It was made of long, thin slivers of silver 
attached to a leather handle.

The metal strands had been resting over smoking coals in the bed of the urn and they 
glowed white-hot now, as the Mother Superior handled the evil instrument to me and nodded
at the defenseless young girl.

"Beat her, burn her, let her carry her sins on her flesh for the rest of her worthless life," the 
old moan snarled at me. "Brand her with God's vengeance, Sister, brand her with the Lord's 
will, now!"

Ahh, what pleasure I was experiencing at that moment. I gripped the handle of the whip 
tightly and lay the strands across the girl's full, spongy breasts. Instantly the white-hot slivers 
of metal began to sizzle against her flesh. She screamed in agony and the smoke rose from 
her body, the stench of her charred sink filling my nostrils with its sickening odor.

I laughed. For the first time, I allowed myself the laughter of delight I had been feeling for 
so long. I gazed down at her burning flesh and smelled the seared skin and felt the delicious 
ecstasy of inflicting pain overwhelm me.

I needed no more encouragement. Quite happily I lifted the whip from her charred flesh 
and brought it down across her naked, defenseless thighs. The peculiar effects of such a 
manner of beating were remarkable.

Not only did the girl have to endure the harsh, cutting slice of the metal strands as the 
lashed against her tightly drawn frame, but allowing the metal to linger against her body, also 
put to use it's white-hot burning features.

Thus, not only was she being beaten, but burned at the same time. Again I brought it 
down, this time across her belly. She jerked against the bonds that held her and I thought I 
heard the snapping of a bone.

I began to thrash her wildly. I rained blow after blow down upon her, allowing the strands 
to sear her flesh before lifting the whip again. Her cries and squeals were music to my ears 
and I thrilled with each vicious blow that I brought down upon the weak and helpless young 
girl.

Her body was becoming a mass of open wounds, ribboned flesh and charred skin. In a 
matter of a few minutes I had reduced her lovely, young body to nothing but a twisted, ugly 
frame that would never again entice a man. Her beauty was being destroyed by my cruel 
attack, and I loved every second of it.

The harder I beat her, the more the strands of metal burned her flesh to the bone, the 
better I felt. Each time I struck her, grinning viciously, toying with her flesh with the strands of 
the whip, I felt the throbbing passion grow stronger in my loins.

This was where I belonged, I decided. This was what I was meant to do. I did not care what 
the girl had done any longer. I did not even feel sorry for her, now. The only thing that 
mattered was the fact that her torment gave me great pleasure, and I could only think of 
enjoying it all the more.

As I beat the girl, the Mother Superior and Father Dorian began to turn the two wheels, 
slowly, stretching her tighter and tighter. I could see her flesh drawn to the limit, and her 
sobbing was now so twisted and tortured, that she barely was able to make any sound at all, 
so horrible was her agony.

I beat her harder and faster, sensing the end to my passionate delight coming fast. Both of
the other two were turning the wheels faster now, and when I heard the first of the girl's 
bones snapping and tearing from their sockets, I felt such pleasure in my loins, I thought I 
might faint.

The girl screamed one long, last howl of agony as her flesh parted and the blood began to
spill from her torn arms and legs. She wailed in a continuous cry of pain that seemed to last 
for hours, but was only a brief few moments. Then her eyes rolled up into her head and she 
passed into blessed unconsciousness.

I was breathing so rapidly that I felt dizzy and light-headed. The Mother Superior took the 
whip from my hand and replaced it on the urn. She took hold of my shoulder lightly with the 
tips of her fingers and drew me away from the rack.

"That was excellent, my dear, truly excellent," she cooed lovingly, all the anger and rage 
now gone from her voice. "It is a pity the worthless slut could not give you more time to 
experiment, but there will be plenty of others, I assure you!"

She led me out of the room and down the hall to another chamber, this one even smaller 
than the first. It consisted, nearly, of nothing but a huge, circular bed that you almost stepped 
onto upon entering the room.

"Your next test shall come at once, my dear," she explained, seating me down on the 
incredibly soft mattress that covered the huge bed. "You will give yourself freely to whoever 
enters this room. The time for your womanhood in God is at hand!"

With that, she left me alone in the room, a single candle burning beside the bed, its 
strange glow illuminating the various drawings and pictures that dotted the walls of the small 
chamber.

I gazed at them dully. They were all composed of sexual couplings between men and 
women, women and women and even women with animals. I had no doubt as to why I was 
there, and I trembled, wondering who would enter the door.

CHAPTER FIVE

Ah, the poor fools that think they know so much of the world. That dare to believe they 
truly understand what happens in the tight society of priests and nuns. If only they realized 
how gladly we romp in the realm of the flesh!

I waited breathlessly, frightened but now, no longer filled with a sense of despair and 
loathing at giving up my most precious prize.

This was the true test of my willingness to enter the Mother Superior's world, and I ached 
to please her.

More than anything, I wanted to quickly become one of them. My only worry was who the 
man was to be. I only feared he might be too rough, not gentle enough in his taking. I only 
feared possible pain, that was all.

In a few moments I noticed various little windows opening around the room. They were 
mere slits and behind each of them drew a pair of eager, excited eyes. I realized at once that 
my actions would be observed by all the sisters, and I prayed that I performed in the correct 
manner.

The door slid open and Father Dorian entered the tiny chamber. Unlike the other time, a 
few years before, when he had seemed nervous and embarrassed by having to rape that girl in
her asshole, this time he was calm and confident.

He sat down beside me and patted my knee. "Dear little Theresa, you do not know how 
long I have yearned for this day," he sighed, shivering a bit with excitement. "I always prayed I 
would be the one to initiate you, and now my dream has come true!"

"Dearest Father," I moaned, slipping to my knees beside the bed, clasping my arms around
his legs. "Please, please help me in this, I am so unworthy, but I wish so much to please you!"

He stared down at me, the growing lust clearly twinkling in his eyes. He patted my head 
and gently drew me back up on the bed beside him. He pulled me close to him, his arms 
wrapping around my body, hungrily.

"I do not think that will be a problem," he whispered, his voice thick and trembling with 
emotion. "No, little Theresa, I do not think that will be a problem, at all!"

His mouth suddenly dropped to mine and I felt his lips urgently roaming back and forth 
across my own. I sighed and shivered in response, already feeling the return of the warm, 
thrilling pulsation to my loins.

His kiss was delicate, yet manly. There was no weakness to his character now. The years of 
the convent and all he must have witnessed and done during that time, had made him strong 
and experienced. I could not have asked for a better man for my first time at this.

I moaned as I felt his tongue greedily forcing its way past my teeth, prying them apart and 
demanding access to my mouth. Willingly I allowed his tongue to probe the moist, warm 
cavity, dancing and twirling around my own.

I shuddered as I felt one of his hands riding over the front of my robes, his palm greedily 
pressing against my chest. I moaned in delight as he began to knead and fondle my aching 
spheres through the folds of my garment.

As our tongues entwined, hungrily, his other hand was busily roaming down over my back,
squeezing and kneading my quivering spine. I gasped as his hands reached the curve of my 
buttocks and he smoothly slithered his fingers over the rim of my hips and down to my 
quaking lap.

His digits were soft, yet compelling as he toyed with my thighs through my robe. I felt 
weak and liquid-like as he fondled my loins, and I could not wait to feel his flesh against my 
own in eager union.

I mashed my mouth hard against his own, kissing him deeply and passionately. "Take the 
unwanted prize from me, Father, take it soon," I groaned, thrusting my body against him 
hungrily. "I don't wish to be burdened by it any longer! I give myself to you eagerly!"

He laughed in pleasure, his tinny glee echoing off the walls. I felt his fingers greedily 
slithering beneath my garment, slowly riding along the warm, trembling flesh of my inner 
thighs.

I shuddered spasmodically, waves of aching passion rippling through me now, as his 
wandering digits explored more of my naked limbs. My belly was trembling wildly and my 
womb throbbing intensely.

I felt his other hand drop from my breasts and grip my wrist, tightly. "You must help me 
with this, child," he whispered frantically. "You must attend to my tool and prepare it for 
entering you!"

I shivered involuntarily with growing excitement and fear as he guided my hand down to 
his lap. He let go of my wrist and swept the folds of his cassock aside, revealing his groin to 
my fingers and eyes.

His manhood was growing rapidly, beginning to throb with the feverish blood that was 
now racing through it. The shaft was not nearly as massive as it had appeared to my eyes 
years before, but it was huge, nonetheless, and I wondered if I would be able to accommodate
him adequately enough.

Not that that mattered. If he were to tear me in two with his hard, quaking shaft, I would 
not care. All that I thought about was performing well for the eyes that were staring at us from
behind the wall.

Whatever I had to endure, I would do so gladly, for I wanted to become a part of their 
inner circle much, much more than I worried about the pain of intercourse. I willingly allowed 
him to place my hand over his expanding tool.

The flesh of his rod was fiery hot and as I wrapped my fingers around it, he gasped in 
aching pleasure and shuddered uncontrollably in delight. I thrilled to his reaction, almost 
unable to believe I could create such a response in him.

Gently I squeezed the huge, hot weapon. I kneaded his burning flesh with my fingers, 
carefully working my way up and down along the length of his shaft. I tugged and pulled on 
his prong in a teasing manner, and each movement of my fingers made him more and more 
frenzied in his passion.

His fingers now pulled and fumbled with the sash that held my robes closed. I laughed 
softly as he yanked on the velvet length of rope, then I brushed his hand aside and quickly 
untied the stubborn knot.

My robes parted with a quiet hiss and he sucked in his breath in a tortured fashion as he 
gazed at my naked body beneath the robe. My slender, shapeless frame had filled out over 
the years and I was no longer the skinny little child he remembered.

My breasts, though not massive, were full and firm, they rode high on my rib cage, my 
pink, proud nipples pointing toward the sky. My hips were rounded and swept into the curve 
of my thighs. My pubic mound was thick with hair and shaped as perfectly as one could be.

I was a delicious feast for his eyes and his cock registered his satisfaction by throbbing 
harder in my clutching fingers. I felt it growing as hard as a length of iron and I sighed, 
contentedly, as I continued to knead and fondle the huge, hot weapon of his love.

"You are, beautiful, little Theresa, simply exquisite," he moaned, his eager fingers dropping 
to my loins and breasts once more. "A vision, a pure vision to me, now! This will be marvelous,
my dear, simply marvelous!"

I felt his fingers kneading my breasts once more, tenderly rolling my nipples, each it turn, 
between the rough, knobby flesh of his thumb and forefinger. I groaned as a pleasing stab of 
pain tore through my globes under his attentive hand.

His other hand gently rode between my thighs, pushing on them greedily. I parted my lips 
with pleasure, giving him more room to maneuver as he hungrily explored my loins with his 
eager digits.

I gasped as he caressed my aching hillock. His delicate touch sent shivers of ecstasy 
rippling through me as he teasingly danced the tips of his fingers up and down across my 
cunt petals.

Harsh, almost painful spasms tore through me from his attack. My loins began to throb 
and burn with more intensity than I could imagine. I had spent many an hour with the Mother 
Superior in the last few years, but not all of them combined, had the effect of this man's hands
on my precious mound.

"Ahh, Dearest Father, Blessed Master, that is so good," I cooed, leaning into him, lathering 
his ear with my tongue in a wicked fashion. "You do such wonderful things to me, Father! 
Ahhh, I am weak with the pleasure you give me, weak with it!"

I pumped my hand up and down on his penis, now, tugging and turning my Fingers 
ruthlessly against his throbbing shaft. I pinched the thick, hard head of his spear between my 
fingers and drew lazy circles in the surface of his flesh with one of my long, sharp nails.

He gasped with delight as I fondled the quaking tool. I reached beneath his cock and 
gripped the hard, hot stones of his balls in my hand, squeezing them playfully in the taut, 
hairy sack that contained them.

"Ohhh, dear Lord, sweet Jesus, you do that well," he murmured, his voice so thick with 
passion now, I could barely understand him. "Ahh, yes, little Theresa, that's it! Yes, dear God, 
yes!"

Now his. greedy digits attack my loins with increased passion and need. He rolled the tips 
of the spears along the cleft between my slippery petals, pinching the lips tenderly as he 
twisted his digits against them.

The thick, creamy fluid was flowing from my womb, now, and the heat was pouring from 
within my aching passage. He gasped as he brushed his fingers across the tiny knob above my
womb and I bucked wildly, kissing his neck in response.

"Yes, ohhh, again, play with that tiny button again," I sobbed, sinking my teeth into his 
neck and kissing him passionately. "Harder and more, do it. Father, please, do it to me, I " 
now!

He laughed again and gently caught my quaking nub between his thumb and forefinger. 
Harsh, burning spasms that I could not control tore through me then, and I felt as if I might 
die from the pleasure as he rolled my aching button back and forth.

My own hands were not idle now. They tugged and squeezed his cock and balls with ever 
increasing passion and greed. I loved the way his manhood and genitals pounded against my 
kneading fingers.

The heat that roared through his flesh was unbelievable and he jerked about the large bed
uncontrollably as I continued to prepare his manhood for the final stage of our coupling.

The room was growing dank with the familiar odor of lust. The heady, thick scent tingled 
enticingly in my nostrils, filling me with an anxious wanting that I knew only complete 
surrender to his eager desires would fulfill.

I spread my legs wide apart and lay back down on the bed, pulling on his shaft urgently. 
"Take me now, Father, take my innocence from me, now," I begged him, pulling harder on his 
quaking tool. "Do it now, I beg you, Father, do it now!"

Father Dorian seemed hardly able to breathe. He sucked the air in and out in a tortured 
manner, and the groans and quiet sighs came from deep within his chest, almost constantly, 
now.

His Fingers slithered and danced around the entrance to my loins, then suddenly slipped 
beyond my quaking petals and rolled swiftly down to my maidenhead. I screamed in pleasure, 
clasping my thighs together against his hand, trapping it spasmodically between my damp 
and trembling limbs.

He laughed in pleasure, gently pumping the two, strong spears in and out of my quaking 
pit. Each time he tapped the tips of the digits against my aching hymen, I sobbed and thrust 
my womb hard against the probing hand.

Father Dorian seemed to know just exactly what to do to drive me to almost madness. He 
pumped his fingers in and out of me smoothly and rhythmically, all the time, twisting and 
turning them to widen my virginal canal for his invasion.

I groaned weakly, my mind swirling with the throbbing pleasure I was experiencing. I 
shuddered and gasped, now pulling on his huge, pounding tool with more aching demand 
that I would have ever thought myself capable of.

I cared about nothing, then, expect the insane sensation of a cock filling my womb to 
bursting. This was ten times more intense a sensation that I had ever felt with the Mother 
Superior and l wanted it to get better and better.

"Give... give it... give it to me, now," I pleaded with him. My lips were dry and cracked and I 
was almost helpless in the grip of my lust. "Ohhh, dear God, Father, give me your manhood, 
now!"

"Do you truly desire this, do you truly wish to give yourself to me?" he hissed, driving his 
fingers deep into my womb. "I must know the truth! Tell me, Sister, tell me, now, that you wish 
to sacrifice all!"

Now I saw clearly what I must do. I had to not only willingly give up my virginity, but I had 
to beg for it to be taken, I had to plead for the final destruction of my purity and innocence. 
There was no hesitation on my part.

I pulled wildly on his shaft, sobbing almost uncontrollably in passion, now. "Yes, ohh, God, 
Father, yes," I groaned, squeezing his cock and his balls fiercely in my hands. "Now, I give it to 
you, gladly now! Take me, father, take me, now!"

Quickly, Father Dorian slithered his body over my thighs and wedged himself down 
between them. I gasped in anticipation as I felt his cock slip from my fingers and ride swiftly 
along my inner flesh.

My limbs spread as wide as I could part them and I shuddered with excitement as I felt his 
fingers spreading the lips of my womb apart. He fit the thick, hot tip of his cock between my 
quivering petals and I gasped in shock and pleasure.

As he penetrated my virginal passage, my body erupted with the harshest, most 
compelling greed I had ever known. I groaned in delight, thrusting my loins up hard against 
his groin, working my inner muscles feverishly to draw more of the huge, throbbing shaft 
inside of me.

"Ahh, so wet and hot and tight," he chuckled happily, slithering more of his pounding 
weapon into my taut, slippery tunnel. "You are wonderful inside, my dear, a truly marvelous 
place for me to be!"

I moaned and shuddered, rocking my buttocks up and down on the bed, grinding my 
belly hard against his. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him tight to my 
breasts, groaning in pleasure as he sunk his shaft deep inside of me.

I felt the massive, pounding head of his tool shoved hard against my taut, virginal wall and
I sobbed in frustration as the tiny, unyielding membrane would allow him to go no further.

"Do it, do it hard and now," I hissed, my voice so urgent and passionate that it surprised 
even me. "Ohh, Father, Father, do it now! Break through that offending barrier right now, 
please!"

Father Dorian shuddered involuntarily as I flexed my muscles around his buried prong. I 
kneaded and massaged his shaft with them, urging him on with all of my body, now. I knew 
the heat of my passion was searing his flesh and I could tell that he was as stimulated and 
eager to continue as I was.

Playfully, though, he merely slithered his cock back out of me, then gently rode it down 
along my aching inner passage once more, stopping abruptly at my hymen, not attempting to
smash through it at all.

"So, you like this, hummm?" he chuckled, teasing me by rocking his prick back and forth 
against my tortured interior. "You would like me to go deeper, to use my tool to explore you 
more fully, hummm?"

I was almost beside myself with lust, now. My mind was swirling wildly and all that seemed 
to matter was getting as much of him in me as I could. I groaned and shuddered, thrusting 
myself against him hungrily, squeezing his flesh with my aching pussy muscles until I felt the 
throbbing tool in my womb almost growing to twice its normal size with the pleasure and 
greed he was experiencing.

"Now, ohhh, God, please, please do it, now, Father," I gasped. I was crying uncontrollably 
now, so caught up in the throes of my aching need that I could barely see anymore. "Do it, 
ohh, please, do it, now!"

He chuckled once again and slipped his strong, slender hands beneath my quivering 
buttocks. I felt his fingers digging into my spongy half moons, gripping them firmly as he 
adjusted his body above me.

From the way he was drawing tense and very stiff on top of me, his thighs steadying 
themselves, his fingers fondling my ass until they found the best grip, I could tell he was 
getting ready for the final plunge.

I shuddered in pleasure, feeling my womb poised on the edge of a delicious explosion. 
Father Dorian slithered his manhood back out of me once more, then took a deep breath and 
drove it into my womb as hard and fast as he could.

I screamed with a mixture of pain and pleasure as the hard, massive head of his tool tore 
through my virginity and relentlessly continued its journey to the depths of my quaking 
cavern.

The pain was intense, but only for a brief instant, and then I was overcome by the wild, 
thrilling delight and ecstasy of his cock buried to the hilt in my womb, throbbing powerfully 
against my inner walls.

Never before had I felt so complete. His manhood felt correct and snug inside of my 
tunnel, filling me to bursting, expanding my virginal passage beyond its normal width. I 
sobbed in pleasure, quivering uncontrollably with the first spasms of my relief already surging 
in the depths of my loins.

Eagerly I rocked and shuddered beneath him. He slithered his cock half the way out of my 
womb, then quickly rode it back along my aching inner passage once more. I gasped and 
clutched at him with my muscles, eagerly grinding my damp, trembling belly against his as he 
buried himself to the hilt inside me once more.

He began to pump in rapid, rhythmic strokes, each one a swift, fluid plunge to the base of 
my womb, followed by an equally pleasing withdrawal that made my inner flesh scream with 
passion.

"Yes, ohhh, so good, yes, yes," I gasped, digging my nails into his back, thrusting my cunt 
up to meet his plunging tool. "Hard, fast, good! Yes, Father, ummm, so nice, yes, yes, yes!"

He laughed almost viciously and rode his cock in and out of me with increasing rhythm 
and force. Each stroke he took seemed to lift me higher on a plane of ecstasy I had never 
imagined even existed.

My womb was on fire, now, pounding with such demanding lust that it was almost an 
agony to bear it. I shuddered and thrashed under his violent attack, no longer caring about 
anything other than the delicious, fiery pleasures I was enduring.

Again and again he powered the huge, hot prong into my aching pit. I cried and sobbed, 
thrilling to the sensation of his throbbing flesh tearing along my own wet, steaming inner 
walls.

I found his rhythm and began to buck and drive in time with his every stroke. His fingers 
dug deep into my buttocks, squeezing them fiercely, pulling my loins to his in a frenzy of 
greed.

Both of us, now, were totally caught up in our greedy wanting and we relentlessly crashed 
our bodies together in the heat of passion. The room was foul with the odor of our lust now, 
and the air ringing with the cries of our pleasure and the noise of our bellies smacking 
together.

I could feel my pussy drawing tighter and tighter, getting more and more like an overly 
wound spring about ready to burst. I shuddered and moaned, thrusting my cunt hard against 
his driving tool as the pleasure overwhelmed me.

"I... I am going to... am going to, come," I gasped, my words so broken that only I could 
understand them. "Dear God, Father, now, going to come, now!"

The passion burst in the depths of my womb and the pleasure burned through my pussy 
as my climax erupted. I could fell my whole body churning with the angry, delicious sensation 
of release and I wailed loudly in response.

Father Dorian drove his cock in and out of me wildly, now, bucking and turning as he felt 
my loins exploding. I flexed my pussy muscles around the driving prong, determined now to 
bring him to the pleasure I was experiencing.

I do not really know how I was able to concentrate on anything but my own greedy 
desires, but I drove myself at him wildly, grinding and squeezing with my hips and muscles 
until I could feel his prick near bursting inside my throbbing canal.

He powered his shaft into me harder and faster than ever before. He thought nothing of 
me now. only of his own pleasure. He pumped his cock in and out of my womb with frenzied 
abandon. Each stroke was more vicious and violent than the last and I could do little but lay 
there under his angry attack.

I felt him ride the thick, fat prong deep inside of me and then felt his whole body 
convulsed with a tremor of pleasure. He groaned thickly, grinding his cock against my inner 
walls as the climax ripped from his balls.

The thick, hot wads of come spurt from his tool, searing my inner walls and thrusting me 
hard against the mattress with the sheer power of his orgasm. I felt the thick, creamy fluid 
filling my pussy completely and I sighed contentedly as his orgasm roared through his loins 
uncontrollably.

"I'm coming, Theresa, coming in you, now," he moaned, bucking his cock inside of me 
again and again. "Ahhh, dear Jesus, it's good! So damn good, little dove, so wonderful coming
in you good!"

Both of us were consumed by our release, now, and we sank deep into the pit of carnal 
delight as the uncontrollable tremors continued to quake inside of us. I shuddered and 
sobbed, thrashing involuntarily for a long, long time, before I felt my passion begin to drain 
away.

Finally, Father Dorian rolled off of me, and lay beside me, exhausted and gasping for 
breath. I felt brand new, in that moment, I felt I was someone I had never been before, and I 
found this new person to my liking.

I realized then, that I never wanted to escape the convent. I never wanted to give up this 
strange and sensual existence I had been introduced to. All the innocent thoughts I had 
grown up with, I pushed aside. I promised myself, right then, that I would never, ever leave if I 
did not have to.

And I never did.

CHAPTER SIX

My enemies grow more worried every day. It appears they are now trying to poison me. 
My food has a taint to it, an acrid, unpleasant smell. Are they so foolish to think I could not 
tell?

From my spies, I have learned that my enemies have discovered the fact that I am writing 
this history. I am not surprised that they are upset. They should be, for once this is done, no 
one will be able to erase it from reality.

So, they sneak around, attempt to gain access to the kitchen where they prepare my 
meals. Foolishly they drop pellets into my wine, doctor my meat, substitute deadly 
mushrooms for edible ones.

I am never fooled. They think they are dealing with a sick, old woman who is too feeble 
and ancient to know any better. They actually believe that after all these years, I could not tell 
with a single glance or a brief sniff that my food is bad.

What do they think I have been doing all these years? How do they think I have been able 
to keep my position while others around me fell. Yes, can they explain, while during the reign 
of terror we had to endure, how I, of all the rest, survived.

Ohh, I know poison. I know it only too well. I have used it myself on many a victim, even 
watched and studied the reactions quite carefully. I know poison, they should realize that, the 
fools!

So, I have other food smuggled into me. I let them chase around my kitchen all that they 
please. It amuses me to watch them rack their brains for a new and clever method of 
introducing the foul ingredients of their plots to my body.

But I shall not perish in that fashion. Not by trickery or stupidity at any rate. And certainly 
not until I have finished putting all I know on paper. I must live that long, and I shall, believe 
me, I shall!

For, now, you see, we are coming to the part that frightens all those that wish me ill. Had I 
confined my writings to what happened to me those many, long years ago, my enemies would
hardly bother with me at all.

The Mother Superior is long dead, and almost all her evil partners with her. The history of 
that woman would not interest them, and if I went no further, why, they probably would be 
content to just let me die in peace. But it shall never be that way, no indeed! The worst is yet 
to be told!

And so, I grew and prospered as a nun. I gathered no personal wealth, nothing of the gold
and silver I had once coveted so greedily. I was a poor in material riches in many ways, as any 
common peasant. But then again, I had no need of such things.

My world was full of excitement. And as for riches, I had more in many ways than any man 
or woman alive. Yes, I understand how this sounds, it reads much like the peaceful thoughts of
a dying nun, reflecting on the pleasures of serving her God. How amusing if it were only so.

No, my delights, my pleasures came from the flesh, not the simpering prayers that you 
might suspect. No, dear reader, how I lived would shock even Satan himself, for I easily rivaled
his evil with my own!

In the few years between the moment I became admitted to the inner circle, to the time 
when all the horror and fear began to sweep the land, life at the convent was as calm and 
normal as one could want.

Normal, that is, if one has the peculiar tastes that I developed over the years. I was, of 
course, the closest person to the Mother Superior. I grew from the little girl she used as her 
eyes and ears, to the power behind the throne so to speak.

As the ugly old woman grew weak with age, she listened to me more and more. I became 
the only one she could trust, the only person she could dare to confide in. It was a delicious 
and teasing sensation to have complete and total access to her in this manner.

Others might wait hours, days, even weeks to be granted an audience, but I had her ear 
whenever I chose to speak. Others might grumble and complain among themselves, but none 
dared cast a dark light upon me, for fear of her wrath.

It was easy to manipulate the old woman. So disgusting in features was she, that almost 
no one could bear to be around her but I. As she grew older, her passion for lust increased, as 
if every incident could somehow bring her youth back.

I could not stand the horrid bitch, I seethed with hatred for her, and the mere touch of her 
flesh made me ill. But I did not let her see my reactions, I did not allow her to know how much
I was repelled by her. In her mind, I loved her, could not get enough of her passion.



* * *



That, of course, was exactly how I wanted it. I planned it that way right from the beginning.
I had set my course while still a child and maturing brought nothing to me but the 
understanding of what I had been doing.

When I was forced to make love to her, I would shut everything out of my mind and bend 
to the task with passion. I worked to bring her to the highest plane of ecstasy that I could, and
my efforts did not go unregarded.

In time, she made me second only to her in the hierarchy of the convent. Soon, all 
messages, even from the Pope himself, had to go through me before they reached her eyes 
and ears.

Sister Margaret, once hopeful to achieve the position I had, was now reduced to little 
more than a servant to the both of us. She glared at me through veiled eyes and would not 
talk to me unless she had to, but I did not care.

Leah, now Sister Joan, became my personal right hand. I had never abused her and she 
worshiped me, now, willing doing anything I commanded. I cultivated her as my own little spy 
and she did her job with relish.

Under my careful prodding, the Mother Superior began to branch her power out from 
behind the walls of the convent. I argued that she was not safe enough where she was, that 
she needed more spies and more information, especially in the court of our king.

Even the mention of his name gave the poor old woman the shivers. He was about the 
only person, man or woman, that she feared. He was an evil tyrant and had been going mad 
for years. The Mother Superior worried constantly about what might happen, should he ever 
finally go completely insane.

"He will start such an inquisition that none of us will escape," she told me, shuddering with
ice-cold terror at the thought. "Mark my words, dear Theresa, the man smolders with hatred, it
will not take much to unleash his fury!"

"That is why we need the spies," I replied, bearing down on my words, giving them just the
right amount of force to worry, but not anger her. "We must know what is happening at all 
times, how else can we protect ourselves?"

Of course, the wicked old woman gave in. I could badger her into anything, and I believe 
she secretly feared my own power too. She was no fool, she could see me growing in my role 
and only by granting me permission to do as I wished, would she be able to control me.

She knew, that as long as she ordered the gathering of information, they would be her 
spies. But, if she denied my request, she was certain I would go ahead without her approval, 
thereby creating my own network of people loyal to me, instead of her.

Thus, to protect herself, she agreed to my plan. She was secure in the fact that the spies 
were loyal to only her, though she was wrong. Each person I encountered, I told that she was 
old and feeble and did nothing more than agree. The spies quickly decided where their 
loyalties lay.

Soon, I had more power than I could have ever dreamed of. It was settled in her hands, 
but belonged to me. And everyone but the Mother Superior knew it. By the time the ax fell, I 
was prepared.

But before that, the years rolled by, filled with passion and evil pleasures. I quickly learned 
what life in the cloth truly meant. It had little to do with being Godly or humble. It was more a 
sanction to indulge in every kind of sinful endeavor one could imagine.

To say there were orgies and wallowing in the most debased of sensual delights would be 
putting it mildly. We all lived for this, all of us spent every waking hour dreaming up 
something new and exciting to do.

And the evil in our souls grew worse, more putrid and foul. Soon, merely taking a girl from
the village and toying with her for an evening wasn't enough for the nuns and monks and I.

Soon, capturing some poor, young stranger and forcing him to service us all again and 
again until he could no longer bear the sight of a woman's loins, was not nearly enough to 
even whet our appetites.

We had to invent new pleasures, new games to play. Than that is when the tortures truly 
began for us. That is when the horror and degradation that I sank into without any escape 
became the rule of the day.

We had a craving for flesh. For the screams of agony that sounded so sweet and pure in 
our ears. I could see this evil festering beneath the surface of us all, but only I dared to bring it
out.

Even the Mother Superior would not have taken things as far as I did. Even she would not 
have had the courage to act on her emotions and lust as I had finally done. No, it took 
someone more bold and willing than she, and that someone was I.

It began with a young couple who had lost their way and stopped at the convent for 
shelter. Their carriage was old and battered and their clothing, while clean and attractive, 
showed the signs of wear and mending.

It was obvious that John and Beth were not very well off. At the evening meal they told us 
as much, speaking honestly in our presence of their lot in this life.

"We are poor, yes, but we have each other," John said, giving his wife's hand an 
affectionate squeeze. "I would not trade our life for anything!"

I smiled at him, my loins quickening as I wondered, idly, what he was like without the 
layers of clothing he was wearing. His body was reedy, yet taut, and his hands gnarled with 
hard work.

His wife, the girl called Beth, was a tiny thing, not much bigger than a child. She had 
exquisite features, delicate and sculptured as if by a master's hand. Her face was a pure cameo
and even with her dress covering her, I could tell she had a lean, firm body.

I wanted them both. I ached to touch their naked flesh, and to feel their loins against my 
own. I felt the familiar stabbing sensation in my belly when I mused on how much torture they
could endure. All around me, the other sister's faces were etched with desire, through these 
feelings were hidden to all but my knowing eyes.

"If we might stay the night, dear Sister, we would be so grateful," sighed Beth, her lovely 
face troubled with doubt. "It does not matter where we sleep, even the stable would be 
enough for us!"

I laughed and patted her hand tenderly. "You shall do no such thing," I said, shaking my 
head determinedly. "I shall have the nicest room in the convent prepared for you! No guest of 
ours will sleep with the animals!"

I clapped my hands and my trusty servant Sister Joan appeared at my side. I told her what 
to do and then sent her off, adding that she should bring back the special brandy when she 
returned.

Sister Joan nodded and chuckled softly as she turned to leave the room. What our guests 
could not know, was that the special brandy was laced with a powerful sleeping potion that I 
had developed over the years.

In a matter of minutes, my trusty aide returned and poured the young man and his wife a 
glass of the potent mixture. I quickly explained that the brandy was only for our guests and 
lifted my glass in a toast.

"To your good health and happy marriage," I said, my voice soft and warm as only I could 
make it get. "May you find much amusement before you are through!"

The young couple drained their glasses and I felt a surge of powerful pleasure rippling 
through my loins as I watched my potion disappearing down their throats. In a matter of 
moments they announced they were sleepy and I had Sister Joan show them to the room.

The two young people hardly had enough time to get into their sleeping gowns before 
the drug took effect. We found them sleeping soundly on top of the bed, too taken with the 
drug to even pull the coverlet down.

With the help of two monks, we hurriedly carried them down the narrow, hidden stairs to 
our pleasure chambers below the earth. They made not a sound as we carried them to the 
rooms, and each step made my heart beat faster in anticipation.

When we got them to the chambers, we quickly stripped them of their gowns and tied 
them to their respective places. The girl we put across the rack, fastening the ropes to her 
ankles and wrists. Her breasts rose and fell enticingly in her deep sleep and I had to fight the 
urge to kiss the tender, tiny globes as they quivered gently against her chest.

The young man, we bound to an X-shaped, upright structure that faced the rack where his 
wife lay. In just a few minutes the two of them were secured to their positions and only slept, 
unknowing of what was to befall them.

I stood a little to the side of the two helpless youths, drinking in their beauty and 
handsomeness. The young man's tool quivered in his sleep, almost as large as any other man's
rod, even limp as it was.

I could not wait to see the marvelous shaft hard and erect. Even as I stood there, I could 
feel the heat beginning to build in my loins and the dampness start to seep from my aching 
womb.

"Wake them," I hissed, clapping my hands loudly together. "Let us begin our little party! 
Wake the two of them at once!"

Diligently, Sister Joan threw bucket after bucket of water upon the two young people until 
slowly they began to sputter to life, moaning and squirming against their bonds, their heads 
aching from the powerful drug they had taken.

The girl came to complete consciousness first. She opened her eyes and stared at me for a 
moment, confused and not a little angered. She tried to rise and found the trap she was in.

"What... what is this?" she moaned, twisting helplessly against the tight cord that bound 
her wrists and ankles. "I... I don't understand, Sister! What am I doing here? Why am I tied 
down?"

Her husband moaned and opened his eyes. At once he drank in the situation and his voice
was a mixture of anger and fear. "Release us, Sister, please," he barked softly, trying to pull his 
arms free of the rack. "Please, Sister, we have done nothing to you!"

I walked over to where he was standing, a short riding crop in my hand. I smashed the 
metal tip of the crop across his cheek, viciously, opening a deep slice in his otherwise 
unmarked face.

"Silence, you worthless pig," I growled. I gave him another blow, not as hard this time. 
"You will speak only when spoken to, animal! You are here to be punished for your sins. And 
to entertain us, also!"

The young man groaned, licking the blood from his lips with his tongue. His eyes were 
wide with fear now, and some of the anger quickly faded from his voice as he grew to 
understand just how helpless he was.

"Please, I... I meant no disrespect, Sister," he moaned, shaking his head to further the point.
"I... I just... just am afraid, that's all!"

"You will feel more than fear before I am through," I growled, turning to his wife. "Your 
woman lays there, in all her obscene beauty! I intend to make use of that, a great use of it!" 
Beth screamed in horror as I nodded and Sister Joan began to turn the wheels of the rack, 
pulling her lovely, lithe arms taut. I felt a deep warmth in my belly as her cries of agony 
pierced the hushed silence of the tiny chamber.

"It hurts, ohhh, dear God, it hurts, Sister," she wailed, trying to pull free, succeeding only in 
causing herself more pain. "Mercy, dear Sister, Mercy please!"

I stared at her with contempt and brought the riding crop suddenly down hard against her
stretched belly. The flesh sang with a resounding slap and she cried out in quaking agony as I 
struck the tender flesh once more.

"Ohh, God, don't Sister, don't," sobbed her husband, his voice cracking with horror as he 
watched me beat his wife. "Please, we'll do anything, but don't do this, I beg of you, don't!"

Viciously I spun around and smashed the riding crop against his groin. His scream was 
three times as loud as his wife's had been, and his face twisted into an unrecognizable mask of
pain. His manhood quaked between his thighs, quivering with the impact of the blow, 
growing a deep red as it began to swell. I smashed the crop against it again and I could hear 
his teeth gnashing as the agony tore through him.

I laughed at his pain, but kept control of myself. I did not wish to destroy the very 
instrument of pleasure that I sought. I returned my attention to his wife, now breathing 
heavily, the fear dancing in her eyes.

Once more I brought the cruel weapon down against her flesh. I smashed the tip of the 
crop between her thigh, slashing at the pink, trembling mound of her womb, listening with 
delight as the metal of the crop made contact with her naked flesh.

She screamed in agony, her body twisting away from the blow as it landed. I saw the blood
begin to flow from the tom chamber and I brought the crop down hard against the tender 
hillock once more.

"Beg for mercy, slut," I growled, cracking the tip of the crop against her smallish breasts, 
the effects of the blow causing her nipples to expand in pain. "Let me hear you plead for 
God's forgiveness, you worthless slut!"

Again and again I struck the poor, defenseless girl. The crop was an evil tool, it sliced and 
tore at her flesh until more than a dozen places on her slender frame were oozing blood and 
the flecks of the liquid were splattering about the room.

"I'll do anything, anything at all," her husband groaned, shuddering with every blow that I 
struck. "God, have mercy on us, God forgive us, please, please stop!"

Sister Joan caught the knowing smile I gave her and she walked over to the young man. As
he watched with horror, she reached down with her hands and cupped his balls in the palm of
one, while wrapping her fingers around his cock with the other.

"This young lad seems full of seed, Sister," she chuckled happily as she began to knead 
and fondle his loins. "He must be a mighty stallion in bed, or else, has not yet had the chance 
to prove himself!"

The young man's face was etched with the lingering pain of his loins and the shame he felt
as Sister Joan's attentive fingers. There was no way he could resist her hands and soon his 
shaft was growing rigid and erect.

I found it most delightful to watch his almost agonized face try and fight the growing 
pleasure he was experiencing. I watched with delight as the shudders of increasing lust began 
to shake his trapped frame.

"Ahh, he is responding, how nice," I laughed viciously. I turned and smiled thinly down at 
his wife. "It would be most unfortunate if he had to endure this pleasure alone, would it not, 
my dear?"

The girl's frightened, pain-stricken eyes followed my own hands as I dropped them to her 
body. She gasped as she felt my fingers curling around one breast, and my palm slithering 
down across her belly. "Please, please, don't, please," she begged, her voice weak and full of 
shame. "Not... not this way! God, Sister, I beg you, don't make me feel this way!"

I laughed again and ran my fingers through the almost silken strands of blonde hair that 
covered her pubic mound. I could feel heat already rising from her loins and I knew she was 
becoming stimulated, no matter how much it appalled her.

She shuddered involuntarily as I kneaded her breasts. I rolled her tiny, rosy nipples back 
and forth between my fingers, pinching them teasingly until they were as hard as two pink 
pebbles.

Her flesh was smooth and warm, so soft I almost could not bear touching it. My loins were 
aching as I squeezed each precious mound in turn, and my fingers were soon coated with a 
thin film of love fluid that dripped from her moist cave.

Gently I rode my fingers up and down along her pussy lips. The tender petals quivered 
beneath my touch and soft, quiet sobs of pleasure began to escape her lips as I lovingly 
danced my fingers against her flesh.

Sister Joan was methodically kneading and squeezing John's balls and cock. She rolled the 
hard, throbbing stones over her knuckles and pumped her hand expertly up and down on the 
now thick pole.

Teasingly she pinched the knobby head of his shaft between her thumb and forefinger, 
making the young man gasp with a harsh, compelling passion and jerk involuntarily against 
the tight leather thongs that held him to the rack.

"Please, ahhh, no, it's too good, too good," he groaned, shutting his eyes tight against the 
unrelenting pleasure he was experiencing. "Ohhh, no, I... I can't bear it, it's too good, it feels 
too good!"

"It should, my dear, it should," Sister Joan laughed, slipping down to her knees in front of 
him, riding her moist, succulent lips over his belly to the tangled thatch of hair that covered 
his manhood.

She opened her lips and caught the purple head of his prick between them. The young 
man yelped in delight and quivered with horrible shame as she drew more of his shaft into her
mouth.

Sister Joan was known for her oral ability and I knew that she would bring him almost to 
the peak of ecstasy without ever allowing him to achieve orgasm. That is what I wanted, for 
these two were to perform for the rest of us, and I wanted them both as ready as they could 
be.

Now my hands attacked the girl's flesh with increased passion and greed. Hungrily I 
slithered two fingers into her womb and began to pump them briskly in and out of the 
delightful passage. I rolled and turned them as I powered them along, sinking them to the hilt 
in her darling womb.

She sobbed and shuddered, unable to resist the pleasures that were assaulting her now. I 
could see her tiny body erupting in response to my caress and as I pressed my thumb down 
hard on the tender button above womb, she screamed, softly in aching need.

"Ohhh, God, God help me, it's wonderful," she groaned, twisting and turning her body 
from left to right, her muscles fluttering wildly about my pumping digits. "It's marvelous, 
ohhh, dear Jesus, marvelous!"

The two of them were now very nearly ready to entertain us and I powered my fingers 
faster along the girl's wet passage, forcing it to expand against my attack, the thick, creamy 
lubricant of her wanting coating my fingers completely.

"You will service her for us," I hissed at the young man. His head was thrown back in 
ecstasy under the bobbing, relentless attack of Sister Joan's lovely mouth. "You will fuck her 
now, or pay the price!"

He groaned, almost unable to speak. Sister Joan's mouth rode swiftly up and down on his 
tool, now, her head rocking from side to side as she sucked hungrily on his thick, throbbing 
meat.

"Yes, yes, I will, I will," he gasped, shuddering with yet another harsh spasm of need. 
"Anything, I will do anything! I want to, ohh, God, I want to!"

I could hear the angry passion in his voice, completely overcoming his rage and shame. 
Now, for him, there was nothing left but to do as I ordered. Even his body had deserted the 
control of his mind.

Quickly I had him released. His wife moaned as he brushed past Sister Joan and drew next 
to the rack. Her eyes were tinged with pleasure, but she still denied her body's desires and 
shook her head, fiercely.

"Don't John, I beg you, please, don't," she moaned, shuddering as I removed my fingers 
from her womb. "In the name of all that's holy, don't take me this way! Not here! Now now! 
No!"

"Shut up, you foolish whore," he growled, climbing up onto the rack and nestling down 
between her thighs. "We have no choice, damn you! And besides, I want it, I want it right 
now!"

She screamed in shame and despair as she felt her husband's prick lay across her belly, 
throbbing powerfully as he kneaded and caressed her slippery, quivering pussy petals. She 
cried out again and shuddered, beginning to pray in a aching tone of voice.

Her husband ignored her then. He cared about nothing, at this point, but putting himself 
inside her and releasing the aching need that was throbbing in his groin. He reached down 
with both hands once again and pulled her pussy lips apart.

The unfortunate young woman wailed helplessly as her husband slipped the huge, 
throbbing head of his shaft inside of her taut, wet sleeve. She cried uncontrollably and 
shivered as he drove forward.

Slowly he buried his cock to the hilt in her quaking pit. We were all gathered around him 
now, watching intently as he squirmed tighter between her thighs, rocking and jamming his 
cock to the depths of the taut, hot pit.

"Beat me, beat me as I fuck her," he gasped, turning his head and pleading with me with 
his eyes and voice. "I want to be punished right now! I want to feel pain and I want to feel the 
pleasure!"

I laughed and nodded, giving him a good crack across the shoulders with the riding crop. 
He gasped in a mixture of delight and agony, his back arching a bit under the blow, a thin line
of blood welling up in the wound the tip opened in his flesh.

He began to pump his shaft in and out of her in a slow, rhythmic fashion. I timed his 
movements, bringing the crop down against his flesh in perfect rhythm with each powerful 
thrust he made.

Soon, his passion and speed increased. He was caught up in the ecstasy of experiencing 
pain and pleasure all at once and his cries were harsh and compelling with every stroke of his 
shaft and every lash of the crop.

"Ohh, God, it's good, it feels so good," he gasped, grinding his prick hard against her inner
walls. "Again, Sister, hit me again! It's wonderful, the pain is wonderful, her cunt is wonderful!"

I was stimulated beyond belief, now, and I eagerly rained blow upon blow down on the 
young man. I thrilled to see his huge, thick tool driving relentlessly in and out of his wife's 
tight passage.

He seemed not to care one bit whether she was enjoying herself or not, and that 
stimulated me even more. He slammed his prick into her again and again, twisting and 
grinding his belly against hers with a savage passion.

The girl thrashed and jerked about the rack beneath her husband's driving rod. "Yes, 
harder, yes, darling," she sobbed, shaking her head but unable to deny her enjoyment any 
longer. "Harder, John, do it harder! Ohhh, it's nice, so very nice!"

Now the two of them were so wound up in their lust, they hardly knew what to do with 
themselves. Their cries of pleasure filled the air, mingling with the wet smack of their bellies 
meeting viciously.

I smashed the crop against John's back harder and faster, opening up his flesh again and 
again, until his back was more bruises and cuts than flesh itself. I could smell their passion in 
all it's dank aroma and I groaned as pleasure surged through my own loins as well.

"I... I'm going to... to come," the girl sobbed, the despair and shame clear in her voice. 
"Ohhh, sweet Jesus forgive me, I'm going to come!"

She shuddered violently under her husbands violent attack, bucking and jerking wildly, 
almost throwing him off of her as her orgasm burst in her loins. He reached beneath her and 
gripped her buttocks to hold her steady, pulling her womb tight to his hard, driving shaft.

Again and again the girl was shaken by the tremors of release. The young man now 
powered his manhood into her cunt with a furious passion and a frenzied pace. He rocked and
twisted against her quivering inner flesh, sobbing as the moment came upon him for his own 
delicious release.

I watched as he sank his shaft to the depths of her cunt and groaned. His body quaked 
violently as the climax tore from him and I could actually see the girl's tiny body jerking under 
the impact of the come that spurt from his tool.

"I... ahhh, God, I'm coming," he gasped, shuddered so violently it seemed he would pull 
right out of her. "Coming, darling Beth, coming in you, now!"

Both of them thrashed and bounced about the rack so violently, that I mused it might 
collapse under their spasms of pleasure. They cried out and shook again and again until both 
of them were exhausted and drained of all energy and lust.

I allowed them to rest for awhile, then I pulled the young man from his wife and had two 
monks haul him away to a cell a little ways down the corridor. I stared down at his wife, a thin 
smile on my lips.

"You're evening has just begun, my dear," I whispered softly, bending over and pressing 
my lips to her tear stained cheek. "It that was not enough for you, there are plenty of monks 
to serve you!"

She screamed as I stood, cackling and nodded to the half dozen men in the room, as I left 
the torture chamber, I heard her screams.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Now, perhaps, you can see, just a bit, of how evil I was becoming. As for those poor, 
unfortunate young people. I can not say. I kept them with us for a number of months, until the
girl was so completely out of her mind that she was nothing more than a mindless slave.

The young man fared better. He found our little pleasures to his liking and quickly joined 
the monks in their order. Eventually we turned his wife free and she wandered off to whatever 
fate befell her.

Now, the rumblings of possible danger for us began to grow louder. In a matter of three 
years, the Mother Superior had died and I had taken complete command. I dismissed and 
banished Sister Margaret and was not unhappy to hear she fell into the hands of the king.

As for my network of spies, they kept me completely informed. Never did a single event 
take place, nor a decision made by the king and his people, that I did not hear of almost 
instantly.

I realized, clearly, that the inquisition was coming. I knew I would have to be more than 
prepared for it. Nay, I would have to lead it! Yes, that was my plan! I would become more 
terrible than the king!

Father Dorian was now an important Bishop in the king's palace. He pledged himself to no
one but him, but his loyalties, of course, were with me. He came and went with a great deal of 
liberty and this helped us greatly.

"You must begin with the village," he told me, seriously. He was drinking the sweet wine he
loved so well, made from grapes that only I selected. He drank a good swallow and cleared his
throat.

"Listen to me carefully, my dear Theresa," he said, his voice flat and toneless. "The king is 
jealous of you, he will try and dirty your reputation. We must fight this! The only way for you 
to triumph is to out-do his cruelty. Put your village to the rack!"

I had no aversion to this. The very idea of being able to torture anyone at will made my 
mouth water. All that concerned me was my position. I did not want to appear overly zealous, 
for that could bring me down as quickly as doing nothing.

"Are you sure this is the correct way for us to deal with this problem?" I said, peering 
intently into his eyes. "If Rome reacts in anger, all of us could lose everything we have, you 
know!"

Bishop Dorian laughed and shook his head. "Sometimes, my dear Theresa, for all your 
wide experience and devious ways, you are quite a simple little girl," he told me.

I bristled at his remark, I was not used to being spoken to in this manner. "I do not see 
what you mean, dear Dorian, please explain," I said in an icy tone of voice.

"Now, now, don't get excited," he chuckled, patting my hand. "I only meant that the Pope 
will go along with it, as long as it doesn't get out of hand!"

I smiled and relaxed at that. Unlike the Mother Superior who had ruled my life for so long, 
I was always able to keep my passions under control. I had little fear that I would go too far.

And so the terror began. I reached out with my powerful claws and drew my entire village 
into my web of fear. I sent the monks out and they returned with hundreds of people, all 
praying for mercy.

Ahh, the tools and methods I used. It was a sheer delight just thinking up what new 
devises I could create to inflict pain and gather the confessions of sin and wickedness that I 
needed.

One poor devil comes to mind with a delicious remembrance. His name was William and 
he was a mere boy of twenty. He had the unfortunate luck of wandering through the fields 
when my monks set upon him.

They tied him up and brought him back to our walls, struggling and fighting all the way. 
The moment I set eyes upon him, I wanted him. I wanted to hear his cries of agony and feel 
his shaft inside of me.

I took personal control of his torture. He was of course, accused of being a witch. Anyone 
that strayed from their homes, we reasoned, must have the power of Satan on their side to 
take such risks.

He stood before me in the torture chamber, clad only in a loin cloth, glaring at me with his
defiant eyes. I ran my own quickly up and down his lean, muscular frame and gave him my 
coldest stare.

"You confess, I assume, of your pact with the devil?" I hissed, spitting my words out at him.
"We know of it, so there is really no use in lying."

He laughed and shook his head. "Are you mad?" he hissed back at me, casting his eyes 
about at the others in the room. "I am a good Christian man, I have no deal with Satan, and I 
refuse to admit that I do! Torture me if you will, but I will never confess to something I have 
not done!"

"We shall see about that, young man," I growled, nodding to the two monks beside him. "I
have never failed to get a confession from a brother of Satan, you shall not be the first to end 
that record!"

Quickly the monks bound him to a chair. They slipped his feet into the large, square 
wooden boots and slipped the iron gloves over his hands. He stared at them, his lips set tight, 
his face impassive, but his eyes trembling with fear.

I nodded again and they began to turn the keys on the boots and gloves, tightening them 
down upon his limbs. At first, there was little reaction aside from nervous laughter from the 
boy, but soon, his lips drew tight and the sweat of his pain began to break out across his 
forehead.

He moaned when the first bones in his feet snapped. Then ail the tools began to crush him
and he began to scream in agony. He thrashed in the chair, fighting against all that held him, 
sobbing and jerking in pain.

"Do you confess, witch, do you admit your pact with Satan," I whispered, my lips close to 
his as I spoke. "All you have to do is confess and it will be over!"

"Dear God, in heaven, have mercy on me," he wailed, his voice high-pitched with pain, a 
piercing agony to hear. "I... I am not... am not a witch!"

The blood was streaming from the gloves and boots now, staining the arms of the chair 
and the floor. The young man screamed a bit longer, then shuddered as one of the monks 
tightened the screws even harder, causing him to lapse into unconsciousness.

I muttered in disgust, this was not what I had wanted. I ordered them to remove the boots
and gloves and carry his limp body over to the rack. His hands and feet were horribly crushed, 
never to be normal again, but I ignored the damage done to him, so eager was I to get on 
with it.

They quickly, strapped him to the rack, drew it taut and then threw water on his face to 
revive him once more. He groaned, thickly, his body shuddering as the pain from his crushed 
hands and feet throbbed incessantly.

"Leave us," I told the rest, then turned to him and smiled. "I have a personal plan for you, 
my fine young friend. Only you and I need know of it!"

I turned the wheels on the rack until he was gasping in agony, his arms and legs stretched 
to the point of tearing. His whole body was lifted in the air and I could see his flesh near the 
point of coming apart.

His tongue ran over his lips, desperately trying to wet them against the pain he was 
enduring. I chuckled softly and ran the tips of my fingers down over his chest, through the 
coarse hair of his belly to the thick patch that covered his groin.

"You see how helpless you are," I laughed, taking his limp penis in my fingers and 
squeezing it gently. "You are completely under my control. With a mere word, I can bring you 
death, or worse!"

I drew a long, sharp knife from my robe and placed the edge of the blade at the root of his
shaft. His eyes went wide with fear and he gulped frantically as I leaned the blade into his 
flesh.

"Dear Jesus, please, Sister, please, I beg you, don't," he gasped, the tears at last coming to 
his eyes. "You have crippled my hands and feet, don't take my manhood from me too!"

"Are you ready to confess, witch," I whispered, lovingly rolling his flaccid shaft back and 
forth between my fingers, feeling it growing hard under my caress. "Are you still defiant about
your pact with Satan?"

He gulped and shivered. "You have ruined me, you will kill me most likely anyway!" he 
hissed, the last of his anger surging up in him. "I... I can not do that, I can not! If you mean to 
cut my prick from me, then so be it!"

I laughed and shook my head, dropping the knife to the floor. "Ohh, my strong, young 
steed," I cooed lovingly, now pinching the thick, throbbing tip of his shaft between my fingers.
"I can wrest a confession out of you any time, that is not the plan I have for you, no, it is not!"

He did not understand me. His lips quivered and moved, but no words left his mouth as he
attempted to speak. He groaned softly as I continued to fondle his shaft.

"You see my little boy," I cooed, pumping my hand rhythmically up and down on his 
expanding tool. "I intend to see how much of a man you are!"

With that I parted my robes and dropped them to the floor. Though I was nearly forty by 
then, my body was trim and compact as any twenty-year-old virgin's. His eyes went wide as I 
climbed up on the table and straddled his head.

"I... I do not understand, Sister," he moaned, obviously confused as to what I required of 
him. "What... what am I going to have to do?"

"Foolish little man," I whispered, lowering my aching mound to his lips, kneeling on either 
side of his head. "What you must do is pretend I am dinner, and eat me!"

He could smell the womanly passion pouring from my loins and the heat of my need 
caressed his face as I pressed my loins to his mouth. I felt his cock throbbing insistently now, 
quaking violently in my fingers as I massaged it.

Hesitantly he slithered his tongue between his teeth and ran it up and down along the 
quivering lips of my womb. I gasped in delight as the white-hot shock of the contact raced 
through me, making my desire bum brighter in my pit.

"That's it my stallion, use your tongue and lips," I moaned, swaying back and forth, 
grinding my loins against his mouth. "Lick and kiss me, drive that spear of yours inside of me, 
now!"

I could not bear the pleasure of his mouth against my womb. He rode his tongue over the 
tiny button of my greed and I cried out as another harsh, stinging spasm of delight tore 
through me.

I could tell his mind was changing. He began to explore every inch of my quaking hillock 
with his tongue, kissing my slippery mound hungrily. I shuddered and groaned, mashing my 
womb hard against his eager mouth as the uncontrollable passion boiled in the depths of my 
loins.

"More, my love, more, yes, more," I groaned, feeling the awesome pleasure of his spear 
suddenly slithering beyond my cunt lips and burying itself deep in my womb. "Ahh, that's it, 
that's it!"

He groaned, the sound of his aching wants muffled by my womb. I felt his tongue riding 
swiftly along my inner walls and I bucked my womb hard against his greedy mouth.

He began to suck and lather my womb, chewing feverishly on my petals as I rocked my 
loins back and forth against his lips. I drove my fingers hard along the length of his stiff shaft, 
squeezing it greedily in my hand.

Faster and faster that marvelous dart rode my inner flesh. I sobbed with pleasure as it 
boiled hot and demanding in my womb and I could tell that this young man was going to 
service me better than I had been in a good long time.

My hand could barely keep hold of his shaft, now, as I twisted and turned it again and 
again against the throbbing prong. I thrilled the every enticing pleasure I received under his 
eager attack and I could feel the awesome orgasm building powerfully inside of me.

"Will you serve me, my steed," I moaned, tugging frantically now on his massive tool. "Will 
you do as I command, my son of Satan?"

"Yes, yes, I will, Sister, I will," he gasped, his head leaping up to gnaw on my flowing pit. "I 
will, ohhh, God, I will do anything, anything at all!"

I laughed in delight and drew myself back from his mouth. Gently I slithered my buttocks 
down over his belly, teasing his flesh with my own. I smiled warmly and rose above his shaft, 
positioning my thighs on either side of his hips.

"This will be pleasing to me, little man," I cooed lovingly, glancing down at the huge, 
throbbing weapon I still held tightly in my hand. "This will make me reconsider your case, 
provided you perform well."

I ached with wanting, and would have done anything, myself, at that point to get him 
inside of me. But I pretended an almost disinterest as I lowered myself around the tool, 
guiding it slowly toward my throbbing pit.

I sobbed in pleasure as I felt his shaft slithering up inside of me. His hard, quaking head 
pounded delightfully against my inner walls and his manhood seemed to fill my womb 
completely.

Slowly I lowered myself on the mighty prong. I groaned and shuddered, twisting and 
turning from side to side as I buried his cock to the hilt in my cunt and rested my buttocks on 
his thighs.

His prick fit snugly inside of me, as if my womb and it were a perfect match. I sat on his 
legs for a moment, just enjoying the sensation of his cock throbbing wildly against my inner 
walls, then slowly I drew myself upward again.

"Now, it begins, my steed, now it begins," I moaned riding back down over the huge shaft 
once more. "Ahhh, deep, deep and hard and good! Do well, my stallion, I urge you to do well!"

He had little choice but to obey me, but he was growing more and more excited now, his 
cock beginning to throb violently as I rode the thick spear. I loved how it quaked so 
powerfully inside of me, filling me with more pleasure than I would have imagined this little 
trick could create.

I bobbed up and down on the tool, swaying from side to side, grinding my ass hard 
against his thighs and using my inner muscles to urge him on. The poor young man could 
barely move, but he attempted to accommodate me nonetheless.

He thrust himself upward each time I came down upon him, driving the prick to the 
depths of my loins, thrilling my aching tunnel with its power and force. My cunt muscles held 
him tightly, kneading and massaging the shaft with every stroke.

Both of us were thrashing and sobbing under the wild, uncontrollable passion we were 
feeling. No longer was the young man merely doing as I wished, he was now as enraptured by
our coupling as I was.

My womb was burning with need, aching so badly that it brought tears to my eyes. I could
do little more than shudder and gasp, driving my cunt relentlessly down at his cock, shivering 
as the spasms of greed began to overwhelm me.

"Yes, that's it, yes," I groaned, driving my cunt against the plunging tool with a frenzied 
abandon. "God, ahhh, my stallion, yes, yes!"

"Mercy, Sister, I can not bear my pleasure," he wailed, not completely forgetting what I had
done to his limbs. "It is too good, so very good!"

Harder and faster I rode his mighty tool. It throbbed and pounded inside of me with an 
angry demand and I felt myself leaving everything but the pleasure I was experiencing, far 
behind.

I felt my loins tightening as if a drum and growing fiercely hot. I shuddered and moaned, 
grinding my buttocks down hard on his thighs as I buried his prick inside of me once more.

"Ahh, soon, soon I shall come, my fire horse," I whispered, flexing my muscles expertly 
around the pounding shaft. "Yes, soon to come so well, so nicely!"

I felt the urgent throbbing grow stronger in my cunt and then suddenly I was jerking and 
crying out, the spasms of delight tearing through me uncontrollably as my climax exploded in 
the depths of my loins.

I shuddered and gasped, thrusting his prick deep within my bursting chamber, feeling 
every delicious tremor tearing through me now. I bucked and slammed my body hard against 
his, totally in the grip of the passion I was experiencing.

I could feel his prick throbbing powerfully now, nearing the moment of exquisite agony he
was driving relentlessly toward. He groaned in pleasure once more, thrusting his prick into me
wildly as the sudden eruption burst in his loins.

"Ahh, Jesus, Sister, yes, yes," he cried, the hot come suddenly spurting from his tool and 
searing my inner walls with its creamy passion. "Coming, now, Sister, ohhh, God, I'm coming 
now!"

Both of us allowed ourselves to sink deeper and deeper into the tremors until there was 
nothing left for us but the pleasure we had sought. Again and again the come spurt from his 
tool, and the spasms quaked throughout my tortured tunnel.

On and on went our orgasms until finally I collapsed across his body, his cock still quaking 
inside of me, both of us weak and drained. The lingering tremors and spasms continued for 
quite some time, until both of us were totally empty of any desire or emotion at all.

Yes, I remember that victim. I remember him fondly, for he was one of the few that I 
released. He regained some use of his limbs, I am told, and eventually turned out quite well in 
spite of his handicap.

He is probably the only person I have shown mercy to in many a year, and I don't believe 
even he would pray for my salvation by now.



* * *



The terror I helped to create lasted more than a dozen years. Thousands were killed. 
Thousands more merely tortured and crippled beyond repair. I did a good job, by the time the
reign of terror was over, I was more feared than the king.

But all those who so smugly tortured and killed in Christ's name now must pay the final 
price. Bishop Dorian, now second only to the Pope himself, must pay the price, also. He did 
more damage than I could think of.

He recruited hundreds of informers and spies, urged them to turn their neighbors, even 
their families in. He too, must now pay the price.

And what of Bishop David and Bishop James? I smile at them, thinking now of how 
powerful and important they are. Soon they shall have more than their secret orgies and 
wicked passions to worry their minds.

There are so many, many others. I can only list them all. And so I shall. To this manuscript, I
will add my notes stretching back over forty years. There are many, many others indeed.


The End
