Feature writer: Norm DePloom
Feature title: The Chosen
Uploaded: ASSTR 5 January 2005
Story codes: Blasphemy, Sacrilege, Demonic, Religious, FF
Rights: Copyright (C) 2004 Norm DePloom. ALL Rights Reserved. This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached. All the characters and events in this story are fictional; any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.
Reaching out to Norm DePloom or anyone who knows his latest email address. I read this story in 2006 on ASSTR, it’s no longer accessible through their website (some error message comes up) – I kept a copy of it (as I do with all my favorite stories to read when offline) because I really enjoyed it. I have tried to reach you by email, but all the emails given on ASSTR bounce back – please contact me on email@example.com.
“Mother Margaret.” Sister Anne said in surprise when the door to her room opened.
“Sit on the bed, child.” Mother Margaret instructed, then sat down beside the younger woman as two more sisters entered the room carrying washbasins. Ann was startled when the Mother Superior put her arm around Ann’s waist in an unexpectedly casual and familiar manner. One of the other sisters sat on Anne’s other side while the other one knelt on the floor in front of her.
“Do you remember when you took your vows?” Mother Margaret asked as the other two sisters untied and unhooked the ties and hooks that held sister Anne’s habit in place.
“How could I possibly forget?” Anne asked. “It was the most important moment in my life.”
“Yes child,” Mother Margaret answered as she gently moved some of Anne’s wavy hair out of her eyes, “we all felt that way. Do you remember what happened at that ceremony?”
Anne reviewed the night she took her vows in her mind, trying to recall if anything unusual had happened.
“Don’t worry.” Mother Margaret said patting Anne’s knee. “Your not in trouble, this is not a test. That night you became the bride of Christ, you married God.”
“Yes,” Anne replied with reverence as she remembered the marriage ceremony that had marked her acceptance into the order.
“So,” Mother Margaret continued, “like the rest of us, God is your husband.”
“Yes,” Anne answered her voice reflecting the awe she felt when she contemplated being a ‘bride of Christ’.
“Husbands,” Mother Margaret continued smiling at the tone reflected in sister Anne’s voice. “Sometimes have, needs.” What, thought Anne as the other sisters continued loosening her robes, could God possibly need?
“And.” Mother Margaret explained as Anne’s robe slipped from her shoulders revealing her firm young breasts topped with large brown nipples and areolas. “Like all wives it is our duty and honor to satisfy those needs.”
The cool air, and the material of the rob sliding across them, left Anne’s nipples hard and crinkled. Her face turned bright red as she realized what ‘needs’ the Mother Superior was speaking about God having, Since she had been raised in the convent, Anne’s naivete new almost no bounds, but she did, having grown up in an agricultural area, understand the basics of sex and she had heard women speaking about men’s ‘needs’ in ways that had made it clear what they were speaking of.
“You have been chosen,” Mother Margaret continued, “for the honor of satisfying our husband’s needs tonight.” Anne felt hands smoothing her hair and gently caressing her back.
“I’m not worthy,” Anne said, her head hanging as she remembered her secret shame.
“We all felt unworthy the first time we were chosen.”
“I,” Anne said with a sob, “have secret sin in my life.”
Anne confessed thinking about the nights when she, alone and lonely in her cell, gave in to temptation and touched herself.
“Our husband knows our sins,” Mother Margaret said as she wiped a tear from Anne’s cheek then let her finger move down the young woman’s neck, “truthfully it is because of our sins that we are chosen.” All three of them laughed sympathetically at the confused look on Anne’s face.
“Stand up child,” Mother Margaret ordered.
Anne, trained her whole life to obey, stood up. Her robs fell from her body to form a pile around her ankles. All three of the sisters inhaled sharply as they looked at the perfection of Anne’s naked body. Anne placed one hand over her pubic hair and put her other arm over her breasts.
“No wonder,” Mother Margaret said as she reached out and ran her hand over one of Anne’s firm, muscular butt cheek, “our husband has chosen you, he could never resist perfection.”
The other two nodded in agreement as they also reached out to touch the magnificent naked body standing in front of them.
“Lower your arms,” Mother Margaret said, as she gently pulled the younger nun’s arm away from her breasts. “Do not be ashamed, it is because of your reviewed the night she took trying to recall if anything Margaret said patting Anne’s physical beauty as well as your spiritual beauty that you were chosen.”
Anne lowered her arms but couldn’t help blushing as the other women looked, and gently touched, her naked body.
“We must wash you and prepare you for our husband.”
Anne watched in disbelief as Mother Margaret and the other two nuns quickly removed their robes. Anne could not remember ever seeing another one of the nuns naked, nor had she ever been naked in front of any other person. Mother Margaret brushed Anne’s hair while the other two washed her arms and legs with large sea sponges.
“Spread your legs dear.” Mother Mary said softly as the nun kneeling at Anne’s feet reached the top of her thighs with the sponge.
The other nun, now finished with the arms, washed Anne’s breasts while the other one worked the sponge between Anne’s legs. Anne swallowed hard and silently prayed to God that she wouldn’t loose control and shame herself by moving her crotch against the invading sponge.
“It’s OK,” Mother Mary said speaking softly into Anne’s ear. “Our husband expects you to be ready for him.”
The Mother Superior was answered with a low moan from Anne whose body was inflamed not just from the sponges washing her breasts and vagina, but also by the soft breath of air in her ear as Mother Mary spoke to her. Mother Mary gently turned Sister Anne’s face toward hers then, placing her mouth on Sister Anne’s, gently pushed her tongue between Sister Anne’s lips. When Mother Mary pulled her lips away, Sister Anne looked down, her shyness sowing on her face.
“No reason to blush.” Mother Mary said as she lifted Sister Anne’s face by her chin and looked into her eyes. “We are all wives of the same husband and he expects us to show our love for each other.”
As each of the other two nuns finished washing her body they stood and kissed Sister Anne, each of them exploring her mouth with their tongues. As they kissed her, each of them gently cupped her breasts and moved their fingers over her hard nipples and crinkled areolas. Sister Anne moaned loudly, she could not believe that Mother Mary, her spiritual advisor, was encouraging her to experience feelings of lust that Sister Anne had always understood to be sinful. In the past she had always been ashamed by the ease with witch her vagina would burn with desire to be touched and the easy flow of sexual discharge that flowed from it.
“Come with us,” Mother Mary said as she led them from the room.
Behind Mother Mary the other two nuns walked one on each side of Sister Anne. The cool air in the hallway hardened all of their nipples as the four nuns walked, naked, toward the stone wall and the large crucifix that hung on it. When the arrived at the wall Mother Mary reached behind the crucifix and pulled on the lever hidden there. Sister Anne heard a soft click and the stone wall, which she had always assumed to be solid, swung open to reveal a stone stairway leading down into the dark. At the top of the stairway a small niche just inside the stone door contained one lit and four unlit candles.
Each of the nuns picked up one of the unlit candles and lit it from the one already burning. As far as Sister Anne could tell the stairs were not made of stone blocks but were carved from solid stone. With Mother Mary still leading the way and one of the other naked nuns in front of Sister Anne and the other behind her, the four nuns descended into the darkness as soon as the stone door was closed and bolted. Everything about the small chapel at the bottom of the stair seemed very ancient. The three nuns moved Sister Anne to the far end of the room.
“The Devil,” Sister Anne hissed. The stone figure seemed to move in the flickering candle light.
“No, my child,” Mother Mary said as the three nuns gathered around Sister Anne keeping her from dashing back up the stone stairway. “Our husband takes on many different aspects. This is the aspect he appears in when he desires to have his needs relieved.”
Sister Anne looked closer at the stone figure. Short curved horns grew from his forehead, his hair hung in ringlets, his arms seemed to reach out for her, his legs were the legs of a goat complete with hooves in place of feet, and the thing that held her eyes, a large hard stone penis jutting up and our from his crotch.
“Bless the Penis of God,” Mother Mary intoned as she leaned over and kissed the stone phallus. Each of the other two nuns followed Mother Mary’s and kissed the statue’s stone organ while ‘Bless the Penis of God’. Their soft voices and their insistent hands urged and moved Sister Anne into the proper position.
“Kiss our husband,” Mother Mary instructed pressing Sister Anne’s lips to the head of the phallus. “Bless the Penis of God.”
“Bless the Penis of God,” Sister Anne whispered after kissing the statue. Mother Mary picked up a small stone jar and after dipping her finger into the contents anointed the stone the stone phallus with a mixture of holy oil and belladonna.
“Approach our husband,” Mother Mary ordered. With the nuns assisting her, Sister Anne placed her feet on small stone steps on each side of the statue then placed her arms on top of the statues outstretched arms.
“Accept the blessing of our husband.” The three nuns chanted as the lowered Sister Anne onto the up thrust stone phallus.
Sister Anne could feel herself stretching to accommodate the penis of their husband inside her body. The nuns encouraged Sister Anne to lift herself partway off the penis then lower herself back on it again.
“Blessed is the Penis of God, and blessed is the Virgin Wife.” They chanted over and over as they supported Sister Anne and caressed her naked body with their hands.
After a few minutes Sister Anne could feel the spirit their husband enter her body and she seemed to be flying through the air balanced on the stone phallus. The statue’s penis seemed to come alive inside her, she could feel it growing warm as it twisted and pulsed in her body. Her clitoris was cradled, and stimulated by the junction of the phallus and the statue. Their husband seemed to have grown extra mouths, Sister Anne could feel him sucking on both of her nipples. A third mouth, much to her initial surprise and later to her great pleasure, seemed to be concentrating on her anus.
As Sister Anne flew through the heavens balanced on their husband’s large stone penis she orgasm’ed over and over. Her body moved up and down the stone phallus, as waves of orgasmic joy surged through her. The mouths sucking on her nipples and the tongue thrusting into her anus drove her to ever more intense orgasmic spasms. After what seemed like an eternity riding the penis of god, an eternity of religious and sexual ecstasy, Sister Anne became vaguely aware of the stone phallus being withdrawn from her body.
“No,” Sister Anne heard herself whimper, sounding like a voice from some far away world, “please don’t leave me.” Hands gently laid her on the chapel floor, then caressed her body.
“Don’t worry,” she heard Mother Mary’s voice talking from far away, “you’ll be chosen again.” Sister Anne felt lighter than air and seemed to be floating. She watched as stone walls and a stone ceiling moved noiselessly past her. As she floated the world slowly faded to blackness.
Sister Anne woke up in her bed, with her nightclothes on. After changing into her day clothes, she left her room and walked to the end of the hall. The stone wall certainly looked solid, and it felt solid no matter how hard she pushed on it. The crucifix was firmly attached to the stones and, no matter how hard she tried she could not slip her fingers under the crucifix and could not see any latch. Sister Anne left the mysterious wall and walked to the chapel for morning prayers.