NUN IN BONDAGE by Frank Brown

Feature Writer: Frank Brown

Feature Title: Nun In Bondage

Published: Page Design Copyright © 1998-2011, Mr Double, ALL Rights Reserved Stories Copyright respective authors.

Story Codes: Religious Fetish, BDSM

Author’s Notes: Immoral people capitalizing on the innocence of others to attain their goals — a story as old as man. The Bible, history books, law books — all contain examples. And when the innocent victim is young, the story is so much the sadder. The young nun in this book is the victim of immoral people. She finds herself caught in a web of depravity and perversion she never dreamed existed. And, after being forced to suffer one humiliation after another, she becomes little more than an animal, catering to the whims of those who should have protected this nun, but instead used her to satisfy their lusty desires. “Nun In Bondage” — the shocking story of an innocent young nun learning the sordid truth about human nature. A story with a lesson for our uncaring society.

Nun In Bondage

CHAPTER ONE

Sister Brigitte clung to the broiling roll bar above her head, her teeth clicking together with the more violent jolts of the engine-grinding jeep. A headache throbbed in her right temple, intensified by the bouncing of the jeep and by the relentless pounding of the Arizona sun on her veiled head. She’d never felt so hot, so wilted — so punished. What have I gotten myself into? she asked herself for the thousandth time since Father Michael had picked her up in the middle of nowhere and had begun spiriting her across the desert at a hundred miles an hour. The train had made a special stop to let her off, a stop countless, miles from any town. She hadn’t imagined that things would be quite this primitive, this harsh. Had she known, she might not have begged for this job, might not have begged to come here. What had she gotten herself into?

“Enjoying the ride, Sister?” Father Michael shouted over the maddening roar of the jeep.

Then he laughed, flinging his cigarette butt out onto the red dust of the rutted road–although road was an extravagant term for this buffalo trail, she thought. Sister Brigitte made no attempt to raise her voice loud enough to answer him. She simply attempted to smile–a sick smile, she imagined. Then suddenly she was choking, her lungs filled with acrid red dust, her eyes on fire.

She heard Father Michael curse. The jeep jerked, as if it had run over some railroad tracks, then abruptly skidded to a stop, its engine coughing. Sister Brigitte did her best to see through her tear-flooded eyes to discover what was going on. The dust burned in her eyes like acid.

Father Michael was jumping out of the jeep. The motor idled.

“Goddamned dust devil!” he mumbled as if to himself. He yanked a red handkerchief out of his right-rear jeans pocket and blew his nose into it loudly. Then he wiped off his forehead and shoved the handkerchief back in his pocket. “Came out of nowhere. Fucking dust devil!”

Sister Brigitte had never heard a priest use such language or such a tone of voice, but she felt too dehydrated and exhausted to feel much shock. She licked her cracking lips, tasting only salt. She could feel the hot wind sucking the moisture out of her.

“May I have some water, Father?”

The priest pulled a canvas-covered canteen out from behind his seat. He unscrewed its cap, then lifted it to his lips, dumping the water down his throat seemingly without even swallowing. Water trickled over his chin and down along his pulsing brown neck. He twisted the cap back onto the canteen and tossed it to her.

She caught it against her stomach as if it were a football, letting out a grunt of surprise and pain. The canteen was cold and heavy. She unscrewed the cap, using a great deal of effort to loosen it and to twist it off, then spilled as much water down her neck as she swallowed in her attempt to drink without pressing her lips tightly to the canteen mouth. Despite her attempt, she tasted metal and the man’s saliva, and she tried not to make a face. She handed the canteen back to Father Michael.

He tossed it back behind the seat.

“Gotta piss, Sister?”

“What?”

The grizzled man smirked.

“I asked if you gotta piss. This is our only pit stop between here and the camp. If you gotta piss, hitch up your skirts and hunker down now.”

“No thank you, Father.”

It was all she could get out.

Father Michael let out a sharp guffaw and backed away from the jeep.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

Sister Brigitte was about to ask the priest what he meant when she realized that he was unzipping his jeans in front of her. He hadn’t even turned away. He was going to urinate.

She stared straight ahead, trying not to watch him, but she could see him out of the corner of her left eye. Though she didn’t want to watch, she was watching, and it seemed there was nothing she could do to stop herself. She had never seen the sexual organ of an adult male, and her curiosity now was stronger than her sense of conscience. She watched him pull his large sausage-like penis out of his fly.

Penis? she thought. That wasn’t the right word for it. Dangling there like a blushing snake, hanging there and beginning to spurt a long yellow stream from its tip–a stream that hosed the red dust of the road — it seemed too primitive, too gross to be called anything but those filthy terms she’d heard vomited behind the closed doors of boys’ restrooms at some of the schools she’d taught at — prick, cock, dong, pecker, dick, wang. Why did she never forget such disgusting words once she had heard them?

Father Michael pulled on his prick, stroked his cock as if he were milking the teat of a cow. Heavy drops of piss dripped from its tip. Father Michael shook the heavy fuck organ, made his prick flop around as if trying to attract her attention with his cock.

She stared straight ahead, trying her best to display no emotion. The headache throbbed fiercely in her temple as her heart pounded harder. She closed her eyes and thought of the cool fountain in the convent garden at St. Anthony’s, wishing she were back there, wishing she’d never left there three days ago to come to this red desert to meet this priest who looked more like a cowboy than a priest, this priest who needed a shave and who smelled of sweat and who pissed in front of her.

“Hold on, Sister.”

Father Michael had jumped back in the jeep and was jamming down the clutch as he threw the shift rod into first gear. He revved the engine, his wild blond hair tousled by the wind, a lurid grin on his face.

“What is it, Father?” she demanded at last, exasperated by his unfathomable smirks.

The priest chuckled.

“They’ll eat you alive, Sister! Those randy young bastards will eat you alive!”

He let out the clutch, and the jeep tires churned away inches of baked red clay before the jeep shot ahead toward the looming red mesa in the distance.

Sister Brigitte held onto the roll bar, the wind madly trying to rip off her white veil, her headache pounding like the pistons in the engine of the jeep.

What have I gotten myself into? she moaned to herself. Where in the name of Jesus am I going?

xxxxx

Marcy was hauling her last bag of garbage to the galvanized garbage cans in the back of the boys’ mess hall when a dozen of the bastards surrounded her. She wanted to scream. Another thirty seconds and she would have escaped, would have made it back to the safety of the girls’ compound for another week. She detested Wednesday, the day on which she was on kitchen lunch detail in the boys’ mess hall. She always feared them getting to her, feared them surrounding her like they were doing now. The last time they’d gotten to her had been nearly a month ago. The odds had been stacked against her today.

So relax, she tried to tell herself. You knew they were going to get to you again sooner or later. You were half expecting it today. This won’t be the last time, either. So relax. Do what you have to do to survive.

The head boy’s muscular arms bear-hugged her from behind, his bare chest and abdomen heaving against her back, the smell of his sweat making her dizzy. He humped his loins at her ass. She could feel his enormous hard cock through the material of his shorts and her jeans. His huge bare foot fell on her naked instep. He scratched her instep with his dirty toenails, rubbed his thick dirty toes against her toes. Against her will, she was already going limp in his arms. As much as she hated to admit it, the boy turned her on.

A second boy, dressed like the first in nothing but a pair of torn and faded camp gym trunks, pressed up against her front, humping his cock at her belly, slobbering kisses all over her face. She could hardly breathe. They were smothering her, choking her with their garlic breaths.

Why spaghetti today? she asked herself. Garlic in the sauce, garlic on the bread, garlic in the salad. Why spaghetti today?

The other boys mobbed her, hands trying to get at her tits, tongues trying to lick her face, cocks trying to hump at any available part of her body. They would crush her to death. This would be her final ordeal at Mesa Youth Rehabilitation Camp–MYRK for short, like murk: dark and gloomy, like death. She closed her eyes and waited.

“Off, you pecker heads!” the leader shouted, nearly exploding her right eardrum. “Goddamn it, wait your turns!”

Air! Blessed air! Life! Marcy breathed deeply, smelling the desert wind, feeling the sunshine on her face.

The leader was still rubbing up against her backside, but the others had backed off.

“Let’s gang-fuck her on a garbage can,” one of the boys said. He was one of the younger boys, his voice girlish, just beginning to change.

“Yeah, let’s gang-fuck her!” another boy said excitedly, his words almost a whisper.

“No time,” the leader said, “Garbage detail’ll be around any minute to haul off these goddamned cans. We don’t wanna share her with garbage detail, do we? ‘Sides, old battle-ax Fran will probably be marching ’em.”

“Shit!” a boy said.

“We’ll take her to the church,” the leader said. “She can hear confessions.”

The rest of the boys muttered excitedly. Some of them chuckled.

As they led her to the church, sneaking her there the back way so as not to be seen crossing the open quadrangle, Marcy watched her bare toes clutch at the fine red dust. She’d make it now. Hearing confessions was like eating ice-cream compared to being gang-fucked, which was like being stretched on the rack.

As the leader shoved her into the priest’s box of the confessional, she saw the other boys already lining up for their turns in the penitent’s box. Except for one boy who was dressed in jeans, all the boys wore faded green gym trunks, the unofficial uniform of the camp’s boys. Even after being here a year, she found the sight of a dozen grubby, nearly naked boys a shocking vision in a church. Some of the boys had even folded their hands in mock reverence. One boy’s hard cock was protruding from the leg opening of his shorts. Marcy shut out the sight of the boys by shutting the confessional door behind her. She also flicked shut the small deadbolt lock, though she knew that any one of the boys could rip the door open if he wanted to, lock or no lock.

She took her seat next to the confessional window and pulled out the four tacks that held the white linen covering over it. The gauze-like linen square served a privacy function, hiding the face of the penitent from that of the priest, although not vice versa, for the priest’s box was illuminated by a small skylight, allowing the penitent in his dark box to see the face of the priest through the veil-like linen. Now, with the veil removed, Marcy looked at a dark hole at the level of her face, a hole of nearly a foot square.

Her first penitent entered the adjacent confessional box. She knew it was the leader of this group of boys, because the leader always went first. It was his right. She could see his nose, slightly oily, and she could see his flashing dark eyes in the darkness of the adjacent box.

“Have you sinned?” she asked. She felt like an ass, but asking the question was part of this sacrilegious ritual.

“Yeah,” the boy said, “I shoved my tongue up my ma’s asshole five hundred times. And then I fucked her five hundred more times with my big horny cock.”

“Stand for your penance,” she whispered, her heart banging, her guts rolling with anxiety.

Her mouth was watering already, watering so profusely that she had to swallow to prevent herself from drooling.

Shove it through! she begged silently. Let me taste it! Let me suck it!

You’re a whore! another voice in her mind taunted. A filthy little whore! You’re loving this. You’ve been waiting for this. You’re a hopeless little cock-sucker!

“Mmmm, yes!” she whispered, “Yes!”

The boy’s enormous cock, moist with sweat, came twitching through the confessional window. She could see his balls and part of his lower abdomen. She knew she’d never see a more exciting sight in her life, and she admitted to herself that all her mental hesitations and her dread of encountering the boys were simply ruses by the good-girl part of her mind, the hypocritical part of her mind. She loved naked boys. She loved sucking cock. Why fight it? Why pretend?

She kissed the swollen purple head of the leader’s stiff prick, thrilling to the silky-hot feel of his cock against her sensitive lips. She felt her lips swell and tingle, as if they were her cunt lips. She fastened her lips over the tip of the cock head, sucking gently, tasting a warm droplet of the boy’s fuck-lube. She heard the boy moan. His cock flexed, banging her hard in the nose.

She sat back for a moment, rubbing her nose and watching the boy’s hot prick quiver and twitch. She almost giggled. Thrills swirled through her pussy. It was the most beautiful sight in the world — a huge, erect cock, with big hairy balls pulled up tight at its base. His brownish sac was wrinkled, his plum-sized balls throbbing and rolling inside. She shoved her nose under the base of the boy’s cock and smooched each of his firm balls.

Then she lapped at his hairy sac, covering every inch of it with her wet tongue, licking down underneath the sac to get at the secret spot between the boy’s nuts and his asshole. She forced her head nearly through the confessional window so she could suck at that most-private spot, and the boy obligingly spread his legs to allow her access.

As she sucked the tender flesh under his balls, the boy moaned. When she moved back up to suck his cock, she discovered his prick pointing almost straight up at the ceiling, the veins along its splitting-hard cock shaft puffed out and ready to burst, its swollen prick head ready to pop off, fuck-lube bubbling out of its gaping piss-slit and sliding like thick tears down the underside of the quivering prick shaft.

“Oh, beautiful!” she whispered, “So sexy!” And his cock was long, seven or eight inches. And his prick was fat, and so hard!

She began to lap up and down its underside, its skin silky and hot under her tongue. When she reached the strand of tender tissue just below the backside of the cock head, the big prick bucked, banging up against the confessional wall. She glued his cock to the wall with her parted lips, churning her tongue madly at the pleasure-strand, which she knew was the most sensitive part of any boy’s cock. The boy groaned, mumbling, humping at the open window, fucking his cock up and down between the smooth-varnished wall and Marcy’s sucking lips.

Without warning, his cock began to shudder with orgasm. Spurts of hot cum shot straight up, some of them sticking to the confessional wall above the window, some of them splatting down on Marcy’s forehead and nose. Taken by surprise, Marcy didn’t know what else to do but to continue pinning the boy’s spurting, fucking cock to the confessional wall while sucking and tonguing its pleasure-strand.

The big cock throbbed under her mouth and chin, spurting again and again. Cum was all over–in her eyes, on her nose, leaking down the wall, trickling down the boy’s cock and dripping off his pulsing balls. And the boy was grunting like a young bull, humping at the confessional window, squirting his jism with abandon.

When he finally stopped shooting, Marcy sucked the jism off his cock, licked it off his balls, kissed the head of his cock and let him pull it, half hard and slightly hanging, back through the window. She heard the snap of the elastic waistband of his shorts, and she knew he’d pulled them up.

“Nice job,” she heard him whisper, then he was opening the door of his box.

Marcy quickly licked the sweet-salty trickles and gobs of his cum off the confessional wall, licking her lips and smacking them. She couldn’t think of anything she’d rather eat. She could survive on his prick-juice if she wanted to.

You filthy bitch! a voice inside her head said. You deserve everything you’ll ever get around this hell on earth!

Damn right, she answered the voice. And I’ll love all of it. All I want is cock–it’s all I care about. So there!

She was able to sit back and listen to these two voices battling within her, and she wondered why one or the other of them just didn’t shut up forever. She preferred that the good-girl voice vanish — at least at this moment she did. But she knew that once she got back in the girls’ compound she’d probably be siding with the good-girl voice again, feeling guilty for what she’d done because, even though she’d been forced to do it, she’d enjoyed it. With all these hot cocks around her, she couldn’t help herself.

I’m a whore, her bad-girl voice said. I’m a filthy little slut. And I love it–love it!

The next boy had entered and was ramming his cock at her face. This cock, the same size as the first boy’s, was different in that it was uncircumcised, its fat prick head half capped by a meaty foreskin. The sight of the uncut prick excited her so much that she almost forgot to ask the boy the required question. She was beginning to peel the skin back off the red cock head when she remembered.

“Have you sinned?” she whispered into the window.

The boy pulled his cock back and shoved his face down at her, grinning luridly. “I bit off my little sister’s clit.”

Marcy winced s “And then I fed it to my little dumb-shit brother. And after he swallowed it, I kicked him in the balls.” He giggled and stood back up, thrusting his sweaty cock back through the confessional window.

Marcy grabbed his hot cock and began to jack his prick, peeling the moist foreskin back and forth, off and on the cock head. She thought of what the boy had just said and decided he’d made up the story. But then, maybe he’d really done those things. You could never tell about the boys at Mesa Camp.

Some of the boys were mean enough to have done things like that. Some of the confessions they would make to her today, and had made to her at other times over the last year, were undoubtedly actually true, but how could she tell which ones?

The boy was bucking his loins, fucking his cock in and out of Marcy’s pumping hand. His foreskin, lubricated inside by the fuck-lube that oozed out of his cock, slipped back and forth easily, making squishing noises. Marcy looked closely at the prick as she jerked on the cock shaft, her nose almost touching its open piss-slit, her eyes crossed. The smell of his prick was more pungent than the smell of the first boy’s cock. She’d always noticed that about uncut cocks–they smelled stronger.

The fat prick head ballooned, nearly splitting open. She opened her mouth and swallowed the entire uncapped cock head, holding his prick in her mouth so she could enjoy the salty taste.

The boy was gasping. She imagined him dancing on his bare toes. His prickhead throbbed in her mouth, oozing fuck-lube.

“Mmmmmm!” she moaned, giggling to herself. Delicious! And so hot and sexy! She sucked the cock head, twirling her tongue around, cleaning his prick. She probed the outline of the head — mushroom shaped on its topside and arrow shaped on its backside. Then she wiggled her tongue into the gaping piss-slit, rimming its hot edges, licking down into it a half inch.

“Wow!” she heard the boy say. “Man!”

She released his cock head from her mouth and slipped the head-skin back over his prick head. Then she wedged her tongue under the elastic head-skin so she could lick it out. Keeping the foreskin capped over the head with her right hand, she wiggled her tongue underneath. Slowly, she worked her tongue around the entire cock head, stimulating the prick head itself and stimulating the sensitive inner folds of the foreskin. The boy was grinding his hips at the window, moaning as if she were torturing him.

Suddenly, she jerked the skin off the cock head, pulled it down tight along the hard prick shaft, and swallowed half his cock in one had-sucking gulp. At the same time, she churned her wet tongue mercilessly at the boy’s pleasure-strand.

“Oh, wowww!” she heard the boy gasp. “Shit!”

His cock shuddered in her mouth, flexing so hard that his prick lifted her head and stretched her neck. A flood of hot jism gushed from his piss-slit and splashed against her tonsils. She gagged from the suddenness of the flood and from its force. Before she could swallow, a second burst of sweet cum exploded into her mouth. The boy was whimpering.

She smacked her lips around the rhythmically swelling and flexing cock, sucking the prick head and half the cock shaft, digging the tip of her tongue into the quivering pleasure-strand under the prick head. The boy whined, spurting one load after another as his cock spasmed. She swallowed the hot cum hungrily, greedy for all she could get. Her cunt ached, pulsating, her pussy slabs swollen around the strangling center-seam of her jeans crotch. She wound her legs around each other and began to squeeze rhythmically with her thigh muscles. She rubbed her hot ass against the wooden confessional bench.

Before she could bring herself off, the boy pulled his dripping and rubbery cock out of her mouth, whacked her with his cock across her left cheek, withdrew his prick through the window, and padded barefooted out of his confessional box. She was still swallowing his sticky cum, still savoring the taste of it.

It’s not fair, she thought. I wanna come too — but with a big hard spurting cock in my mouth! Those bastards always want you to make them feel good, but they don’t give a damn about you. Once their peckers come, it’s to hell with the girl.

The next boy bounced into the booth. He was one of the younger ones. She could tell because of the way he moved and because of the excited way he was breathing. He rammed his cock through the window almost before he’d shut the confessional door behind him.

She was right. The boy’s cock was about five inches long, quivering like an arrow that had just struck its mark, and completely hairless. His ball sack was smooth and pink, with a set of balls that resembled jellybeans throbbing inside. His cock head was purple, however, just like the cock heads of the big boys.

He rubbed two brown hands along the edges of his crotch, caressing the sides of his nutsac.

“Suck my pecker!” he whispered, “Go on, suck it!”

Marcy placed her hand on his smooth little abdomen and pushed him back.

“Have you sinned?”

The kid bent down, pushing his sneering young face half through the window.

“Yeah, I sinned. I jerk off six times everyday — sometimes more.”

That one I believe, Marcy thought, watching his face disappear and his pecker reappear. The flushed young prick twitched like the tail of an excited beagle. Marcy swallowed every inch of his cock, her lips pressed against the boy’s hairless groin, her throat undulating against his prick head. She bobbed her head six times, her cheeks sucked in, mouth-fucking the young boy’s randy cock, feeling its hot head kiss her tonsils. On her sixth down-suck, the boy exploded into her throat, his cum squirting against her tonsils like hot piss.

“Ahhh!” the boy gasped, “Ooooh!”

His cock squirmed in her mouth like one of those small desert lizards. He pumped out no less cum than had the first two boys.

She was so fascinated by the quivering life of the boy’s spasming cock that she completely forgot her own desire to satisfy herself. By the time she got around to squeezing her legs together, the boy was jerking up his trunks and bouncing out of the booth like a giddy puppy.

She wiped a trickle of cum off her chin, licked the cum off her wrist, and awaited her fourth confessor.

She sucked off four more boys in rapid succession before she decided to take a break and to push down her jeans. She peeled the jeans down to her ankles, sniffing the aroma of cunt juice which suddenly filled her confessional box. She hoped the scent didn’t escape out into the church or she’d have to endure that gang-fuck yet. Not that she didn’t like to fuck — it was just that a dozen hard cocks in a row could send a girl into shock.

She straightened up, burping up the taste of cum. How much had she swallowed so far? More then a cupful of it for sure. Some slick fuck-juice dribbled out of her cunt onto the varnished confessional bench, and she rubbed her ass in it, feeling sexy enough to prance out into the church and invite that gang-fuck she had so dreaded. She pushed the jeans off from around her ankles with her feet, and she shimmied her naked legs together, squishing her pussy lips between them, rubbing her feet against each other, wiggling her toes.

“Hey, bitch, what the fuck you waiting for?” said the owner of the big cock that was throbbing through the confessional window. He sounded like an older boy, and his cock was the biggest of the day — at least eight inches long and very thick.

She kissed his cock, squeezed his prick, then whispered up through the hole.

“Have you sinned?”

“No,” he said, “But I’m going to commit murder if you don’t start working on that dingus of mine.”

Marcy immediately placed one hand on each side of his cock and rolled his prick vigorously between them, working her hands back and forth as if she were a girl scout twirling a stick to start a fire. The boy’s cock swelled, its purple knob ballooning, its piss-slit gaping.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “Feels real good.”

She grabbed his heavy balls and massaged them, continuing to work on his cock with one hand. At the same time, she rubbed her legs together fiercely, trying to bring herself off.

The boy humped, thrusting his cock.

“Suck it! I wanna feel something hot and wet around it!”

Marcy got up on the bench. Standing in a bent-over position, she reached behind herself and grabbed the boy’s jerking cock. He wanted something hot and wet wrapped around his horny prick so that was what she was going to give him. But that hot wet thing wasn’t going to be her mouth. She’d done enough sucking. Now it was time to satisfy her pussy. She backed up her ass to the window.

smacked the boy’s cock head against the throbbing wet meat of her cunt, and impaled her cunt on his cock head. The boy did the rest. Moving instinctively, he fucked his cock up her cunt to the very hilt. Marcy came instantly.

“Ohhhh, God!” she whispered, her entire body shivering, her ass on fire, her cunt walls contracting like a set of hot hands, “Oh, my!”

She rammed her shuddering ass back into the window, hoping it would get stuck in the square opening and prevent her from falling forward off the bench. The bench was slippery under her bare feet, greased with her cunt-juice. She was trembling so hard she could hardly keep her balance. Her mind swirled as the hot sensations of orgasm gnawed through her loins.

She managed to remain on the bench. Her orgasm was petering out when she realized that the boy was fucking his cock inside her almost too fast for her to tell the in-fucks from the out-fucks. He was fucking toward orgasm, his big cock squishing inside her cunt so loudly that she was sure all the boys on the outside could hear it. She tightened her cunt, clamping the walls around his fucking cock in hopes of bringing him off faster.

“Fuck me!” she whispered to the grunting youth, “Come on, baby, give it to me! Cream me, honey! Oh, quick!” She knew boys liked to hear a girl talk like that, so she gave it all she had. At the same time, she enjoyed talking like that. It gave her a thrill to talk like that. “Come on, you big horny hunk, blast me!”

The boy exploded inside her, his big cock flexing, her ass shuddering from the force of his orgasmic eruption.

The spurts drilled her cunt, almost tickling her. Her cunt lips felt as if they had swollen to an enormous size. Her pussy began to tingle inside once more, the old hot itch returning — the old ache. She wanted to come again. She churned her ass, screwing it on the boy’s fucking cock. She felt the sex knots tightening in her loins. The boy yanked his cock out of her.

She wanted to scream! Always when she was getting set to come the boys did that to her–deserted her.

Oh well, she consoled herself. I’ve got three or four more hot cocks on the way. That’s good for a few more orgasms.

She left her hot ass pressed up to the window, the last boy’s cum leaking out of her throbbing cunt. She heard the next boy enter the confessional. As she awaited the fucking of his big hot cock into her body, she found herself trembling uncontrollably. When the boy pushed his cock into her cunt, she came almost instantly.

CHAPTER TWO

The mesa, which had looked like a moderately high table of red and ocher rock and clay standing up out of the flat floor of the desert, turned out to be a flat-topped mountain of seventy square miles in area. A narrow road had been carved out of the only face of the mesa that was inclined rather than perfectly vertical. On the way up the road, Sister Brigitte had no chance to worry about the steep drop-off to the left of the jeep–Father Michael’s side. She was too busy scouting the rock wall to the right for falling stones. Father Michael had warned her to keep a sharp lookout–or they might both end up with caved-in skulls.

To Sister Brigitte’s amazement, the groaning, coughing jeep made it to the top of the mesa, and she sank back in her seat with a sigh, letting out a breath she’d been holding much too long, feeling her nearly cramping muscles relax. She was so relieved to still be alive that she almost laughed. However, she was allowed to relax only a second or two.

“Hold on, Sister!” Father Michael shouted. Then he gunned the engine and they were charging again, every joint and rivet in the jeep groaning from the strain.

Sister Brigitte clung to the roll bar with blistered hands, sure that every internal organ in her body was shaking loose. The jeep bounced through a rut in the trail, and she bit her tongue. She almost prayed that the jeep would break down so she could have a rest.

Five minutes later, just as they were entering an area of shrubbery and trees, she got her wish. The right front tire hit a rock head-on and exploded. Sister Brigitte was thrown from the jeep. She found herself rolling like a sack tossed off a laundry truck, her habit twisting and flapping around her like a mass of dirty rags.

She rolled to a stop at the base of a scrubby tree, her lungs heaving like they never had before. She was aware of the hard blue sky, aware of the jeep motor roaring, then going dead.

“You’re all right,” Father Michael yelled. “But we’ve got trouble. Flat tire, damn it! It’ll take me awhile to change it.”

She heard him banging steel against steel, apparently collecting the tools necessary for changing the tire. By the time she sat up, resting her back against the tree, the priest was shoving a jack underneath the jeep’s front axle. He’d removed his shirt, and now was dressed only in jeans and high boots. As he backed his way out from under the jeep and stood up, she noticed the enormous muscles of his back and shoulders, noticed his rich brown tan. For a moment she forgot her bruised body and her cracking throat. For a moment she found herself gawking at the large man next to the jeep with a sense of awe. A tremor passed through her body at the moment that Father Michael whirled toward her.

“Make yourself comfortable, Sister. You’ve got a good half-hour to wait.” He scratched his blond head, revealing a bushy-haired armpit, showing her his flexing muscles. The muscles of his abdomen appeared to dance. His pectoral muscles seemed to quiver.

Sister Brigitte found her heart thudding, found her breath rushing in with a sharp gasp. Her face flushed with heat, she struggled to her feet.

“How far yet to the camp?” she asked, looking up the road. She didn’t want to look at this crude and obscene man more than she had to.

“We’re on camp land,” he answered. “This whole top of the mesa is camp land. The compounds are another three miles from here.”

“Oh? Well, then perhaps I’ll walk the rest of the way. I’m accustomed to long walks during my daily prayers.”

The priest chuckled. “Sister, I’ll have this tire fixed before you get halfway there.

Besides, you might get lost.”

“Not if I stick to the road.”

“You might get eaten. The animals around her are wild.”

“Father, I really would enjoy the walk! May I, please?”

“Ha!” The priest let out another of his infuriating guffaws. “Sister, you stick around here till I get this tire changed. And that’s an order! You understand me?”

“Yes,” she said, furious, but trying to chuckle as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “May I at least browse around through the trees, perhaps find myself some decent shade?”

The man picked up a steel bar. “You can go twiddle with your clit, for all I care. Just come running when I hit the horn.” He turned around and rammed the end of the bar into the hydraulic jack.

Shocked by the priest’s obscene remark, and fed up with his vile attitude toward her, she wandered off into the trees — if one could call these scrubby, shrubby plants trees. She hadn’t walked more than thirty yards when she discovered the land descending. Suddenly, she found herself walking out onto some rocky bluffs, a small valley below her. To her disbelief, a small stream flowed through the valley, a stream flanked in places by willows and a few cottonwoods — real trees. Compared to the rock and clay and cactus she’d been looking at for the last several hours, this little stream valley was the garden of Eden.

Dare she try to descend to the river? Did she have time before Father Michael began screaming at her with his horn? Could she get down there without breaking her neck? Sunlight flickered off the stream’s ripples. It was worth the attempt, she decided.

She began to move along the edge of the bluff, looking for a place where the land became less steep, a place where she could descend. The bluff seemed to maintain a sheer drop-off for some distance. Perhaps she wouldn’t be able to find a way down. After walking a little farther, she decided to take a look straight down from the edge while standing, so she got down and crawled to the edge on her hands and knees, her habit skirt hiked up to her waist. At the edge, she lay on her belly, then peered down.

Perhaps the height–although it wasn’t great–was affecting her mind. Perhaps the sun had finally fried her brains and she was hallucinating as a result. Perhaps the devil was sending her visions to tempt her. Whatever, the scene down below at the base of the bluffs just couldn’t be real. It was impossible. She stared down upon the scene in shock, suddenly aware of the voices of the people down below. She could hear them clearly despite their being fifty feet below her.

“Let me into that hot cunt!” one of the four boys said, falling down onto his knees.

There he knelt, pounding his heavy red cock against the hairy slabs of a pinned girl’s pussy.

Sister Brigitte could hear the slapping, thudding sounds of heavy wet cock meat against dense wet cunt meat.

The girl lay on her back on the dusty ground, her legs jackknifed so that her body formed a sharp V, her ass being the apex of the V. A naked boy sat on her face, grinding his ass crack and balls against her nose and lips, holding her feet in his hands and biting on her toes. Two other naked boys knelt on the ground at her sides, their asses resting on their heels, their cocks fucking in and out of the girl’s hands. The boy who was at the girl’s naked ass pounded her cunt a few more times with his cock, then rubbed its length up and down the inflamed wetness of the girl’s cunt-slit.

“Mmmmm, hot pussy meat!” the boy said. “I’m gonna fuck it!”

“Fuck it!” one of the other boys said.

“Hey, let me taste them toes,” said one of the boys who was fucking the girl’s hands, and he grabbed her left ankle and yanked her left foot to his open mouth. The boy sitting on her face maintained his grip on her right foot and continued chewing and sucking on her right toes.

The boy at her ass got into a semi-pushup position and jammed the end of his twitching cock between her cunt lips, making his entire purple cock head disappear between the hairy cunt slabs.

“Ah!” the boy sighed. “Mramra!”

The girl’s body shivered, and Sister Brigitte heard her whimper.

The fucking boy fucked forward, burying all of his cock into her, grinding his hairy young groin against hers.

“Wowwww!”

The girl’s body jerked. She squirmed.

The fucking youth, his body bridged between his hands and his knees, his back arched and his bushy sun-bleached head thrown back, fucked his big cock in the girl like a stud puppy mounted on a bitch. All the long muscles of his bronze body stood out, tense and quivering. His toes clutched at the orange-red clay. He grunted as he fucked and fucked and fucked, making the girl whine into the ass of the boy who was sitting on her face and munching on her right foot.

“Fuck that baby!” said the boy on the girl’s right. He had hold of her forearm and was jerking her hand faster and faster on his cock, “Fuck that smelly cunt hole!”

The boy who was riding the girl’s face and chewing on her right foot used his free hand to beat the meat of his huge jutting cock.

The boy on the left, licking the girl’s foot and sucking on her toes, ignored his own cock, letting his prick throb freely in the sunny air. At times the big rod of cock meat flexed hard and whopped against his brown abdomen. At times his prick shivered, oozing fuck-lube, which was flicked off into the dust as his cock twitched.

The boy with his cock in the girl’s cunt writhed as he fucked his cock in and out, screwing his cock in circles, grinding his pelvis at the girl’s ass. His skinny ass cheeks danced, bounced, shivered. The muscles along the sides of his spine writhed like twin snakes. He was grunting, gasping, moaning.

“Oh, Jesus, she’s hot in there! It’s like a mess of hot worms around my cock! Oh, wow!”

“Shit!” the boy riding the girl’s face said. “Oh, shit!”

He tossed his bushy head from side to side and began to spurt, his big cock jumping on his brown hand, his excited ass grinding down on the girl’s face. His thick white gobs of jism shot everywhere, all over the girl’s belly and tits, into the red dust beside her, onto the rippling abdomen of the youth fucking the girl’s cunt.

“Jesus Christ!” said the fucking youth, and then he was shooting too, fucking his hot cum into the girl’s body, his head thrown back and rolling, his ass jerking as he fired again and again.

“Feels so good!” he moaned. “Ahhhh!”

The girl whimpered, her body shivering all over.

“She’s coming!” gasped the boy sucking the girl’s left toes, “Oh, Jesus, she’s a hot mother!” The girl’s toes were wriggling as he licked at them.

Just as the boy riding the girl’s face was oozing the last of his jism from his cock, the boy to the girl’s right started to grunt. With the girl’s trembling hand wrapped around his cock, he wiggled his ass against his naked heels as he shot his jism all over the girl’s arm and tits.

“Oooh!” he moaned. “Ahhh!”

His skinny ass made spastic jerks as he fired round after round of white jism.

The boy mounted on the girl’s cunt finally pulled out and sat back in the dust, stroking his big cock as if trying to rub an itch out of his prick. The boy on the girl’s face got off and sat on the ground in imitation of the first boy.

At last Sister Brigitte could see the girl’s face. She was a long-haired blonde, her face wet and flushed, her mouth open as she tried to catch her breath.

The boy to her right started wiping up gobs of cum with his hand, transferring the sticky wads from her bare skin to her mouth. She sucked the thick cum from his brown fingers. He cleaned his cum off the girl, feeding her all of it.

“Here’s some more,” said the boy who had fucked her.

He wiped the face-sitting boy’s cum off and, crawling over the girl, rammed his dirty fingers into her mouth and fed it to her. Then he lowered his abdomen to her mouth so she could lick it clean. At last, he shoved his cock into her mouth, making her suck off the cunt juice and cum that were frosting his prick.

The boy who hadn’t come yet, pushed the fucker off her, popping the boy’s cock out of her mouth in the process. The young fucker just laughed as he toppled half onto the boy at the girl’s right. The boy who had been fallen upon, pushed the fucker away. The boy who wanted the girl now, the boy who hadn’t yet shot off, rolled the girl over, then yanked her up onto her hands and knees.

The other three boys, lounging in the dust, rubbed their balls and snickered. Then they pulled lazily on their big cocks while their companion fucked his throbbing prick into the girl.

“Ah!” the stud on the girl said, “Mmmm! She does feel like a mess of hot worms inside!” he plunged his cock in her a half-dozen strokes, “Oh, God, yeah!”

The hot stud banged his tight lower belly at the girl’s wiggling ass, fucking his stiff cock in and out of her, grunting and drooling on her ass.

The other three boys lay back and watched him, all three of them pounding their young meat in unison. Their three lean young bellies danced as their abdominal muscles squirmed and quivered under their cellophane-thin belly skin.

Sister Brigitte could no longer feel her headache. The throbbing that filled her head had now overwhelmed her headache. It was a throbbing that was part of the generalized throbbing throughout her entire body. She imagined that the throbbing could be heard for miles, imagined that her hot breathing was as loud as the heavy breathing of a dinosaur.

“Fuck that bitch!” one of the masturbating boys down below shouted. All three of the boys lay back with their brown legs spread, their right hands pumping up and down their vertical cocks, their supple bellies heaving, their grubby toes wriggling.

“Bang that bitch ass of hers!’ another yelled.

“Yeahhh!” moaned the boy mounted on the girl, his head nodding from side to side, his big hands jerking her ass back and forth against his pounding loins, his cock fucking in and out of her cunt. “Mmmmm, momma!”

Sister Brigitte’s crotch sizzled, hot juice gushing out, her swollen cunt slabs throbbing with an ache and an itch that made her want to whine. She found herself rubbing her swollen tits against the baked clay and rock upon which she lay. Her nipples were stiff and tingling. She rubbed them madly against the slightly rough material inside her habit. She clamped her thighs together and shimmied them against each other fiercely.

She hadn’t felt this hot since her early teens, since before she’d entered the convent. A memory darted through her mind; she was riding bareback on one of her uncle’s horses. Her cousin, Jerry, the same age as she, rode bareback with her, his arms around her, his shirtless belly pressed against her back. As they bounced along, she began to feel something hard pressing against her jeans-clad ass, and then Jerry was humping against her, his breath hot on her left ear, giving her the chills. She giggled with nervousness, and, as Jerry rubbed harder and faster against her, she became wet between the legs and her head began to throb, and in a short time Jerry was moaning, his cock was pulsating against her ass, and she knew he was coming and she groaned and suddenly she was coming too.

The girl down below snapped her head back, arched her lissome back, and moaned, her ass shuddering. The boy mounted on her fucked his loins at her shuddering ass, then suddenly collapsed on her, rounding his back and whimpering as he pumped his cum into her spasming body.

“Woww!” gasped one of the masturbating boys, and suddenly he was spurting thick gobs of hot jism all over his belly. The other two boys pumped their cocks a dozen more times, then exploded in unison, squirting thick white ropes of cum into the air, which splashed down on their bellies.

Sister Brigitte felt the tips of her toes tingle. Her crotch became tight and swollen, like a hot-water balloon on the verge of bursting– and then it did burst, her loins filled with hot, itching, gnawing sensations that made her nearly pass out. She writhed on the stone bluff, biting her fist to prevent herself from crying out.

The kids down below all grunted and moaned and muttered with complete and shameless abandon until their orgasms had spasmed out. After the fucking youth had dismounted the fucked girl, he forced the girl to crawl over each of the other boys and lick their spurted cum off their bellies. The three boys all lay with their heads pillowed in their hands while their slave girl cleaned their muscles with her pink tongue. When she’d finished, the youth who had most recently fucked her, grabbed her by the ears and impaled her face on his cock, forcing her to suck the cum and pussy-juice off his hanging cock. Then he turned around on his hands and knees and forced her to lick his ass crack.

“Hey, that looks like fun!” said one of the other boys, and within seconds he and his two jack-off buddies were up on their hands and knees with their asses waving in the air. One of the boys farted, and all the boys laughed.

Sister Brigitte couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Was there no end to these kids’ shamelessness and perversion? She looked down on the river valley, saw the naked girl on hands and knees, young tits hanging and swaying, saw the girl being forced to lick the filthy ass cracks of each boy in turn. She heard the boys’ dirty laughter, heard their obscene remarks, watched them stroke their cocks and resume beating off as the young girl shoved her tongue up their assholes and licked them out.

“Ohhhh, baby, suck that ass!” moaned one of the boys. “Eat out my shit hole, you teenage slut!”

The other boys mumbled hotly and chuckled, wiggling their round asses and waiting for more of the girl’s tongue.

“My Lord!” Sister Brigitte whispered. “My Lord!” This was no garden of Eden she was looking down upon now; rather, it was the pit of hell. She pushed herself away from the edge of the bluff, forced her aching body to stand, then staggered up the hill toward the trees.

When she was halfway to the jeep, she heard Father Michael’s horn tear through the silence like a jet-fighter, and she began to run, stumbling over the rocky ground. By the time she reached the jeep, she had tripped and fallen three or four times.

CHAPTER THREE

The buildings of Mesa Youth Rehabilitation Camp were long, squat, stucco affairs which resembled army barracks. A few adobe buildings of ocher-colored clay broke the monotony of the glaring white which the stucco buildings were painted. All buildings had red-tiled roofs.

An open quadrangle separated the girls’ compound from the boys’ compound, and at the far end of the quadrangle stood a small but stately mission-church. Sister Brigitte made the sign of the cross as Father Michael roared the jeep toward the center of the quadrangle, thankful for the cool sanctuary of the church directly ahead of her.

Father Michael braked the jeep near the middle of the quadrangle, then leaped out, scattering a group of savage-like boys in faded green shorts who had been gathered there. The boys trotted off in all directions, then whirled back toward the center, standing all about thirty feet from the jeep, arrogant sneers on their adolescent faces.

They were all staring at her, Sister Brigitte realized, and she tensed up.

One of the boys whistled and catcalled.

“Shut your trap, prick head!” Father Michael yelled without bothering to turn around to look at the boy who had whistled and shouted. “I hear anymore wise-assing and Mr. Wise-ass is gonna join his buddy here!” The priest stood over a completely nude body who was staked out on the ground in a spreadeagled position. “Enjoying yourself, Parks?” he asked the spreadeagled youth.

The boy turned his head away, ignoring the priest.

“I bet you’ve been going crazy waiting for me to get back — huh, Parks? You just can’t get enough of the leather, can you, prick head?”

The boy let out a sound that Sister Brigitte interpreted as a moan of disgust.

Father Michael suddenly spun back toward the jeep, and within seconds had snatched a four-foot-long leather strap from behind his seat. He walked back to the boy, raised his arm, and let the strap crack across the boy’s muscular chest, leaving behind a red welt from one brown nipple to the other.

The boy’s body jerked. Sister Brigitte winced, shocked beyond belief. And the two dozen or so boys watching gasped, then giggled uneasily among themselves.

Father Michael thrashed the boy again, this time across the abdomen. Then, in rapid succession, he let fly a dozen more lashes, leaving the boy’s dark skin lined and crisscrossed with a pattern of inflamed welts. The boy gasped with pain, his body jerking, then passed out just as the priest finished flogging him.

The other boys became dead silent. Sister Brigitte was speechless, her lips trembling.

This can’t be happening! she repeated over and over silently. This is a bad dream. I’ll soon wake up from it.

She had never in her life imagined such brutality–and from a priest yet!

The boy stirred, his eyelids fluttering. Father Michael nudged the boy’s cheek with his boot. “Come on, Parks!”

The boy’s eyes opened. He groaned, twisting his head.

Thank God! Sister Brigitte thought. At least he’s alive.

Father Michael stepped over the boy and stood facing the jeep. He glanced at Sister Brigitte, a demonic smirk on his grizzled face. Then, giving her a wink, he unzipped his fly, hauled out his huge rubbery cock, and began to piss on the boy, showering the boy’s throbbing welts with the hot, acidic fluid.

The boy screamed, his body writhing, piss making his skin shine.

Father Michael finished pissing, stuffed his cock back in his jeans, and strode back to the jeep, dropping the leather strap in Sister Brigitte’s lap. He looked around at the other boys, scowling, then threw the idling jeep into reverse, backed away from the naked whimpering youth, and steered the jeep in the direction of the fenced-in girls’ compound. He drove slowly, craning his neck to look at the staked-out boy. The other boys had surrounded him and were pissing on him. The tortured youth’s cries echoed in the still desert air. The priest laughed, laughed harder, became almost hysterical.

xxxxx

Sister Brigitte sat on a folding chair in the blessed shade of a small room, the Mother Superior’s office. A dry hot wind carried the close and distant shouts of boys and girls in through a window which looked out on the central quadrangle, which was separated from the building she was in by a high chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. A blonde girl sat on another folding chair next to her. The girl sat before a typing table and a small black typewriter. She typed with two fingers and did a lot of erasing and cursing each time she had to erase.

“Oh, to hell with it!” the girl said at last. She pushed her chair away from the table, turned it toward Sister Brigitte, and relaxed back with her legs spread so wide that Sister Brigitte thought the girl would strain her inner-thigh muscles.

Shockingly–but less shocking than some of the things Sister Brigitte had already witnessed this afternoon–the girl wore almost nothing. The tiniest of bikinis covered the more indecent parts of her anatomy. The yellow halter consisted of hardly more than a few string-like straps with tit cups that allowed all of her tits to show except for her large cherries — and even then, the upper halves of her purplish cherries peeked out. Her panties were strings at the hips and a narrow strip of material at the crotch.

The girl’s cunt slit was covered, but more than half of her kinky yellow pussy hair was visible. As the girl spread her legs, the crotch of her panties pulled up tight into her cunt slit, allowing Sister Brigitte to see almost all of the girl’s swollen cunt slabs. The thin ribbon of panty-crotch was wet, and the musky odor of the girl’s fuck-juices rose in the air of the small room.

Sister Brigitte looked away with embarrassment, her gaze falling on the girl’s tanned left foot. The girl’s sensuous toes flexed and extended slowly, performing an obscene dance.

“You know, you’re kinda cute,” the girl said.

Sister Brigitte, stunned by the remark, looked up to see the blonde girl smiling at her. The girl licked her lips.

“Pardon me?” Sister Brigitte asked.

“You remind me of the flying nun–Sally Fields–you know, kind of pixyish.”

Sister Brigitte didn’t know what to say. She’d watched The Flying Nun when she was young, and, as much as she hated to admit it, that television character had influenced her own decision to become a nun, and more recently had influenced her decision to leave her quiet little convent back east for this place, where she hoped her work would at least be a simulation of missionary work in the field.

The girl raised her right foot, toes pointed, and shoved it at Sister Brigitte’s face. The girl’s big toe caressed Sister Brigitte’s lips. Then she lowered her foot.

Sister Brigitte was trembling. One shock after another was driving her closer to a nervous breakdown.

“What is the meaning of this?” she whispered at the girl.

The girl giggled.

“Oh, come on now, Sister–don’t play dumb!” The girl stood suddenly, grabbed Sister Brigitte’s head — veil and all — and shoved the swollen mound of her crotch toward Sister Brigitte’s face.

At that moment the doorknob turned and the door into the office began to open.

The girl pushed away from Sister Brigitte and lunged toward the door, grabbing the knob and whisking it the rest of the way open.

“Oh, Sister Frances! I was just coming to look for you! Sister Brigitte here is getting impatient waiting!”

A large nun who resembled a professional female wrestler stepped into the room. Hands on her hips, she looked first at Sister Brigitte, then at the girl, her nostrils flared as if she were sniffing the air.

“Leave us, Sharon,” she said to the girl, her voice husky with authority. “Go do your exercises. After I’m finished with Sister Brigitte you may return and finish your work in here.”

“Yes, Sister,” the girl said, and she left the room.

Sister Frances closed the door and faced Sister Brigitte. “So, my dear, you’re our new recruit. Welcome to Mesa, dear.”

xxxxx

Sharon went to the exercise room, although she wasn’t in the mood for sit-ups. Not that she needed sit-ups anyway–she was all muscle, all nicely shaped female muscle, all sensuous curves, smooth and tanned. She wondered how Sister Brigitte was built under all those white rags. How big were the new nun’s tits? Did she have a sexy round ass? What color was her kinky cunt-hair? Was she a virgin?

The new nun was a young one — early twenties — fifteen to twenty years younger than Sister Frances. Sharon wondered why the young woman had chosen to come here. Maybe she hadn’t chosen; maybe she’d been sentenced to this desert prison. Maybe the young nun wasn’t as innocent and naive as she looked. Maybe she’d been naughty. Maybe they’d caught her sucking off some schoolboy’s horny cock or some schoolgirl’s itchy young cunt.

Sharon sighed, feeling a rush of tingles in her wet cunt at the thought of the new nun sucking pussy. Damn that Sister Frances, interrupting them just when things were starting to happen. But Sister Frances always knew when to show up. She had a sixth sense, an intuition — the jealous old whore!

The door opened and a girl as blonde as herself walked in. Due to the intense sun, which bleached their hair to the color of sun-ripened wheat, almost every girl in the camp was blonde — waist-length blonde. And almost every boy was blond too — shoulder-length blond–although some of the boys displayed mops of hair down to the middles of their backs.

The girl hesitated when she saw Sharon, then took a step backward as if she were going to leave.

“Where are you going?” Sharon asked.

“I’ll leave,” the girl said, “Sorry for interrupting you,” she smiled weakly, a fake smile.

“You’re not interrupting me, honey. Come on in. I was hoping one of you young cunts would come by to keep me company.”

The girl closed the door behind her, swallowing nervously.

“Let’s rub tits and cunts,” Sharon said. “Take off your clothes.”

She reached behind her back and untied her bikini halter with a deft tug. The halter floated to the floor like a ribbon. She pulled off her panties with one hand, almost jumping out of them as she leaned gracefully forward and slid them down her long brown legs.

“Mmmm, that’s so much better. I just hate being strangled to death in all those hot clothes.”

The other girl had pulled off her T-shirt and was now pushing down her jeans. Sharon wrapped her arms around the naked girl as the girl straightened up. She ground her big hot nipples at the younger girl’s tits.

“Oh, Marcy, honey, you’re such a little turn-on!” She humped her hairy cunt mound against the younger girl’s, feeling itching throbs between her legs, feeling a few trickles of hot juice ooze from between her swollen cunt lips and start to leak down the tingling flesh of her inner thighs.

The younger girl gasped as Sharon squeezed her and rubbed against her, but she stood there passive and unresponsive for the most part. Sharon liked girls who held back, girls who found lesbian sex somehow repulsive.

“What’s the matter, honey? You act like you’re not having that much fun?” Sharon covered the girl’s lips with her mouth and shoved her dripping tongue down the girl’s throat.

The girl gagged. Sharon drooled into the girl’s mouth, forcing her to swallow saliva and more saliva. Sharon bit the girl on the neck, then pushed her away. She lay down on the gray mat in the center of the small exercise room and spread her legs.

“Come on, little bitch, eat big momma’s juicy snatch!”

The young girl, looking sick, crawled between Sharon’s legs, her pretty tits hanging, and pushed her nose down toward Sharon’s crotch like a sniffing hound. Sharon grabbed the girl’s blonde hair and mashed the girl’s pretty nose into the juicy flesh of her hairy crotch. The girl gagged again. Sharon ground her throbbing crotch against the girl’s face.

“Eat that cunt! Suck out that juice! Come on, you little turd, I wanna feel it!”

Small munching sounds came from between Sharon’s legs. She felt the girl’s warm tongue slither between her swollen cunt slabs and begin to explore her pulsating cunt-chamber. She leaned forward, almost sitting, and wrapped her arms around the girl’s head, crushing the girl’s face against her crotch.

“Mmmm, baby girl, eat my horny bitch cunt! Yeah, yeah!” She humped at the girl’s face, scouring it with her wet, kinky bush.

The girl was moaning, fighting for breath, her blue eyes bulging, her face purple.

“Lick it out, bitch!” Sharon growled. “Eat it up!”

Whimpering, tears welling in her eyes, the girl tore into Sharon’s cunt with her teeth, chewing on the hairy pussy slabs. At the same time, she twisted her tongue inside Sharon’s hot pussy, and she sucked so hard that Sharon thought for a moment that her cunt would turn inside-out.

“Oooooooh!” Sharon moaned. “Ahhh! Baby! Coming!” Her ass bucked on the gym mat, cunt juice leaking out of her pussy, her cunt spasming around the young girl’s fucking tongue. She felt the sensations in the tips of her nipples and in the pit of her asshole as well as in her cunt. The moment she was done spasming, she shoved the girl away.

The young girl collapsed face-down on the mat, whimpering and gasping for breath. Her face was plastered with Sharon’s cuntjuice. Blonde cunt-hairs stuck to her lips.

Sharon, recovering from her orgasm, stroked the girl’s face with her toes, getting her brown toes gooey with her own sticky-slippery cunt ooze. Then she forced her frosted toes into the young girl’s mouth, making the girl suck them. The feel of the girl’s hot sucking lips around her toes caused her cunt to contract and renewed her lust. She yanked her toes out of the girl’s mouth and shoved the girl’s face with the sole of her foot.

“Up on your hands and knees, bitch!”

The young girl groaned, pushing herself up to the position Sharon demanded of her. Her long hair tumbled forward, sweeping across the gray mat. Sharon crawled up behind the girl for a taste of some luscious pussy.

“Jesus, you’re juicy!” Sharon said, rubbing her fingers in the slick goo between the girl’s parted blonde cunt lips. “Shit, it’s like somebody dumped a cupful of honey on your twat.” She pressed her lips to the girl’s twitching cunt slabs and sucked up some of the fuck-juice. Then she shoved her tongue inside the girl. Juice ran out of the girl, dripping from Sharon’s chin. She withdrew her tongue, savoring the taste.

“You fucking little whore! There’s more than girl-juice running out of you.” She smacked her lips, savoring the alkaline taste mixed with the tart taste of cunt. “All right, baby, who injected the boy-juice into you?”

The girl was shaking as if she expected Sharon to beat her. “They got me, Sharon. A whole gang of them. They caught me when I was taking out the garbage behind the mess hall. It wasn’t my fault.”

Sharon smiled as she listened to the girl’s story, imagining a whole tribe of those adolescent male animals surrounding the helpless young girl, their tusk-like cocks twitching with savage lust, their young faces flushed and leering.

“And they gang-raped you in the dirt in back of the mess hall, huh? Oh, you hot little bitch!”

The girl was shivering. “They did it in the church,” she said. “They made me hear confessions and then they did it to me through the confession window.”

“Fucked you? Made you suck their sweaty cocks?”

“Yes,” the girl said. “It was horrible.”

“Poor thing!” Sharon said. “Poor little cunt!” As she said the word cunt, she rammed the middle finger of her right hand into the young girl’s gaping fuck hole, feeling the hot cunt walls surround and suck at it like a hot mouth.

The young girl gasped, her naked female ass twitching spontaneously, her pink toes clenching.

Sharon pistoned her finger savagely. The girl’s cunt quivered around her finger. Sharon yanked her finger out, then replaced it with three bunched fingers, fucking the three fingers in and stretching the girl’s cunt hole. She twisted the bunched fingers inside the girl, then withdrew them and added to them the last finger of her right hand and her thumb. She forced five bunched digits into the girl, screwing them in up to the knuckles.

“Oh God!” the girl gasped. “Oh, please!”

Sharon could feel a pulse-beat inside the girl. She twisted her hand and slowly fucked all of it into the young girl. The girl’s cunt had swallowed her entire hand. Making a fist, Sharon fucked her hand into the girl as far as it would go. The girl’s stretched cunt lips clung around Sharon’s forearm a few inches up past her wrist.

Her hand and wrist felt as if they were being boiled in oil. The girl’s cunt writhed inside, seethed, pulsating, fluttering. The girl twisted her head from side to side and snapped it back and forth. Her back was arched and her gut sucked in. Sharon imagined that she could lift the girl into the air by simply raising her cunt-swallowed hand.

Every cell of her body appeared to be vibrating. “Ohhhhh!” she whined. “Ohhhh, Godddd!”

Sharon twisted and contracted her fist inside the girl. The girl’s pink ass pucker bulged from the pressure of Sharon’s fist in her cunt.

What a pretty little shit pucker! Sharon thought. How luscious it looks!

She shoved her face between Marcy’s ass cheeks and sucked the bulging ass pucker into her mouth. The pucker twitched between her lips. She probed it with her tongue, then twisted her tongue up inside the girl’s hot shit hole.

“Ohhhhhh!” the girl whined. “Awwwww!” Her cunt contracted so hard around Sharon’s fist that Sharon thought she was going to lose her hand. The young girl’s body seemed to become a mass of explosions inside. Her hot shit hole sucked hard at Sharon’s twisting tongue. “Eeeeh!”

Sharon twisted her fist inside the spasming girl, her entire arm vibrating from the force of the girl’s orgasm. When the girl suddenly passed out, Sharon caught her to keep her from crashing down, then eased her fist out of the girl’s cunt before letting her body collapse prostrate on the mat.

Sharon licked the cunt juices and boy-cum off her fist and wrist. Then she lay between the unconscious girl’s spread legs and sucked at the hot wet lips of the girl’s overstretched cunt. The young cunt was still dilated the size of a silver dollar. Sharon licked and nibbled at the edges of the open fuck hole, savoring the meaty, salty taste, delighting in the rubbery texture of the girl’s young pussy meat. The young cunt closed slowly, regaining its elasticity.

Hot and tight! Sharon thought, wishing for a moment that she were a guy with a big hot cock to shove inside the girl. Then, still sucking the unconscious girl’s cunt, she began to beat herself off.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sister Brigitte sat in her room, looking down upon the rear grounds of the girls’ compound. Except for the intrusion of the ugly chain-link fence–which hemmed in the girls’ compound, running its entire perimeter–the view she enjoyed was scenic and peaceful. Beyond the fence were a few hundred yards of rocky ground and beyond that a grove of trees. Over them, the sky glowed a bloody red in the ripe dusk. Below her window was a stone-walled pool, a fountain into which water trickled from a small rocky waterfall. Her elbows on the windowsill, she rested her heavy head in her hands, the trickling sound of the fountain making her drowsy.

Over near the fence the two black Dobermans slowed their patrolling to glance up at her. She tensed a little, not liking the look of the two police-trained animals. The dogs were put out to patrol inside the fence of the girls’ compound each evening after curfew whistle, she’d been informed, but Sister Frances had assured her that the huge Dobermans were nothing to be afraid of, that the dogs were put out at dusk for the protection of the girls and the nuns, and that if she wished to take a walk around the compound after dark she would have nothing to fear from the dogs. The dogs were trained to attack only intruding boys.

One dog lifted its nose in the air as if sniffing at her, then turned away and resumed its trot along the fence. The other followed. When they were out of sight, she sighed, untensing her shoulders.

She wondered how she was going to get that boy past those two killer dogs. She had keys now to the front gates of the girls’ compound. She could easily sneak the boy in through the gates, along the fence and around four buildings, then into the backyard of her building and up the back stairway to her relatively isolated room. She could do these things easily if those two black Dobermans would allow her to. Perhaps they wouldn’t attack the boy if she shielded him with her body. But she had no way of knowing. She’d have to take that chance, however, because the boy would surely contract pneumonia lying out there naked in the quadrangle all night–if he didn’t die outright of exposure. Nights in the desert could be brutally cold, Sister Frances had mentioned.

The sky was fading now from red to a silvery orange. Her ticking alarm clock on the nightstand next to her bed read eight-ten. She’d wait till nine at least before she made her attempt to rescue the boy. She hoped the moon would not come up later tonight, at least waiting until after she ventured out into the quadrangle for the boy. She leaned back away from the window and fingered the round switch of the lamp next to her, debating whether she should flick on the lamp so she could read or whether she should sit here in the near-darkness to watch the stars come out. She never had to make that decision.

“Let me go!” came a girl’s high-pitched protest.

“Shut up or we’ll throw you over the fence to the real animals,” commanded a huskier, more mature girl’s voice.

Sister Brigitte slid more to the side of the window so she could see without being seen. She thought she recognized the second voice, although she could have easily imagined that.

Three girls appeared near the fountain– three stark-naked girls with shimmering bleached hair down to their lower backs. The two larger girls were dragging the smaller girl by the arms. The larger girls resembled muscular Amazons, their huge tits wobbling as they pounded their bare feet in the dust and yanked the resisting younger girl toward the stone-walled pool of the fountain.

They’re going to drown her, Sister Brigitte thought. No, maybe they’re just going to give her a bath.

The older girls forced the younger girl to take a hands-and-knees position on the raised fountain wall.

“I hate you both!” muttered the young girl. “You bitches!”

The two older girls laughed. Then one of them whacked the young girl across the ass with the flat of her hand. The young girl jerked, cursing.

“Quiet down!” commanded the girl who had slapped her. She rammed her stiff middle finger between the protesting girl’s ass cheeks and twisted it up into the girl’s asshole.

The young girl gasped. “Oh, don’t, don’t!” She was panting.

“Then shut your little trap!” The older girl popped her middle finger out of the young girl’s shit hole and offered it to the other older girl, who promptly sucked it into her mouth and licked it clean.

“Delicious, Sharon,” said the girl who had sucked off the other girl’s middle finger.

And Sister Brigitte recognized the leader of this little group as Sister Frances’s private typist, the girl who had behaved so shamelessly in Sister Frances’s office this afternoon.

“You bet your boobies,” Sharon said. “These little chicks have assholes as sweet as sugar cookies.” She rammed her wet finger up the young girl’s asshole again, then yanked it out and plunged it into her own mouth. “Ain’t that right, Cissy?” she asked the young girl, sucking the girl’s ass juices from her finger.

“Go to hell!” muttered the little girl.

The older girls laughed. “What are we gonna do with this baby chick’s bitchy little mouth, Jennifer?” asked Sharon.

“Maybe we ought a wash it out,” Jennifer said, and she let out a low whistle.

The two Dobermans appeared instantly, leaping like black ghosts along the fence, then sliding to an excited stop next to the fountain and the three girls. They trotted restlessly back and forth, tongues hanging from their chops, snouts sniffing the girls’ bare asses and crotches.

Sharon leaned forward slightly and shoved her ass up in the air. “Lick it, Baron,” she said, and one of the dogs shoved his snout between her ass cheeks and slurped up and down her ass crack.

Next to her, Jennifer arched her lissome back, turned up her sexy ass, and told the other dog, whom she called Rex, to do the same to her. The second Doberman growled a little as he lapped at the girl’s ass crack.

Sharon reached back and grabbed Baron by the collar, then pulled him up onto the stone wall in front of Cissy.

“Hold still and keep your trap shut or I’ll have Baron bite off your tits,” Sharon ordered Cissy.

The young girl shivered, whimpering quietly as Sharon lifted Baron’s front legs and forced his wide front paws onto Cissy’s upper back. The big dog started to pant, his tongue hanging out and dripping. He danced his hind feet closer to the girl and started to thrust his suddenly erect prick at Cissy’s little face.

“Open your mouth and suck that slippery prick before he fucks it up your snotty little nose,” Sharon said.

Still whimpering, Cissy let the dog-prick slide between her young lips. She gagged as the big dog fucked his long thin cock in her mouth.

The other dog started to whine, shoving his snout up close to the girl’s mouth and sniffing the other dog’s randy, mouth-fucking prick.

“Get Rex up on her ass,” Sharon told Jennifer. Sharon was squatting on the wall behind Baron, toying with his wiggling balls as he humped at Cissy’s mouth.

Jennifer tugged at Rex’s collar until she got him up on the wall behind Cissy. Then she had to yank him growling up into the air when he started to lick at Cissy’s exposed ass and cunt.

“Come on, you dumb mutt,” Jennifer said, panting. The dog nearly fell off the wall before she got him mounted properly on Cissy’s ass with his heavy paws gripping her tiny waist. But she had no need to teach him what to do next.

The big dog gave a sharp yelp and fucked his hard dog-prick straight up Cissy’s waiting cunt. Cissy jerked, letting out a girlish yelp of her own.

“Fuck that little bitch,” Jennifer said, stroking the dog’s long back as he fucked his slippery cock in Cissy’s cunt.

Sister Brigitte heard the blood rushing through the capillaries in her ears. The air around her seemed to have become so stifling that she could hardly breathe. She didn’t know whether to scream or to run or to dive out the window. This was the most disgusting, most perverted thing she’d ever seen–worse than anything she’d ever have been able to imagine. Was this the king of nightmares? Or had she died and been cast down into the lowest pit in hell? Her fingernails clawed at the windowsill. She was aware of a fire between her swollen, throbbing cunt slabs.

Worst of all, she realized–even worse than the scene she was witnessing–was that she was becoming unbearably excited watching it. Just as she’d become excited while watching those four bestial boys assault that naked girl this afternoon, now she was panting at the sight of a young girl shivering under the rutting onslaught of two enormous black dogs, their naked dog-pricks fucking her mouth and her cunt while they slobbered dog-drool on her naked back. Sister Brigitte wished she could turn off the sinful and perverted excitement she was feeling, but she couldn’t–she was helpless, as helpless as was the young girl being fucked by the two grunting, growling Dobermans.

Sharon and Jennifer sat on the wall behind the two fucking dogs–Jennifer behind Rex and Sharon behind Baron. Both girls spread their naked legs and planted their bare feet in the dust. Each girl toyed with her dog’s balls with her one hand and masturbated herself with her other hand, fucking her stiff middle finger in and out of her open cunt.

“Mm, feels good,” Sharon said, licking her lips and twisting her middle finger in her juicy cunt.

“I could do this all night,” Jennifer moaned, fucking her finger furiously in and out of her pussy. Then she leaned over and started to lick Rex’s flapping dog-balls.

Rex whimpered, humping faster into Cissy’s young cunt.

Sharon leaned over and started to suck on Baron’s huge black balls, twisting her nose against the Doberman’s puckered ass entrance. “Mm, I love the smell of a stud dog!” she mumbled, and she licked and sucked all around the stud’s jiggling balls.

Baron whimpered, his claws cutting into Cissy’s smooth upper back. He fucked his dog-cock in and out of the little girl’s mouth furiously, ramming even its hairy sheath between her pink lips. Cissy continued to whimper, gagging periodically, but Sister Brigitte could hear sucking sounds coming from the little girl’s mouth, and she realized that the young girl, either voluntarily or reflexively, was sucking the Doberman’s thin slippery cock.

Lord help her! Sister Brigitte prayed.

The young girl smacked her lips, sucking, whimpering.

Rex leaned forward, his hairy paws gripped around Cissy’s skinny waist, his hard claws buried in her tender flanks. His tongue hung down long, nearly tickling the girl’s spine. He was panting, his hairy loins jerking as if powered by an engine, his sizzling dog-prick fucking in and out of Cissy’s cunt like a red-hot piston. Cissy’s naked young ass twitched, rotated, quivered. Her small tits jiggled beneath her chest. She began to bang her ass back into Rex’s humping loins.

“Mnnnn!” Cissy moaned. “Mnnnnnn!” Her mouth filled with dog-prick, her cunt pokered with more dog-cock, she began to respond as if she’d lost control of herself, as if her will and her self-respect had been overwhelmed by the sensations of pure lust. She was humping now herself, she was fucking and sucking, and her entire little body jerked and quivered as if she couldn’t get enough of the feelings she was experiencing.

Sharon drove her tongue into Baron’s pulsating shit hole. The big dog yelped, his loins shuddering. She twisted her tongue madly inside the big dog, at the same time twisting her middle finger mercilessly inside her own cunt. Her tits appeared to have swollen, their nipples protruding like stiff fingertips. Her toes clawed at the dusty ground.

Baron whined, his black snout held high, his loins shuddering rhythmically. Cissy gagged, dog-cum drooling from her lips.

“Swallow it!” Jennifer ordered in a drunken tone. “Or you’re gonna lick it up later! Swallow that doggy jizz!” She sucked Rex’s entire ball sack into her gaping mouth, moaning drunkenly as she finger fucked her dripping crotch.

Rex let out a sharp growl, then whined. His hairy loins shuddered and he squirted his dog-jism up Cissy’s cunt.

“Oh, Rex!” gasped Jennifer, her eyes wobbling. “Oh, baby, shoot that stuff up her smelly little twat! Uhhh!” Her nose twisting against the spurting Doberman’s ass pucker, her tongue lapping at his pulsating balls, she trapped her thighs around her finger-fucking hand and writhed with orgasm.

Cissy came next, her naked little body vibrating from nose to toes. As dog-cum spurted down her throat and up her cunt, her own flesh convulsed with spasms and she moaned almost painfully.

The moment Baron finished with his orgasm, he dismounted Cissy’s face and leaped off the fountain wall. His silvery cum dripped from Cissy’s chin. Sharon immediately took the dog’s place, hopping up on the wall and squatting down over Cissy to mash her dripping cunt against the younger girl’s mouth. She clung to Cissy’s head, grinding her cunt against Cissy’s face.

“Suck me off! Eat me out! Quick, oh God, quick!” Sharon gasped. “Come on, little bitch, bring me off!”

The little girl slurped at Sharon’s lust-inflamed crotch, whimpering as Sharon yanked on her ears and hair. Cissy munched so loudly that she sounded to Sister Brigitte like a pig at a trough. Sharon came within seconds.

“Oooooh, baby! Yeaaahhh! Mmmmm!” Sharon danced on the stone wall, jerking her spasming crotch at Cissy’s helpless face.

Rex jumped off Cissy’s ass and Jennifer flopped back on the wall. Immediately, Baron went over to lick Jennifer’s exposed crotch while Rex jumped back up on the wall and sniffed at the cunt he’d just squirted his jism into.

Sharon dismounted Cissy’s face and almost leaped over the girl to push Rex away from Cissy’s cunt. Then she crawled up behind Cissy and shoved her face against Cissy’s dripping crotch.

“Yummy!” she said after she’d licked and sucked awhile. “Oh, God, this is hot stuff!. Dog-cum fresh out of a little slut’s itchy cunt! Mmm!”

Sister Brigitte passed out. For the first time in her life, she feinted. When she awoke, the clock read nine and all was quiet in the yard below. Between her legs she was sopping wet.

CHAPTER FIVE

She said a quick prayer of thanksgiving, grateful that her sense of outraged decency had caused her to faint before she’d been overcome by orgasm. For a few moments she wondered whether she hadn’t indeed dreamed the entire perverted scene between the three girls and the two dogs, and that now, instead of having just awakened from a faint, she’d actually awakened from a nightmare. But, looking down at the fountain, she saw puddles of water and wet footprints on the wall of the pool–footprints both of human feet and dog paws–and she knew with a sense of certainty that the scene had actually happened. While she’d lain in a faint, the girls and the dogs had apparently gone for a quick dip in the fountain.

She pushed her head out the open window and listened. Only the sound of the water trickling into the pool and the sound of crickets trilling. Far off, the sound of boyish laughter. The boys in their compound hadn’t yet settled down for the night. She wondered if any of them were prowling around out in the quadrangle, for they had no fence surrounding their own compound and could easily come and go as they wished.

She’d asked Sister Frances this afternoon why the boys were not fenced in as the girls were.

“Do you really think a fence would contain those young animals?” Sister Frances had answered, a tone of amusement in her voice. “My dear, they’d get over the top in seconds, barbed wire or no barbed wire. They’ve invaded our compound enough times for me to be sure of that. That’s why we put out the dogs at night. Without those dogs I’m afraid we’d need armed guards. Our own fence, my dear, is as much to keep the dogs inside as to keep the boys out.”

“And what keeps the boys from running away?” Sister Brigitte had asked.

Sister Frances laughed. “My dear, I’m charmed by your naivete.” She stroked Sister Brigitte’s cheek, her fingers lingering near Sister Brigitte’s lips. Sister Brigitte had had the strange feeling that the older nun was going to lean forward and kiss her. “We have fifty miles of desert on all sides of us,” she continued. “The boys wear no shoes and have no way of obtaining them. Even the youngest of our delinquents has enough horse-sense to know he’s not going to make it across fifty miles of rocky desert barefooted. But there’s more to it than that.” She smiled knowingly.

“More to it?”

“They love it here,” Sister Frances said. “What more could a couple hundred wild boys want but a place to run wild?”

Sister Brigitte shivered from a sudden chilliness in the air. She pulled her head back inside her room and lowered her window until it remained open only a few inches. She hoped those couple hundred wild boys had chosen tonight to go to bed early. If they were prowling in the quadrangle, she’d have no chance to get to the boy staked down at its center. She had a sudden vision of the boy staked out on the cold ground while two hundred boys drowned him in their piss, and she shivered again. Then she took a deep breath, tried to block all thoughts from her mind, and slipped out of her room into the vacant, dimly lit hallway.

Her room was in a rarely used wing of one of the lesser-used buildings. That was fine with her–she needed her privacy, especially tonight.

She slipped down the nearly dark steps of the back stairway, then opened the door into the yard and stepped out into darkness. The sky was slightly silvery yet, and she could see its silvery reflection in the fountain’s pool. She walked to the fence, then began making her way along it in the direction of the front gate.

The two dogs were at her side before she even heard them. They glared up at her, their eyes silvery, their tongues hanging, their panting breaths like whispers. She swallowed, trying to keep her fear from showing.

“Good boys,” she said, gingerly stroking the dogs’ huge black heads.

The dogs flanked her silently, letting her pet them. When she lifted her hands off their heads, they trotted on, disappearing like shadows into the darkness along the fence.

Sister Brigitte blew out her breath with relief and moved on.

She opened the front gate without any problems, her key sliding into the heavy padlock like a cock into a lubricated cunt. She pushed the gate open, latched it securely behind her, then darted into the darkness toward the center of the quadrangle, her head throbbing in time with her pulsebeat. She stumbled a few times before she reached the boy, then tripped over one of his legs and rolled in the dirt for the second time today.

The boy groaned, muttering.

She crawled up to him, stroking his hot face. “I’m here to help you,” she whispered.

“Huh?” She saw the boy’s eyes glinting with the very last of the twilight.

“I’ll untie you. Then come with me.” She began to work at untying the rope around his right wrist.

Hey, you’re a nun,” the boy mumbled. “Christ, a nun!”

“Shh! I’m here to help you.” She tried not to breathe. The scent of piss was enough to choke her.

The boy let out a sound that sounded like a chuckle. But it can’t be a chuckle, she thought. How could anybody laugh in his condition?

She got him loose, dragged him to his feet, then braced her shoulder under his arm and stumbled with him back to the gate. Inside the gate, she got him halfway back along the fence before the two Dobermans appeared, growling and baring their teeth.

“Jesus Christ!” the boy groaned.

Sister Brigitte held out her hand toward the dogs, keeping her body between the dogs and the boy. “Nice doggies. Good doggies. Remember me? I’m your friend.”

The dogs continued to growl, eyeing the boy. The scent of male piss reeked in the night air.

Slowly, continuing to talk soothingly to the dogs, she helped the boy along the fence until they were all near the fountain. The dogs still growled from time to time, but they seemed somewhat hypnotized by Sister Brigitte’s voice, or else they were more interested in seeing what she was going to do with the naked boy than in attacking. In either case, they allowed her to assist the boy into the back stairwell. Before closing the door and helping the boy up the steps, she patted each dog on the head and promised them some table scraps the next day. The dogs trotted off as if nothing had happened.

Once upstairs, she got a large towel from her room, then showed the boy the bathroom down the hall and told him to take a shower. She stood guard outside the bathroom, hoping that some girl or nun from the adjacent wing wouldn’t find the bathroom on her floor occupied and come here in hopes of finding a vacant toilet or shower. Five minutes later the boy shoved his dripping head and his grinning face out the bathroom door.

“All done,” he said. Then he stepped out into the hall and shoved the towel at her.

“Wrap it around yourself,” she said, turning her eyes away from his nakedness.

“Why? You’ve already seen it. It’s a nice one, ain’t it?”

“I said, wrap that towel around yourself!” she almost shouted. Then she covered her mouth. “Come on! Quick!” She grabbed the boy’s wet hand and led him to her room, sure that her voice had carried into the next wing of the building.

Inside the room, she locked her door, then pressed her ear to it, expecting to hear footsteps and voices and a knock at any second. After a minute, she stepped away from the door, relieved.

The boy was lying on her bed, the towel draped over his loins like a loincloth, his head pillowed in his clasped hands, his hairy armpits exposed. He rubbed his big toes together and grinned at her.

“Nice place you got here, Sister.”

She ignored his remark and went to her dresser for the ointment. Then she went to the bed and sat down on the mattress next to him.

“Are you in much pain?” she asked, squeezing some of the pale-yellow ointment from the tube onto her fingertips.

“Pain?”

“These welts. They must hurt something awful.”

The boy glanced down at the purplish-red welts criss-crossing his legs and torso. “Oh, yeah, they burn like hell.”

Sister Brigitte winced at the profanity, but she let it go without a reprimand. The boy had suffered enough punishment today. She began to spread the ointment on a welt on the boy’s chest.

The boy watched her hand on his deeply tanned flesh. “Ooh, that feels a lot better, Sister.”

“Good. Why are you being punished?” She reached up with her free hand and cleared the fast-drying blond hair out of the boy’s eyes. His hair fanned out on the pillow like a wild yellow mop.

His teenage eyes shined. “I called Father Michael a cock-sucking pussy-eater.”

My Lord! she thought. Such wicked speech! Perhaps he deserved the punishment. But then she shook her head, unable to believe that anybody would dare speak to Father Michael like that.

“To his face?” she asked, hardly knowing what else to say.

“Nah, I kind of said it behind his back. But he’s got ears like a dog. Hears everything and knows who says it. It’s like he’s got eyes in the back of his head.”

She continued spreading the ointment on the boy’s welts until she’d covered them all on his chest, abdomen, and legs. The boy wriggled under her massaging hand from time to time, claiming she was tickling him. When she’d finished, he yanked the towel off his middle.

“You forgot some, Sister–below the belly button.”

“Cover yourself,” she said, reaching for the towel, but he dropped the towel on the floor on the other side of the bed, then pressed her hand to his enormous swollen cock. Its heat and hardness both stunned and fascinated her.

This was the first time in her twenty-four years that she’d touched the male sex organ. She stared at her hand, half wrapped around the pulsing cylinder of male cock flesh, then panicked, desperate to pull her hand away from the throbbing hardness of his prick.

The boy’s hands tightened around her wrist, forcing her hand to slide up and down his cock. The boy leered at her. “Come on, Sister, rub it. I can tell you love it. You’ve been itching to get your hot hands on it all along.”

Her sense of panic overwhelmed her. She let her free left hand fall across the boy’s face. His head snapped to the side as she slapped him. Her hand stung. She wondered whether she’d broken any bones.

The boy let out a growl like some kind of wild savage or animal. He sprang up at her, winding himself around her, yanking her down to the bed. She tried to scream, but he’d forced her face into the pillow, smothering her. He was on her back now, the heat of his savage young body penetrating the layers of her habit, his sharp teeth gnawing her head-wrap close to her ear.

“Keep quiet or I’ll strangle you!” the boy growled. He yanked her arm up behind her, and she nearly passed out from the pain. “Understand, Sister?” He jerked on her arm again.

She tried to shake her head yes. She bit the pillow, trying to stifle her urge to scream.

“All right,” the boy said. “Now you and me are gonna have some fun. You’re gonna get just what you want, and so am I.” He released her arm. “Now, I’m gonna take off all your clothes, Sister, and you’re gonna let me. Hear me, Sister?”

She was trembling uncontrollably, her rib-cage heaving. Her arm throbbed at the elbow and shoulder from the vicious arm-lock the boy had given it.

“Understand?” The boy grabbed her head-wrap at her brow, jamming his fingers under the white, bandage-like wrap and jerking her head up and back.

“Yes!” she gasped, feeling her neck about to snap.

He ripped off her veil. “I thought you would.”

He undressed her with such ease that she realized he must have undressed other nuns before. He pulled off the various layers of her habit with a know-how that could only have come through practice. She wondered how many other young nuns this vicious boy had– had–she couldn’t stand to even think the word–raped, she forced herself to acknowledge the word at last. Raped!

“No!” she whispered. “Please don’t! I want to help you.”

The boy rolled her onto her back, pulling off her black shoes. He was still leering. His cock throbbed, dripping at its end and all red. His prick resembled a murder weapon. “Then shove down those silky panties of yours,” the boy said.

“That’s not what I mean. I don’t want to see you punished any further.”

The boy chuckled. “I don’t intend to be.” He ripped down her panties, and she threw her hands over her exposed pussy. He peeled her panties down her legs and off over her bare feet.

She lay before him without a stitch of clothing on, her eyes closed, her hands clutching her pussy. She heard the boy cursing, then heard him viciously tearing something. She peeked under her eyelids to see him ripping the towel into long strips.

“What are you doing?”

The boy, his bronze muscles straining until their striations wriggled under his thin skin, ripped off another strip of towel, his face wincing with the effort. “Shut your trap!” He grabbed her right arm and yanked her hand off her pussy. Then he was winding the strip of towel around her right wrist. He made a knot so tight that her hand began to throb immediately from the impaired circulation.

Before she could complain about the knot, the boy had secured her wrist to the right upper bedpost.

He’s staking me out the same way he was staked out, she thought. The only difference is that he was staked out on rocky, sun-baked ground instead of on a soft mattress.

He shackled her left arm to the left upper bedpost, then bound her legs by the ankles to the lower bedposts. She found herself spreadeagled before him, her arms and legs stretched out tight, her tender tits and her parted cunt completely vulnerable. She was trembling so hard that she didn’t think she would ever stop. Even had she wanted to resist, she wouldn’t have been able to. Her legs and arms felt limp and wilted. She was shivering so hard she could hardly breathe, let alone shout for help. She wished she could die. That’s all she wanted –just to die.

“You got longer hair than a lot of nuns,” the boy said. He climbed up on her and straddled her tits, letting his enormous cock whack up and down against her chin. He shoved his thick fingers into her long hair, then worked them into her scalp. “It’s long enough that you look like a sexy chick. You ought a let it grow, though–like mine.” He grinned, shaking his head, making his wild yellow hair fly in all directions. In front his hair covered his eyes, and along the sides and back it hung to past his shoulders. He looked like a Tarzan in need of a haircut.

She looked away from his leering face and found her eyes crossing as they followed his twitching cock. Just inches away, the enormous cock resembled an obscene snake, a gaping mouth at the tip of its purple prick-head, bloated blue veins writhing along the endless length of its cock shaft. She could feel its humid heat, could smell its muskiness.

Disgusting! a voice in her mind kept saying. But at the same time she found her cunt throbbing to the rhythm of the twitching teenage prick, found her tits swelling almost painfully under the boy’s naked ass, their nipples erecting and pressing up hard into his smooth ass-flesh.

“Suck my big hot cock!” the boy said, his words juicy with saliva. “Eat that big horny mother!” He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the bed above her head, and rammed his pulsating cock head against her lips. “Suck me, you bitch!”

The burning cock mashed her lips against her clenched teeth. She resisted only a moment, realizing that the boy would knock her teeth out if he had to in order to get her to open up. As her lips parted, the pulsating monster prick rammed into her mouth, stretching her jaws painfully, filling her head with the taste and scent of musky cock meat.

“Oooh!” the boy moaned. “Feels so good!” He leaned on her face, fucking every inch of his cock in, filling her throat with his throbbing prick flesh until she gagged and choked. He was choking her to death.

She twisted her head, her face feeling as if it would explode as she struggled to breathe. Her entire head throbbed with the pulsations of the boy’s huge cock. She felt herself passing out from lack of air.

The boy wiggled his bare ass, easing his cock back until only his prick head was in her mouth, her wet lips stretched around his cock. Air rushed in through her nose. Air filled her lungs. She’d never felt such a sense of relief.

“Lick around the head,” the boy said, wiggling his cock. “Taste that juicy dickhead. Suck on it.”

Gingerly, Sister Brigitte flicked the tip of her tongue at the underside of the boy’s prick-head. The burning cock head swelled even larger. The big cock jerked, almost popping out of her mouth. The boy groaned.

“Oh, yeah, lick that big thing! Suck on it, you cock-sucking bitch nun!” His abdominal muscles writhed as he wiggled his ass and fucked his cock down into her throat.

She gagged again, this time almost vomiting. The boy’s enormous hairy balls twisted against her chin. His hairy groin scoured her upper lip and her nose. She thought she was going to pass out again, but the boy pulled his cock back, allowing her to breathe for an instant before he rammed his fucking rod of cock meat down her throat for the third time.

After that she knew when to breathe, sucking in as much air as she could through her nostrils when the boy pulled out, then holding on and praying when he fucked his brutal cock into her throat. The boy kept telling her to use her tongue, kept telling her to suck, kept muttering to himself about how good it felt to be fucking the face of a bitch nun. She could hardly believe the hardness of the boy’s cock –like bone, like steel. The big teenage prick vibrated in her mouth, its cock head bubbling gobs of warm fuck-lube down her throat.

“Mm, yeah, suck that hot prick!” the boy moaned, his blue eyes wobbling drunkenly, his skinny ass gyrating, sweat dripping from his nose and more sweat trickling from his armpits and down rib-rippled brown flanks.

The scent of the boy made her dizzy. As he began to sweat, as his body heated more and more with lust, the male aroma of him saturated the air around his naked body and Sister Brigitte almost became drunk on the musky, sweaty scent. She was aware of her nostrils flaring. She knew the aroma should cause her to gag, but she couldn’t help herself from trying to inhale more of it.

“Oh, wow!” the boy grunted. “Ah!” He fucked her face rhythmically now, sliding his big juicy cock between her sucking lips, screwing the head of his prick against her tonsils and down into her throat. “Keep using that tongue, Sister. Get the head. Whip that hot tongue against the head.”

Each time the boy pulled out, she flapped her swollen tongue against the underside of the boy’s throbbing prick head. She could tell by the way the boy gasped and by the way his cock jerked and quivered that she was licking the right spot.

“Oh, wow, what a hot mouth!” The boy yanked his cock all the way out of her, leaving her mouth gaping long enough for cool air to rush into it, then fucked his dripping cock back inside. “Ahh!”

Her jaws ached so much they burned as the boy fucked his cock in and out of her overstretched mouth and throat. She felt at times as if her head were going to explode. She imagined her mouth as a huge gaping hole in her face, a hole being fucked to a larger and larger size by the boy’s fucking cock. Her lips were on fire. Tingles flooded her mouth and pulsed down her throat.

The boy yanked his cock out of her face and fisted its throbbing prick shaft as if he wanted to pop the head off his cock. He mashed his balls to her mouth, ordering her to suck them. She found her mouth stuffed with one hairy ball, then with the other. They were rubbery, and as large as golf balls. She sucked on each ball no more than ten seconds before the boy sat on her mouth and ordered her to suck his hot ass. She sucked and licked the tender flesh under the boy’s balls while he wiggled his ass and jerked on his cock. Then she found the boy’s tight ass pucker against her lips, and she gagged.

“Suck my shit hole!” the boy muttered. “Lick it out! Oh, Christ!” He ground his ass pucker against her mouth, forcing her tongue to snake out between her lips and to probe his twitching ass pucker. “Oh, yeah!”

Her tongue slipped into his asshole as if it had been vacuumed up it. The tight pucker sucked at her tongue. The boy’s shit hole quivered inside. Surprisingly, she found the taste of his ass not at all unpleasant. It was musky, salty–stimulating. She thrust her tongue as deeply into his asshole as she could, licking him out, tasting him.

“Oh, wow!” the boy grunted, bucking his ass and riding her twisting, pistoning tongue. “Oh, shit!” Suddenly he slipped off her tongue, slid his wet ass back along her tits, and rammed his purple prick head at her mouth. Before the big cock lodged in her throat, his prick exploded a round of sizzling white cum against her nose. “Ahhh!” He buried his cock in her face.

The alkaline scent of cum made her head seem to swell. Then she was choking, her throat flooded with bursts of thick hot cum, the boy’s pulsing prick head massaging her tonsils. He buried his cock in her face to the hilt, shooting round after round of creamy jism down her throat. She gagged repeatedly, choked, did her best to swallow his hot load.

“Ahhh!” the boy moaned. “Awww, yeahhh!” He pulled his cock back until only the swollen prick head was in her mouth. Then he let his cock rest there while his prick contracted and spurted again.

Free to breathe, free to swallow, Sister Brigitte concentrated on the feeling of the boy’s huge prick head between her tingling lips. She felt the hard cock shiver, felt his prick swell and contract, tasted the hot cum as his cock burst into her mouth. Her tongue churned at the underside of the ballooning cock-head, flitted across the wide-open piss-slit, felt the hot bursts of thick, sticky cum.

At last, when the boy was done shooting, he pulled his cock out until only the tip touched her lips. Then he milked the prick shaft, milked the residual cum out of the piss-tube and into her mouth.

“Your face is all wet and red,” he said. Then he rubbed his cum-slick cock all over her cheeks and nose and eyelids.

And she let him, twisting her face to feel as much of the big hot cock as she could while she licked her lips clean of his cum. The skin of her face tingled. She didn’t care if he ever stopped rubbing his huge beautiful cock on her flesh.

CHAPTER SIX

He moved down off her, taking a seat on the mattress between her spread legs. Sitting with his legs crossed, he relaxed with his eyes closed for awhile as if meditating. His prick, glossy from her dried spit, pointed directly at the ceiling, its purple cock head tapping his brown, muscled abdomen. The reddish welts crisscrossing his flesh shined with the ointment she’d rubbed onto them.

“Mnn, I love to come,” he muttered as if to himself. “I just love to come.” He opened his eyes and dropped his head forward to look at his cock. His wheat-yellow hair all fell forward, dangling along his cheeks and onto his chest. Most of his face was covered by hair. He grabbed his cock and stroked his prick shaft. His large balls shifted in their hairy brown sac.

He snapped his head up, tossing the hair out of his eyes. “I got eight inches,” he said, squeezing the base of his cock and making his prick swell until his cock appeared ready to burst. The purple prick head appeared ready to separate from the veined, blushing cock shaft. He eyed her, a sneer twisting his features. “What do you think of that?”

“Impressive,” Sister Brigitte said. It was the first word that came into her stunned mind.

The boy threw back his head and chuckled. Then he looked at her seriously again, pumping his cock all the while. “You ever fucked a cock this big, Sister?”

She swallowed, the reality of the situation hitting her again. Here she was, spreadeagled, bound, and completely at the boy’s mercy. For some reason, after he’d shot his jism down her throat, she’d relaxed, believing her ordeal to be over, believing that now he would release her.

The boy smirked. “I can tell you ain’t.” He got up on his knees, then sat back on his heels. “Mnn, what a pretty pink cunt!” He rubbed the tip of his middle finger up and down her cunt slit.

Sister Brigitte tensed, straining against the strips of towel binding her wrists and ankles. Nobody had ever touched her there before. Except when she’d been a very young teenager, she’d hardly ever even touched herself down there except to wash. If only she could clamp her legs together! If only she could defend herself! She felt so naked–her legs bound apart this way. She felt so vulnerable.

The boy twisted his middle finger against her stiff clit, causing her to gasp with the intense prickling sensations that suddenly spiraled through her cunt. He grabbed her clit between his thumb and finger and pinched it.

Her eyes rolled back and her body arched up. She winced, biting her lower lip. She couldn’t tell whether” she felt pain or whether her pleasure was so intense that it hurt. The boy laughed, stroking between her cunt slabs with his stiff middle finger.

“You’re drooling down here, Sister–just like some little bitch who’s never had a guy’s finger up her pussy. Something tells me you ain’t never had a guy’s hot finger up your pussy.” He fucked his middle finger up her virgin cunt.

She gasped as if she’d been stabbed, her hips arching more than a foot off the bed. The boy twisted his finger inside her, making her writhe. She still couldn’t tell whether she was feeling pain or intense pleasure.

“Don’t,” she whimpered. “Oh, please don’t!”

He twirled his finger inside her, at the same time fucking it in and out. His finger made squishing sounds in her cunt. He jerked his finger out, then rammed it back in together with his index and third fingers.

She gasped, breathing deeply, her loins on fire. It felt as if he were cutting her up inside. Her cunt itched and burned and throbbed. She became aware of her toes clutching at the balls of her feet.

“Please, son,” she whimpered. “Please stop!”

The boy fucked all three of his fingers viciously inside her. “I ain’t no son of yours. My name is Rocky–Rocky Parks. And don’t you forget it.”

“I won’t,” she grunted, wincing. “I won’t, but please don’t do that anymore. I can’t stand it–oh God!” Her body was arched up and writhing.

To her relief and surprise, the boy pulled his fingers out of her. He raised his dripping digits to his face and sniffed them, grinning at her. Then, with a look of perverted lust in his blue eyes, he began to lick and suck on his juice-slick fingers as if he were licking fried-chicken grease off them.

“Cunt stinks,” he said. “But it stinks good, if you know what I mean?” He sucked on his fingers and smacked his lips. His prick quivered, a gob of clear fuck-lube balancing at its purple tip. “Mm, ain’t nothing gets me hotter than the taste of cunt.” He sprang forward and threw himself on her, biting her neck and jaws, plastering her face and mouth with wet kisses. “Oh, wow!” He writhed on top of her, his body as heated as a hot-water bottle. His enormous prick, twice as hot as the rest of him, throbbed between his belly and hers.

She shuddered under him, helpless, her body completely covered with tingling goose- bumps. Her cunt throbbed as if her heart had slipped down into it.

The boy slid down and began to maul her tits. “Mn, Sister, you got big ones–real knockers! And look at them cherries!” His hot mouth completely covered her right cherry, his burning tongue sliding over the sensitive bumps all around it, his sharp front teeth nipping the tip of her hard nipple. She shrieked, unable to stand the sensations, her cunt contracting furiously and hot juice gushing out of her. The boy grated his teeth over the bumps of her cherries. She thought she was going to lose her mind. Her tits seemed to swell, as if they were going to explode.

“Rocky, Rocky, oh please stop it!”

The boy went for her left tit, wrapping his huge hands around it and squeezing it until the nipple stood up so hard and tight she thought it would split open. Then he punished it with flopping motions of his thick wet tongue.

“Huh, huh, uh, oh!” she gasped, her breaths coming deep and fast.

The boy wrapped his hot lips around her nipple and sucked. She could feel the suck all the way down to the pit of her cunt. Her cunt contracted almost painfully with each hard suck of the boy’s mouth on her tit.

“Don’t!” she whimpered. “Oh, don’t!” The words came out of her mouth spontaneously, without her even thinking them. She was such a conflict of emotions and sensations inside now that she expected her mind to short-circuit at any moment. She tossed her head on the mattress, twisting it from side to side. She was being devoured, abused, tortured. Pleasure and pain were meaningless words to her now. Pleasure and pain were one and the same. The boy was eating her alive.

“I’m gonna fuck you!” the boy mumbled, his teeth clenched. “I’m gonna fuck the guts out of you!” Reaching down, he guided his enormous cock, his tusk-like weapon, to the entrance of her cunt. The huge prick head, like a red-hot apple, pulsated against her slightly parted pussy lips. He began to force his cock into her.

She tensed against him, contracting her cunt with all her strength. Her fingers and toes clenched as she fought the strips of towel binding her in this helpless position.

Grunting, his nostrils flared and steaming, the lusty youth fucked his torpedo-like cock an inch into her clamped cunt. Her cunt slabs were stretched wide. They engulfed the throbbing head of the boy’s cock.

“Stop! Oh, please stop!” she pleaded. This couldn’t be happening to her. She had taken a vow never to do this. She was a virgin. She must always remain a virgin. She strained against the boy’s invading cock, turning her cunt into a steel vise.

“Damn, you’re tight!” the boy grunted, sweat beading on his forehead and dripping off his nose. “Oooh, baby!” Digging his fingernails into her shoulders and at the same time biting her neck, he fucked his cock into her another few inches, stretching her intact cuntal cherry, like the elastic rubber of a balloon.

Sister Brigitte screamed, sure that her insides were being torn into a hundred shreds. The boy clamped his hand over her mouth, stuffing her scream back down her throat. She tasted blood.

“Shut up or I’ll ram my fist down your throat!” the boy whispered, his body shuddering, sweat dripping off his flushed face and showering her own face. Then, with his naked body suddenly turning hard as steel, he fucked his cock into her pussy all the way, exploding her fleshy cherry into a thousand pieces which disintegrated like the mist from a burst bubble.

Explosions went off inside her head. She knew she had been killed. She felt her consciousness slipping away.

The boy was laughing like a lunatic, his body misted with hot sweat, his cock flexing inside her like a flopping fish.

“Oh, Christ!” he panted. “Oh fucking wow!”

All went black for a few seconds, and then Sister Brigitte became aware of light returning. Her body felt like one long tongue of flame. She was moving, writhing, her body arched up at the middle, her loins pumping rhythmically in response to the slicing motions of the boy’s enormous cock. The boy had braced his elbows on the mattress alongside her chest, and now his blond hair swept her face as he tossed his pulled-back head and undulated his muscled body on top of her. His ass wiggling and rotating, he fucked his cock in and out of her blood-and-juice-lubricated cunt.

“Mannn, this is fucking!” he moaned. “Oh, Christ, this is fucking! Ahhh!” He drooled on her face like some animal, fucking his eight-inch cock in and out of her ravaged cunt. “Ooooh, this feels so good!”

Sister Brigitte whined suddenly like a she-cat under the mount of a fucking tomcat. The bestial sound came out of her throat spontaneously, like the voice of some demon from the mouth of a woman possessed. She was aware of the sound, and she was convinced that she had actually become possessed, for her body and her mind and her emotions were no longer her own — they were the body and mind and emotions of some demonic whore. She was being raped. Her cunt was bleeding, her cherry forever torn out of her. She should be praying, she should be weeping, she should be biting her lips bloody from the physical and emotional agony of her ordeal. But she was responding instead, her body undulating, her loins thrusting. And she was feeling it! And she was enjoying it! And she wanted it to go on and on and on! She wanted that big hard cock to go on fucking in and out of her pussy until she became nothing more than a fucking cock-hungry slut nun.

“Mnn, you got a good cunt, baby!” the boy said. “A real tight sucking cunt! Oh, yeah, feels good!” He fucked his cock into her, all the muscles of his body working in coordinated unison, his long hair continuing to sweep her face.

She felt hot juice leaking out of her cunt and dribbling down over her ass. She felt the boy’s spongy warm balls churn against her slick ass, felt his hairy groin grind against her hairy cunt mound, and she churned her cunt at his fucking hard cock, wanting to feel his prick deeper inside her, wanting to feel his red-hot cock twist and squirm inside her until his prick had stimulated every fold and crevice of her sizzling, throbbing, aching cunt-chamber.

“Fuck me!” she whispered, feeling a chill as she dared to utter such filthy, forbidden words. And then a thrill shook her body and she said the words again.

“Fuck me! Oh, Rocky, fuck me! Yes! Oh, yes!”

She caught some of his sweeping golden hair in her mouth and sucked on it, chewed on it. She strained against the towel strips binding her, aching to wrap her arms and legs around the sweating youth, crazy to smother him in her flesh and to feel him deeper inside her, deeper inside her, until she’d sucked his entire body into her own. Her hips rocked, bucking upward to meet the boy’s down-fucks. The muscles of her cunt almost cramped from their hard and rhythmic contractions which squeezed and sucked and manipulated the boy’s cock until he was whimpering as she had been.

“Oh, God, oh, shit, oh fuck, I’m gonna come! Aww, man, yeah–Christ!” His body stiffened, shivering, then shuddered convulsively as he shot his molten cum into her. “Awwww!”

Sister Brigitte felt the hot squirts spear her tingling cunt walls. She felt his cock flexing inside her–swelling and flexing, swelling and spurting. His cock was like a living animal inside her, like a hot living snake. She imagined the spongy tissues of her cunt walls absorbing the thick warm fuck-cream from the boy’s balls. She felt so good she wanted to die like this.

The boy collapsed on her, biting her neck as he pumped more and more cum into her. His hot flesh seemed to be prickling her with zillions of tiny electrical charges. Her entire body, inside and out, felt as if it were bubbling and pulsating with heat and electricity. A whirlwind of energy overwhelmed her loins. Her body arched up spastically and she came.

“Ohhhh, ohhhh, awwwww!” She couldn’t control the whining cries that burst from her throat. Suddenly she found her mouth full of the boy’s jaw, and she was gnawing on it savagely. Her body jerked, bucking up off the mattress at the loins. The spasms that gripped her cunt were unlike any she’d ever before experienced. For the first time, her cunt walls were being stretched and rubbed by a hot, hard, slippery cock while they shivered with orgasm. For the first time, she was enjoying the feeling of hot male flesh covering her and filling her, of hot male jism bursting into her cunt while she writhed with the painfully ecstatic sensations of orgasm.

“Ohhh, yesss!” she whined. “Ohh God yesssss!”

Their orgasms seemed to go on for minutes. Even after the boy had stopped spurting, and after the itchy burning spasms had ceased to torture her cunt, they continued to hump slowly at each other, their fuck organs twitching with the aftershocks of orgasm. She felt as if her body and the boy’s body had melted into each other, as if her body and the boy’s body were one and the same. The boy moaned, his breath hot against her neck, his hard nipples kissing her hard nipples, his enormous cock throbbing inside her pussy, and she turned her head toward him and began to lick his face. He tasted salty and sweet. She licked his lips, licked up into his nostrils. She realized suddenly that he had fallen asleep.

She lay there, bound and spreadeagled on the bed, for what seemed like an hour before the boy woke up, his cock still hard and buried inside her cunt, his hot body sprawled across hers. When he awoke, he looked around as if he didn’t know where he was for a few seconds, then bit her chin and began to hump, his cock swelling and hardening instantly. Her cunt responded spontaneously, contracting rhythmically around his cock as he fucked in and out of her. Her cunt was sore and aching, but the sexy feelings overcame the pain and within seconds she was humping up to meet his fucking thrusts, her head twisting on the mattress, her loins crying for more of his hard fucking cock, for more of his hot jism.

He fucked her, creamed her, then slept again. An hour later he was awake and humping her for the third time. Though exhausted, her cunt torn and stretched, she responded, hungry for more cock, for more jism, for more of those hot itchy feelings. They spasmed together, and this time they both slept.

The boy was climbing off her when she awoke. She was aware of a change in the light. Looking toward the window, she saw the sky tinged with a silveriness and she knew that dawn would be here soon.

The boy, groggy-eyed, began to untie her. His cock, soft at last, drooped over his brown balls like a rubbery hot dog. He pulled the last strip of towel off her left ankle, then grabbed her hand and yanked her up.

“Let’s go, hot stuff.”

“Go?” She sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes. Her loins throbbed with pain as if she’d been impaled on a post.

“Back inside, so you can stake me down.” He pulled her to her feet. “Father Michael will stake us both down and will whip the hide off us both if he finds out you let me go. Come on!”

She followed him, her cunt aching so much she had to waddle.

CHAPTER SEVEN

She sat behind her desk on the raised platform at the head of the classroom, discovering for the first time that human beings gave off distinct smells. During the three boys’ classes earlier, she had become almost giddy on the scent of the seventy or so teenage boys who had crowded the white-walled classroom for each class. The room had smelled of sweat and balls and cum–at least that was what she had told herself–and the aroma had made her somewhat drunk and drowsy. But until this class she hadn’t been absolutely sure that the smell was really the scent of the boys.

It’s the smell of the desert, she had argued in her mind. That alkaline aroma is not the smell of teenage cum–it’s the smell of hundreds of square miles of desert, the smell of baked earth and sunshine and scrubby desert plants.

But it had been the smell of the boys, she now knew, for the scent was gone now. Seventy girls were packed into this classroom now, and the smell was different. It was the musky aroma of cunt. The smell of balls and cum had been forced out the windows into the hot wind and glaring sunshine. She could hear boys outside somewhere, could hear their demonic chuckles and their obscene catcalls.

A young girl over near the window was masturbating. Her brown toes wiggled as she rhythmically squeezed her crossed legs together. Her eyes were closed, her blonde head swayed, and her jaws worked with concentration on a wad of chewing gum. Her bare legs looked like polished bronze in contrast to her light-blue shorts, and her pink nipples were almost visible through the thin material of her white T-shirt. She’d been shimmying her legs together for a few minutes now, and Sister Brigitte knew that she’d be coming any moment.

A glint of light off the girl’s pink toenails signaled the beginning of her orgasm. She slumped in her seat, squirming, her bare legs stretched out long, her thigh muscles working at each other. Small tremors passed through her body and her toes curled under. Her gum chewing temporarily stopped as she clenched her pretty jaws. In thirty seconds it was all over, and the girl went back to reading her book.

Sister Brigitte felt a responsive twinge in her own cunt and she squeezed her legs together a few times. These kids all belonged to the devil, she thought. They cared for little else than pleasuring their young flesh. The boys and the girls–both sexes, were equally as bad. In the course of teaching four, hour-long English classes today, she’d witnessed more shameless masturbation and exhibitionism than she’d have seen in viewing an X-rated movie.

When that boy in that first class had pulled out his cock, beating his prick with his right hand while he tried to take notes with his left, she had almost charged down off the teacher’s platform to grab him and humiliate him in front of the class. Luckily for her, however, she had ached too much between the legs to make any violent moves, and she’d been too shocked to even speak for several moments. Before she could take any disciplinary action she had spotted two more boys with their hard cocks throbbing in their pumping fists. She’d excused herself, had assigned the boys to read three chapters of Huckleberry Finn, and had taken her seat behind her desk, too rattled to go on teaching.

Apparently, Mesa Camp might be better called Masturbation Camp. Both the boys and the girls played with themselves openly and shamelessly during class. The boys shot their jism against their desks and onto the floor between their legs. And none of the kids acted as if what they were doing was the least bit out of the ordinary. One boy had groaned so loud while he was coming that the entire class had looked at him and laughed.

“Shoot it, baby!” one of the boys shouted, and this had broken the class up.

Sister Brigitte sat helplessly behind her desk. She’d assigned reading to all four classes. She hadn’t been able to teach–she was too shook up, too confused, too keyed up. She’d just sat there through her first three classes, and now through this one, pretending to read, pretending to write in her notebook, pretending that the lunacy taking place in front of her was old hat to her. And, mercifully, her new students had seemingly accepted her and, for the most part, had left her alone, had ignored her.

A few of them had actually read the material she’d assigned. Most of them, however, gabbed incessantly among themselves. Several of the boys wrist-wrestled with each other. Wads of paper were repeatedly hurled back and forth across the room. But always, somewhere in the room, a fist was sliding up and down a hard cock, or cum was splatting against the underside of a desk. Sister Brigitte had tried her hardest to ignore these scenes of jacking off, but always her eyes were drawn to them, whether it had been a boy playing with himself, or now, one of the girls.

She checked the clock on the wall to her left and saw that in five more minutes the first day of teaching would be officially over. Teaching? She almost burst into hysterical giggles at the thought of the word. Teaching? This is teaching? These are classes? These zoo-sessions? And these grubby, barefooted, filthy-minded children–these are students?

She knew what she had to do–immediately: Go directly to Sister Frances after class ended and tell everything, let all her thoughts out. It was a Mother Superior’s job to listen, to counsel, to hear all complaints and to offer advice and comfort. And Sister Frances appeared to be such a kind woman, and a strong one. The Mother Superior would certainly straighten everything out.

She’d have to confess everything to Sister Frances. The shocking scenes she’d witnessed on her way here and after her arrival — the four boys raping the girl, Sharon and Jennifer forcing the Dobermans on Cissy, and these filthy masturbation scenes in the classroom. She’d have to confess about Rocky Parks, about how she’d disobeyed Father Michael’s rules and had rescued the boy, and about what had happened then — about how she’d enjoyed his savage assault on her, about how she’d behaved as if possessed, writhing against the boy and begging him to fuck into her deeper, harder. Lord, what had come over her? What was she to do now? She may have arrived only yesterday, but she couldn’t stay in this place if she couldn’t control her students, and, even more important, if she couldn’t control herself! Would even the Mother Superior be able to help her?

She became aware suddenly that her fingers were sweating around her pencil, that her knuckles were white as she pressed the pencil into her notebook, and that she’d broken the lead. She looked up, embarrassed that she’d been sitting up here red-faced and shaking, but none of the girls seemed to have noticed her condition. Three-quarters of them were turned toward the rear of the classroom where the most shameless and shocking classroom antic Sister Brigitte had yet witnessed was taking place.

One of the youngest girls was the victim in the scene. She’d been thrown on the floor between two rows of desks, her shorts yanked off so that she was completely naked from the waist down. As she lay helpless on the floor, a girl sitting in a desk near her head was ramming her dirty foot into the girl’s mouth to keep her from screaming. Two other girls, sitting across from each other and in opposite desk rows, had hold of the younger girl’s legs, which they had spread so wide that the girl was forced into a full split, her pink cunt gaping. The girl was so young that she had fuzz rather than hair on her pussy mound.

Sister Brigitte guessed that the girl might be Cissy, but she couldn’t be sure–it had been too dark last night for her to get a good look at Cissy’s face. But the leader of this stunt Sister Brigitte did recognize.

It was Sharon–Sharon in her almost nonexistent bikini.

Tall blonde Sharon, sitting in a desk directly in front of the girl holding the young girl’s right leg, shoved her brown foot, toes pointed, into the glistening pink meat between the little girl’s legs. Sharon’s big toe slipped into the little girl’s wet cunt. She twisted her foot savagely and the little girl’s body shivered, her own pink toes crossing and clenching. A collective gasp went through the classroom, and Sharon smiled, fucking her big toe in and out of the little girl’s drooling cunt. The young girl’s cunt lips clung to Sharon’s brown toe, stretching this way and that as Sharon toe-fucked with jabbing and twisting motions.

Sister Brigitte watched the scene with her mouth hanging open. Her hearing seemed to go deaf, and she saw the scene unfold in silence, the girls moving in slow motion.

Sharon continued to twist and jerk her big toe in the little girl’s pink cunt, her big tits wobbling in her tiny titcups, her purplish lips pulled back in a snarl. She was the picture of savage female lust.

The other girls leered in the same way as Sharon. The girl foot-fucking the little girl’s mouth was likely Jennifer, but again, Sister Brigitte couldn’t be sure. One of the girls holding the little girl’s legs apart began to gnaw on the little girl’s calf. She chewed her way down the calf until she was biting the little girl’s foot. At last, she was sucking and chewing on the little girl’s toes.

The little girl came, her slim body shuddering with orgasm, her naked little ass jerking. Girls all around the room were grinning wickedly at each other and winking. Several of the girls began to rub their cunts, either thrusting their hands down into their jeans or shoving them up the legs of their shorts. Some of the girls simply squeezed their crotches through their clothing.

Sharon pulled her dripping big toe out of the little girl’s spent cunt and lifted her legs to offer the juice-shiny digit to one of the girls holding the little girl’s leg. The girl smiled appreciatively, immediately opening her mouth and sucking Sharon’s toe. Sharon leered at her, rubbing her own cunt while the girl sucked the cunt goo off her toe.

The harsh clang of the bell ripped through the room, restoring Sister Brigitte’s hearing, and dispersing the girls. Within two minutes the room was entirely vacant except for Sister Brigitte and the rows of wooden desks. The little girl, whom she had expected to see trampled to death in the aisle where she’d been held down and toe-raped, had vanished with the rest of the girls.

Sister Brigitte went to the spot where the girl had been laid out, wondering whether she had hallucinated the ludicrous scene. On the polished hardwood floor, in the spot where the girl’s ass had jerked with orgasm, she found a small puddle of slick fluid. She dipped her fingers into the fluid and sniffed it.

There was no doubt now. The scent reminded her of altar wine–pungent and intoxicating. The little puddle was the result of the young girl’s excitement. It was the sex-lubricant that had dribbled out of her pink cunt while Sharon was toe-fucking her. Sister Brigitte looked for a Kleenex or something to wipe her sticky fingers on. Finding none, she pushed her fingers into her mouth and sucked them clean of the little girl’s fuck-juices.

She felt suddenly dizzy, drunk. Her heart was throbbing and she began to breathe hotly. She looked guiltily toward the front door, making sure she was alone. Then, shivering, her face burning, she got down on her hands and knees like some four-legged animal and began to lap up the young girl’s sex-juices. She made loud slurping sounds. When she finished, she licked and smacked her lips.

Ten minutes later she was hating herself.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Whatever had possessed her to do something like that? Imagine if somebody had caught her in that position! Down on her hands and knees like a dog! Licking the floor like some beast!

She stepped out into the hallway and made her way down the deserted hall toward the front door of the four-classroom building. Blinding sunlight gushed in the front door like some angry spirit–perhaps an archangel come to strike her down. She winced against the light but proceeded toward it.

Fortunately, the girl’s class had followed the three boys’ classes. The hour-long session with the girls had saved her from further degradation. In an hour’s time the thirsty desert air had sucked all the moisture out of the cum-wads that the boys had spattered all around the classroom floor. The cum-wads were now nothing more than filmy yellowish scabs. Were they still plump with moisture and still sweetly aromatic she might be searching them out on her hands and knees, her hungry tongue hanging from her mouth.

Now, as she passed the other three classrooms, she had to restrain herself from entering each of them in a vampiric search for fresh no cum, the sweet essence of virile young loins. Each of those classrooms had cradled seventy sweaty boys with ripe nuts, and the boys had left the rooms only ten minutes ago. She could still smell the sweaty, cummy scent of them as she forced herself past the rooms and into the purging glare of the sun.

She faced the quadrangle. With school out for the day, the large open area was crawling with brown-skinned boys, some lounging on the dusty ground, some wrestling, most milling around like a scattered pack of hungry wild dogs. Across the quadrangle, behind the chain-link fence of the girls’ compound, wandered the girls, their high-pitched giggles flitting across the quadrangle on the wind.

At least a fourth of the boys pressed up against the fence, watching the girls and trying to get at them. Some girls sauntered close to the fence and sparred with the boys. A few boys and girls were exchanging quick kisses through the galvanized links of the fence. Sister Brigitte looked to the far end of the quadrangle at the white mission church. A dozen or so boys lounged on its front steps, but the majority of the two-hundred young devils loitered more toward the middle of the quadrangle.

She made her decision instantly. Stepping around the backside of the school building, she fled to the church. A minute later, without m having run into any stray boys, she entered the shaded safety of the chapel by the side door, for which she had been given a key.

By blessed luck, no boys had invaded the church. She sighed and smiled at her good fortune, ascending the steps of the sanctuary, genuflecting in front of the altar, then fleeing into the sacristy, where the priest dressed for mass and where the tools of the mass were kept. Father Michael, grizzled face grinning, sat on a table along one wall of the sacristy, a sweating beer can in his right hand, his naked torso shiny from the sunlight pouring in through the sacristy window. Her heart jumped and lodged in her throat. She had to grab the doorframe to prevent herself from toppling over with shock.

“Come on in, Sister. Have a beer.” He grinned at her as if he’d been waiting for her, as if he knew that at this time on this day, she would show up in the sacristy to meet him. She’d come here simply for a quiet and safe place to pray and to think. And now here he was, the king of Hell Camp himself. He patted the table next to him. “Take a load off.”

She sat at the edge of the table, keeping as far away from him as she could. He sidled up next to her and draped his heavy, muscular arm around her shoulders. He smelled of sweat and beer.

He pressed the mouth of the cold, dripping beer can to her lips. “Wet your whistle, Sister.”

She pushed the can away. “No thank you, Father. It’s against the rules of my order.” , “Why, you’re trembling like a scared kitten, Sister. What’s the trouble? You afraid of me?”

“No, Father,” she said weakly.

The priest tightened his grip on her shoulders and took another swig of beer. “No need to be afraid of me unless you’ve done something wrong, unless you’ve disobeyed some of my rules. Around this place my rules are more important than the Ten Commandments. Hell, my rules replace the Ten Commandments.” He chuckled to himself and finished off the can of beer, crushing the can in his fist and tossing it into a metal waste-basket across the room, causing Sister Brigitte to wince and jump from the sound of the crash.

He stood her on the floor and made her face him, his thick fingers gripping her shoulders. The man was enormous, twice her own size, with gleaming bronze chest muscles and abdominal muscles that made her think of a gladiator’s armor. She knew that he could crush her to death in an instant if he wished to.

“Time for confession, Sister. You done something wrong? You disobeyed my rules?” He shook her a little.

“No,” she squeaked, looking at his neck. She couldn’t look into his eyes.

He grabbed her chin and tilted her head up. His eyes resembled blazing blue suns, their rays frying her brains. He breathed beer on her face, leering at her with his perfectly even teeth. She shivered, goosebumps all over.

“You know, Sister,” he said, shaking his head as if disappointed in her, “I didn’t get more than a few winks of sleep last night. And you know why?” He tightened his grip on her chin. “Because I couldn’t get your pretty face out of my head.”

She swallowed, frozen by the man’s hypnotic gaze and voice.

“So, you know what I did, Sister? I went out for a walk to cool off. I went way out– down by this little river–and I sat around most of the night listening to the water and watching the moon ease across the sky. And then, just before dawn I headed back. And what do you think I saw when I was coming past the church?”

She closed her eyes. No, he couldn’t have seen, she said to herself. He couldn’t have!

He shook her chin, forcing her to open her eyes. He was glaring at her.

“Why, I saw two buck-naked bodies sneaking across the big yard–one a stud, and the other a bitch. Well, I recognized the stud right off. And it didn’t take me long to figure out who the bitch was.” He released her chin and stroked her nose with his index finger. “You’ve got a real pretty ass, you know that, Sister? I loved pretty asses on little women.”

He grabbed her, turned her so her back was to him, then hiked up her skirts. A second later he was on his knees behind her, yanking down her underwear. She felt his prickly beard stubble against her ass, felt his fat wet tongue slide between her ass cheeks and lap up and down her ass crack. The man grunted, breathed fire against her ass. His hot tongue found her ass pucker and forced its way into her asshole.

Sister Brigitte’s legs buckled, but the big man caught her before she fell and tossed her up onto the table as easily as if she’d been made of Styrofoam. Then he was standing over her, pulling her clothes off. He got her naked faster than Rocky Parks had last night, tossing her clothes in scattered heaps on the floor. He unzipped his tight jeans and cursed as he struggled to pull his half-hard prick out the fly.

Finally, after he’d got the enormous cock and its egg-sized balls out, he stood next to the table with his hands on his hips and a smirk on his face. His prick, hanging over his hairy brown balls, resembled a snake as thick as a wrist and as long as a ruler. His cock twitched, still rubbery and half-hard, its enormous prick head throbbing. Her nostrils flared, catching its sweaty, musky scent. Against her will, her mouth was watering for the succulent slab of cock meat. Father Michael leaned his thighs against the edge of the table, letting his heavy prick flop onto her face.

“Lick it, you little slut,” he said. “Use that hot little tongue of yours on it.” His cock twitched heavily against her face. The big prick was moist and hot and had to be close to a foot long.

Lying partially on her side and partially on her back on the hard wooden table, she twisted her face against the man’s sweaty cock, wanting to feel it rub against every inch of her face-skin. Her heart banged against her breastbone. Her ribcage heaved. She began to kiss the man’s cock, feeling its silky hotness against her tingling lips, delighting in its musky aroma, tasting its sweaty saltiness. She was panting now, shivering with excitement as she nibbled her way up and down the man’s cock. She felt his spongy balls against her chin as she sucked at the base of his cock shaft, and she licked wetly at his hairy balls and sucked on them, wanting to devour them. She squirmed, groaning, hot fuck-lube greasing her sizzling cunt slabs, her long smooth legs shimmying.

“What a hungry little bitch!” the priest whispered. And then he moaned, rubbing his wet balls all over her face. He stepped back away from the table and unbuckled his belt. He leaned over and unlaced his boots. “Down here and pull my boots off!”

For some reason her cunt contracted when he gave her the order, and she slid off the table, her body throbbing with heat, her cunt pulsating, and she threw herself at the man’s feet and wrapped her arms around his large boots, hugging them to her tits as she wrestled them off. When both boots had come off, she leaned forward and kissed the man’s feet.

Father Michael mumbled something, at the same time peeling down his jeans to uncover his thighs and calves. Sister Brigitte helped get the jeans off over his feet. Then she was sliding up his golden-haired leg muscles to shove her nose up under his heavy, dangling balls. She sucked at the hairy flesh under and around his balls, cooing to herself. The priest spread his legs and she crawled between them and behind them so she could lick at his hot and musky ass crack. She twisted her face between his tight ass cheeks, sucking at his succulent ass pucker. At last, drunk on the scent and taste of the man’s ass, she screwed her tongue up into his throbbing shit hole, pistoning her tongue and eating him out.

“Jesus Christ!” the priest gasped. “Goddamn!” He whirled around, caught her by the hair as she fell forward, and rammed the fist-sized head of his cock into her mouth as he held her head up and back.

The head of his cock filled her entire mouth and lodged at the entrance to her throat. Her jaw ached, stretched nearly out of joint. The heat of the bulbous cockhead filled her head. The mans warm fuck-lube slid down her throat. He wrapped his huge hands around her head and tried to move his cock in her mouth, tried to fuck her face. Her throat and mouth were too small to accommodate even another inch of cock.

“Use your tongue,” he muttered. “Oh, Jesus, slide that tongue around under the head.”

She churned the soft wet flat of her tongue against the thick pleasure-strand that quivered on the underside of the man’s cock just below the prick head. The big cock, swollen now to full hardness, seemed to swell even more. His prick flexed, stretching her neck, causing her knees to lift off the hard floor. Her head vibrated as the man’s cock shuddered.

“Shit!” he bellowed. “Awwwww!” His cock head ballooned even larger and his hot cum shot down her throat in long thick spurts. She choked, trying to swallow the heady stuff before it drowned her. His loins shuddered, squirting more slick cum down her throat. He wiggled his ass, working his spasming cock in circles in her wet mouth. He grunted, his cock flexing again and again and again, his hot cum bursting down her undulating throat.

When he pulled his cock out of her mouth, cum dribbled over her lips and dripped from her chin onto her tits. She sank back onto her heels, her heart banging, her lungs aching for air. She felt the sticky cum on her lips and she enjoyed the feel of it, not bothering at first to lick it off.

Father Michael staggered around the room for a minute as if he were drunk. He pulled a can of beer out of the small refrigerator where the sacramental wine was kept, ripped off the tab, and poured the entire can-ful down his throat in one long stream. He dropped the can in the waste basket, not bothering to crush it, then swaggered back toward her, his cock wagging out of his loins at a forty-five-degree angle, cum still dripping from the piss-slit. That cock was a foot long if it was an inch!

“Up on the table,” he said. And, as she scrambled up on the table like a little girl, Father Michael opened a drawer in one of the wall cupboards and pulled out a plastic container with a metal lid. He popped the lid off the container with his thumb, letting the lid fall to the floor, then scooped out a gob of grease with two fingers. Smiling, his eyes closed, he rubbed the grease over every inch of his throbbing cock, massaging it in with his muscular hand, making the purple cock head swell.

He’s going to jack off, she thought, kneeling on the table and sitting back on her heels. And, without another thought, she thrust her hand between her thighs and began to rub and squeeze her sopping crotch. I’ll come with him, she told herself. I just have to.

Scooping more grease out of the plastic container, the priest came toward her, his greased cock wagging, its piss-slit gaping, his balls wobbling heavily in their huge hairy sac.

“Ain’t you a horny little bitch nun!” he said, dropping the plastic container on the floor and holding out his fingers, which were gobbed with pale-yellow grease. “Up on your hands and knees. Let me see that sexy ass of yours.”

Sister Brigitte obeyed him instantly, giggling to herself and shivering all over as she got up on her hands and knees and waited for Father Michael to mount her and fuck her. She knew that was what he was going to do–fuck her, fuck her in the doggy position just like that boy had fucked that helpless girl yesterday afternoon, just like that Doberman had fucked Cissy last night. She could hardly wait. She wiggled her ass with anticipation, arching her back and turning up her ass so Father Michael would have an ideal shot at her cunt. Though she had never done this before, she felt as if she’d been doing this all her life, felt as if this were the most natural thing in the world, as natural and instinctive as eating or breathing.

The priest stood behind her and slopped the thick gob of grease between her ass cheeks. She wriggled with the feeling of his fingers working the grease up and down her sensitive ass crack. He slipped one greased finger up her pussy and she squealed, wiggling her ass, dying for him to slide his big greased cock into her pussy. She could still feel Rocky’s hot cock wriggling inside her cunt. All day long, every time she’d thought about what had happened last night, she’d been able to conjure up the feeling of his cock inside her pussy. Now, with Father Michael fucking his stiff finger in and out of her drooling cunt, that imaginary feeling of being stuffed with cock was more real than ever.

“Fuck me!” she gasped. “Oh, God, fuck me!” She humped, jerking her cunt back and forth around the priest’s fucking finger, feeling her heavy tits flapping underneath her.

“I’ll fuck you, Sister,” the priest muttered, yanking his finger out of her and climbing up on the table behind her. “Believe me, I’ll fuck you!” Then suddenly, without warning, he rammed his stiff finger, still hot from being inside her cunt, straight up her tight asshole.

She nearly hit the ceiling. Her asshole sizzled as if a hot poker had been shoved inside. As the priest twisted his greasy finger inside her shit hole, she moaned, sure her bowels were going to let go.

“Don’t!” she gasped, taking deep breaths. “Oh, please don’t! You’re hurting me!”

The priest pulled his finger out of her and she sighed with relief.

“Thank you, Father! Oh, thank you!”

The priest chuckled. He spread more grease on her ass pucker, working it all around the tight ring and up her shit hole a few inches. She tensed up again, but before she could protest, the priest stopped toying with her asshole and mounted her. She felt the throbbing head of his cock at the entrance to her cunt, felt her hot cunt slabs spread around the tip of his prick as his cock forced its way between them.

Her ass wiggled spontaneously. She arched her back more, forcing her ass up high. “Put it in me!” she gibbered. “Fuck it into me!” Her heart was pounding so hard that it was the only sound she could hear. Every inch of her skin tingled as hot flashes swept through her.

The priest, gripping her waving ass with his greasy hands, twisted his foot-long cock into her. Greased as his prick was, and as slippery with fuck-lube as her cunt was, his cock slipped into her pussy as if his prick had been precision-tooled for her cunt. She thought her loins would explode from the pressure of the arm-sized man-cock. Her cunt stretched out long. She thought she could feel his cock head throbbing in the middle of her abdominal cavity. She churned her ass, crazy to feel his slick cock moving inside her. As he began to fuck his cock in and out of her, she knew she was going to come, she knew she couldn’t prevent it, she was going to come quickly.

“Ah, yeah!” the priest said, wiggling his cock inside her, easing his prick almost all the way out, then plunging his cock back in. He slipped his foot-long monster prick in and out of her a half-dozen times, and then she came.

“Uhhh! Uhhhhhh!” she grunted, her entire body throbbing, her cunt on fire with an itch and an ache that caused tears to stream down her flushed cheeks. The unbelievable stretch the priest’s cock was giving her cunt caused such intense spasms inside her that she thought her sex-tissues were being shredded. Her body jerked convulsively, her crotch on fire as if acid had been poured on it.

“Goddamn!” the priest moaned. “What a fucking cunt!” He fucked his cock inside her pussy until her orgasm petered out and she went limp, wanting only to collapse forward and to melt into the table top.

The priest held her up, though, one muscular forearm wrapped around her loins. He pulled his cock out of her cunt, causing her to moan with both loss and relief. Then she felt his cock head sliding up and down her greased ass crack like a hot fist. His prick head stopped suddenly at her ass pucker and started to fuck into her. She realized now what he wanted to do.

“God, no!” she gasped. “Oh, please, you’ll kill me!” She tensed, clamping her ass cheeks around his cock head, making her ass muscles tight as a vise, making her ass pucker impenetrable.

The priest grunted, working his cock head back and forth between her greased ass cheeks, little by little softening the resistance of her ass pucker. Despite her fierce struggle to hold him out, his monstrous cock was sliding into her ass. Already half the prick head was throbbing within the tight rings of her ass pucker. A moment later, the entire cock head burned inside her, engulfed by her enormously stretched asshole.

She knew she was helpless. She clamped her eyes shut and prayed, wondering whether God wasn’t just laughing at her now, delighted that she was getting exactly what she deserved. She braced herself, waiting for the priest’s foot-long, wrist-thick cock to split her in half.

The throbbing monster slid the rest of the way into her as easily as a snake entering its hole. She felt again as if her loins were going to explode, but surprisingly she felt no real pain. The grease had saved her, she knew. Without the grease, she would have been torn wide open. The priest churned his hairy groin and his rock-hard abdomen against her ass, trying to fuck his cock into her even deeper. Her loins filled with the cock’s heat, shivered with its vibrations. It felt good, she realized suddenly. It felt wonderful! It felt different from being fucked up the cunt, and, in a strange, indescribable way, it felt even better.

The priest reached under her and grabbed her tits, squeezing them, tweaking her nipples, juggling them in his muscular hands as he rounded his back and fucked her ass. His hot, greased cock began to slide in her asshole. Then he rammed into her, his hard abdomen smacking her naked ass. He pulled out, then rammed in again, his heavy balls flapping against her cunt. His hands tightened on her tits and he grunted like a bear, fucking his tusk-like prick in and out of her clutching, tingling, burning asshole.

“Oh, baby!” he muttered. “Oh, Christ!

You’re taking it all. I’ve never seen such a pretty sight–my cock fucking in and out of your wide-open asshole. Shit, how can you take it all?” Releasing her tits, he slid his greasy hands along her sides until they gripped her just above the hips, nearly encircling her slender waist. Then he used his strength to jerk her small body back and forth on this big cock as he gyrated his loins and fucked his sizzling cock in and out of her.

She felt like a toy, her knees and palms barely touching the table-top as the big man lifted her and slipped her naked body back and forth on his fence-post cock. It was as if she were his masturbation toy, as if he were using her body and her hot asshole to beat himself off. Her tits flapped heavily under her. Her head wobbled and snapped back and forth. Her bones vibrated with the brutal smacks of the man’s rock-hard belly against her ass.

“I’m gonna come!” Father Michael gasped. “Oh, Jesus Christ, I’m gonna come already!”

He fucked his cock up her ass, frying her asshole from the blurring-fast friction of his cock. She felt his cock swell and flex in the pit of her belly, felt this molten cum burst into her waiting bowels.

“Ahhhhh!” he bellowed. “Ohhhh!”

She twitched with every squirt of the man’s hot cum against the quivering walls of her ass guts. Her body vibrated with the fierce shuddering of the man’s enormous cock. She couldn’t believe how good if felt, couldn’t believe that her asshole could be such a source of wonderful pleasure. She wriggled in the man’s arms, rotating her clutching asshole on his stiff, flexing cock. The sex-knots tightened in her loins. The ache, the itch, the heat, the throbbing–all surged to a peak of intensity. She felt her orgasm on the way, felt it pulsating up from the pit of her cock-filled, cum-flooded asshole. Her loins seemed suddenly to turn to hot jelly, and she whined from the sensations overwhelming her.

“Eeeeeeh!” she moaned. “Ohhhhhhhh!” It felt as if electric needles were being jabbed into the tips of her nipples and toes. Her body was melting in waves of heat. Her loins jerked, exploding inside. She felt the man’s spurting cock kiss the pit of her asshole and her body shuddered with so forceful a spasm that it was as if an electrified rod had been shoved up her asshole. “Ohhhhh, Goddddd!”

“Fuck you!” the priest gasped. “Oh, fuck you!”

And Sister Brigitte wailed again, her eyes blinded by hot tears, her naked body writhing. “Ohhhhhh, Godddd!”

CHAPTER NINE

That evening Sister Brigitte sat at the window of her room, waiting for the sun to set, waiting for darkness to descend so she could go for a long walk and try to sort things out in her mind. She was afraid to go for a walk before the curfew whistle rounded up those savage boys and sealed them in their dormitories for the night. True, the boys’ dormitories had no locks on the doors, but the threat of Father Michael’s punishment for breaking curfew was probably better than any lock in keeping the boys inside after dark.

This afternoon she’d seen a curfew-violator hung naked by his wrists and whipped with a leather strap until he’d passed out, screaming. Father Michael seemed to enjoy whipping boys as much as he did fucking women. And to Sister Brigitte’s shock, she herself had taken a perverse delight in watching Father Michael scourge the wriggling, kicking, screaming youth. The boy had attained a hard-on upon being hung naked in front of the entire camp, and, just before he’d passed out in agony, he’d achieved a spontaneous orgasm, his flexing cock spurting gobs of thick white jism into the red dust of the quadrangle.

What was happening to her? Why had she gotten so excited at watching the helpless youth being whipped? The boy’s erect, spurting cock certainly had a lot to do with it, but there was more to it than that. She’d delighted in seeing him hung up and whipped, and she knew that she would have gotten a thrill out of the scene even if his cock hadn’t gotten stiff and shot off.

But all this sex was beginning to obsess her. Against her will, she was being corrupted. She was enjoying the sex, enjoying the scenes she’d inadvertently witnessed, enjoying the perverted sex she’d been forced into at the hands of Rocky Parks and Father Michael. Now, sitting here by herself, she could only curse herself for giving in. The trouble was that when a sexual situation arose she would lose control of herself. At the scent or sight of cock, she would become filled with pulsating heat, and then she couldn’t help herself. It was only later, when she was alone and free to think things over, that she cursed herself for her loss of will-power and prayed to be back in her quiet little convent where the temptations of the flesh were as rare as desert cacti.

She smiled grimly at her foolishness. Why had she insisted on giving up her secure and peaceful job just because she’d become a little bored? Teaching grade schoolers during the days and correcting papers while quietly relaxing during the evenings wasn’t the most exciting life, for sure, but it surely beat this place –this desolate Sodom and Gomorrah! She’d come here for a challenge, because she’d thought Mesa Camp would give her a taste of missionary work, of field work. But this place made missions in darkest Africa–at least what she’d heard of them–sound like resorts.

She’d come here under the impression that she’d be rehabilitating teenagers who had been sent here for minor offenses. She had envisioned cowering young boys and girls who would be on their best behavior so as to earn an early release from the camp. She had envisioned herself smilingly teaching and counseling contrite young people who were washed, well-groomed, and dressed in modest school uniforms. But what had she found?

Two hundred grubby boys with bare feet, hair past their shoulders and the smell of sweat reeking on them. Two hundred boys who were allowed to run wild like savages, sexually molesting any girl they could lay their hands on. Two hundred inmates who stayed here happily because they liked the place, because they were allowed the freedom to satisfy their raging adolescent lusts whenever they desired–and woe be to any unfortunate female who fell into their snares!

Not that all the girls would consider themselves unfortunate. At least half of the seventy-odd girls who lived in the fenced-in compound at the camp reveled in lust with the same abandon as the boys. A lot of them seemed to delight in sex among themselves as much as in sex with the boys. It wasn’t those girls who were the unfortunate ones, it was the other half of the girls who were having to suffer. These reluctant, more timid girls were the ones repeatedly assaulted by the sex-crazy, more-dominant girls as well as by the boys. It was these girls whom Sister Brigitte felt sorry for. But what could she do to help them or to help herself? To whom could she turn?

Father Michael, head honcho of the camp? She let out a sharp laugh. She found it difficult to believe that Father Michael hadn’t by now rammed his twelve-inch cock into the helpless bodies of every last female inmate. And probably into all the nuns as well. Except maybe for Sister Frances. Sister Frances looked tough enough to hold her own against any man, even Father Michael.

Could she turn to the three other priests here? Possibly, but probably not. All three of them had leered at her suggestively when she’d been introduced to them in the dining hall. For all she knew, they might be even worse than Father Michael.

But what about the other nuns? There were five of them living here besides herself and Sister Frances. Maybe she could confide in some of them and gain their support to help protect the more innocent and abused younger girls. She really didn’t know any of them yet. She’d exchanged words with all of them, but hadn’t detected even a touch of dissatisfaction in their manners. They reminded her of the priests–leering, hardened, satisfied with their lives here. They and the priests probably got together to rub fuck organs. Maybe they even fucked the boys. Maybe Rocky had dared to rape her last night because fucking between the boys and the nuns was a common activity at the camp. Perhaps every last nun here had been fucked.

Her cunt contracted at the thought, and she squeezed her legs together automatically. Then she forced herself to peel her clamped legs apart, cursing herself for becoming excited at a sinful thought. What was she going to do with herself? She was sliding deeper and deeper into the pit of depravity.

Two giggling girls suddenly appeared, running along the fence on the inside. Sister Brigitte had to shade her eyes to see them clearly due to the glare from the sun, which was still partly above the trees in the distance. The girls stopped suddenly, looking around as if making sure the coast was clear so they could perform some mischief. Giggling giddily, they stripped off every stitch of their clothing, then bent forward, hands braced on their knees and supple backs arched, and wiggled their naked asses up against the chain-link fence.

Sister Brigitte began to ask herself what in God’s name was happening, but she was shown an answer before the thought had passed through her mind.

The area outside the fence was suddenly hopping with boys–like an infestation of fleas, Sister Brigitte thought. Some of the at least two dozen boys had unzipped their jeans and were displaying erect cocks, standing with their hands on their hips and letting their naked cocks twitch in the glittering golden air. Most of them, however, had wriggled out of their tiny gym trunks and now were dancing stark naked in the light of the setting sun, their hard cocks whacking up and down and wagging from side to side, their discarded gym trunks held at arm’s length overhead and waved like victory flags.

After a quick scuffle and some swearing, two of the larger boys mounted the two girls and began to fuck them through the diamond-shaped openings of the fence. The girls pressed up hard against the fence while the two boys clung to it on the other side, their fingers clutching the woven fence wire near their shoulders, their loins humping, their hard cocks fucking in and out of the girls’ wiggling asses. Whether the boys were fucking the girls’ cunts or assholes, Sister Brigitte couldn’t tell, but she was sure that before the girls walked away from the fence both of them would have cum leaking out of both their assholes and their cunts.

The kids appeared to be engaging in some sort of pagan ritual. While the two boys mounted on the girls grunted and wriggled, fucking their cocks in and out of the girls and building toward orgasm, the other boys chanted encouragement, sang fuck songs, let four-letter words fly out of their mouths, all the while whirling around in a dizzy dance, taking punches at each other. Sister Brigitte thought this must be some sort of bacchanalian rite, or perhaps some form of devil worship. Whatever it was, it was making her dizzy just watching.

The two boys on the fence reached the height of their pleasure almost simultaneously. Their lithe bodies shuddered, the fence rattled, and they shot their jism into the wriggling bodies of the gasping, giggling girls. As their spastic humping slowed, they were pulled off the fence by two other hard-cocked boys who immediately took their places and thrust their quivering, hot pricks through the fence and into the waiting bodies of the two girls. The two boys who had fucked the girls already relaxed on the bare dirt nearby, massaging their rubbery half-hard pricks and watching their relief crew take over fucking the girls.

Urged on by the growing excitement of their dancing, masturbating, chanting buddies, the two new fuckers reached their orgasms in less than a minute, first one, then the other grunting out his pleasure as he exploded his molten cum into the wriggling female pussy impaled on his bone-hard cock. Sister Brigitte heard the fence rattling from the vibrations of their shuddering bodies as they clung to it like excited monkeys to the side of a zoo cage. One of the boys was still spurting when he was torn off the fence by the sex-delirious boy who was next in line behind him, and the spurting youth cursed, grabbing his jerking cock and pumping out the rest of his load into the dirt.

The mass orgy went on until the sun had disappeared and the sky had turned to fading embers. Sister Brigitte had watched with hypnotic fascination as the boys had continued to mount the fence in pairs, ramming their big cocks through the same link opening and into either the cunt or the asshole of the two dizzy, panting, squealing girls. Both girls achieved multiple orgasms, announcing them with loud moans and with shuddering, gyrating asses.

“I’m coming!” one of them would gasp. “Ooooh, I’m coming! Fuck me, you horny bastard! Make me feel it!”

And then the other one would join her in orgasm: “Oh, Jesus, I’m coming again! Ohhh, wowwwww!” After each girl had achieved six orgasms, Sister Brigitte had lost count.

The boys who had first fucked the girls were clinging to the fence for their second fuck when the curfew whistle blew. One of the boys dismounted immediately, cursing to himself as he searched for his gym trunks, found them, and wriggled into them. The other boys mumbled and groaned, pulling on their gym trunks or stuffing their hard cocks back into their jeans.

Most of the boys had already disappeared, trotting off toward their compound dormitories, when the boy who was still fucking grunted loudly and squirted his second load of cum into one of the girls. The girl squealed, wiggling her ass wildly, then suddenly stepped forward, disengaging the boy’s spurting cock from her cunt. The two girls giggled, taunting the boy as he shot the last of his jism into the dirt inside the fence.

Sister Brigitte could hardly make out the kids anymore in the fading light, but the white spurts of the boy’s jism were clearly visible to her as they arched through the air and plopped onto the dusty ground. The girls dressed almost as quickly as they had stripped, and they disappeared along the fence, sprinting toward one of the front dormitory buildings. The boy snatched up his gym trunks and sprinted naked toward the boys’ compound, his prick still hard and snapping up and down as he ran.

Sister Brigitte, aching to thrust her hand up under her skirts and relieve the throbbing itch of lust in her swollen cunt slabs, forced herself instead to push her chair away from the window and to stand. Swallowing hard to gain control of her breathing, she left her room, turned left down the hall, and headed for the door that led into the adjacent wing of her building.

Her swollen cunt slabs rubbed together as she walked, causing unbearable sensations to whirl up through her loins, forcing her to walk with her legs spread wider than was normal. She was determined not to give in to her lust this time. She would not masturbate. Instead, she would march to Sister Frances’s room and have an utterly frank talk with the Mother Superior, the talk she had intended to have this afternoon after her last class. She would have had that talk by now had she not been intimidated this afternoon by the sight of the boys swarming over the quadrangle, had she not then fled to the church to think and to pray and to hide, and had Father Michael, that so-called priest, not gotten his lecherous prick in her in the sacristy.

A sick knot throbbed in her chest at the thought of what she had done with the priest. She pushed the door open and entered Sister Frances’s wing of the building, half running down the hallway to throw herself into the Mother Superior’s arms and to confess everything.

The hallway was deserted and dark except for a dim overhead light at one end and the light shining from Sister Frances’s bedroom door at the other end. The Mother Superior’s door was half open, and Sister Brigitte slowed her pace as she approached, her stomach suddenly churning with anxiety. She was nearly up to the door and was raising her fist to knock when she heard Sister Frances’s deep voice.

“You’re a goddamn little slut, you know that, Sharon? If I weren’t in love with that steaming little cunt hole of yours, I’d throw you over the fence to Father Michael and his troop of pricks.”

Sister Brigitte peered into the room, keeping herself hidden in the hallway darkness as best she could. What she saw made her brace herself against the wall for support. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

Sharon, stark naked, lay on her back across the shiny top of Sister Frances’s large oak desk, her bronze legs split wide. Sister Frances, without a stitch on, stood on the floor in front of the girl, a strap around her hips, an enormous rubber cock attached to the front of the strap and sticking out from the nun’s hairy groin.

Some sort of round flesh-colored disc looked as if it were glued to the nun’s ass crack, and Sister Brigitte guessed that the disc was the handle of some kind of device that was embedded in Sister Frances’s asshole. To Sister Brigitte’s disbelieving shock, Sister Frances sported a mane of yellow hair that hung all the way down to her lower back. The muscular, well-stacked nun, though middle-aged, resembled a sexy, long-haired adolescent girl like Sharon. In fact, Sharon and Sister Frances’s could have passed for younger and older sisters.

The big nun suddenly stepped forward between Sharon’s legs, grabbed the girl’s hips, and rammed the rubber cock to the hilt up the girl’s spread cunt. Sharon moaned, her brown toes clutching at the balls of her grubby-soled feet, her big tits heaving. “Not so hard!” she gasped. “Come on, Fran!”

Sister Frances, her beautiful round ass cheeks contracting, fucked the huge dildo in and out of the writhing girl’s cunt. “I catch you sneaking out of my bed to lay with Jennifer again and I’ll tie the two of you together and throw you both naked into that snake den across the way. Then you’ll have a couple hundred pile-drivers like this one reaming out your smelly little twats while you scream ‘not so hard’!”

The muscular nun twisted and pistoned the huge dildo inside the young girl until Sharon was twisting and banging her head on the desk top. Then she yanked the dildo out of the girl, unfastened its strap from around her hips, and strapped the dildo unto the girl.

“Come on!” the nun said. “Before it cools off!” Sister Frances yanked Sharon up off the desk, sprang up onto the desk herself, and, on her hands and knees, wiggled her plugged ass at the reeling young girl. “Quick, baby, give it to me!”

Sharon got up on the desk behind the nun and, grabbing the nun’s meaty hips for support, fucked the juice-dripping dildo into the nun’s enormous hairy cunt. Sister Frances groaned, her ass shivering and gyrating madly.

“Oh, screw it!” she gasped, breathless. “Oh, it’s still hot from your cunt! I feel it, I feel it! Oh, baby, ram that thing in me!”

Sharon fucked the nun so hard that her belly smacked rhythmically against the nun’s churning ass. While she was fucking, she grabbed the rubber disc attached to the nun’s asshole and twisted it back and forth.

Sister Frances groaned, twisting her head from side to side madly, her yellow hair flying and dancing on the desk top. “Oh, God, baby, give it to me!”

Sharon fucked Sister Frances’s cunt with the force and technique of an experienced stud. Suddenly, she yanked on the rubber disc and pulled a wet, flesh-colored plug out of the nun’s asshole. The plug was as thick as a fist.

Sister Frances gasped, her asshole gaping wide open. “Fuck it!” she begged. “Oh, Sharon, fuck it now!”

The tall blonde teenager yanked the enormous rubber cock out of Sister Frances’s cunt and stuffed it immediately into the nun’s open shit hole. Sister Frances’s toes turned under. Her ass churned, grinding against Sharon’s groin. Sharon reached behind her own ass, used one hand to spread apart her ass cheeks, then used the other to fuck the ass-lubricated ass-plug into her own asshole. Sister Brigitte thought she was seeing things as the enormous ass-plug disappeared up the young girl’s asshole. The girl’s shit hole was like a hungry mouth which had swallowed the plug.

The two females writhed in unison. Sister Frances bucked her naked ass, sliding back and forth on the nine-inch rubber dildo. Sharon jerked her loins back and forth, fucking the nun’s asshole with the dildo while at the same time using one hand to twist and jerk the ass-plug in her own asshole. Both females gasped and grunted, their assholes stuffed with the rubber fuck-toys. Sister Frances suddenly snapped her head back, her body shuddering, and she whined like a she-cat being fucked by a torn.

“I’m coming!” she whined. “Oh, Sharon, baby!” She reared up, rubbing her naked back against Sharon’s tits and belly, twisting her head to the side and biting at the girl’s face. Her tits stood out like enormous shivering cones of rubbery flesh, her cherries swollen and purple, her nipples stiff and long. She ground her spasming ass around the thick dildo, grunting and moaning as if she didn’t care whether the entire camp heard her.

Sharon, as if the rubber dildo were actually a part of her own body and capable of feelings and orgasm, suddenly jerked her loins convulsively and began to climax. She twisted and screwed the ass-plug madly inside herself, whining as loudly as Sister Frances. Sister Brigitte saw fuck-lube leaking out of the young girl’s cunt and trickling down her smooth inner thighs, and she clung to the door frame, restraining herself from rushing into the room to lick the hot fuck-drool from the spasming girl’s succulent thigh.

CHAPTER TEN

She shut herself up and cut herself off as much as possible from the other people in the camp. In the dining hall she spoke to the other nuns when spoken to, but she never initiated conversation. She avoided the priests entirely, spending all her time, when she wasn’t teaching or performing some necessary task, locked away in her bedroom.

She taught her classes in a trance, staring above the heads of her students at the wall at the rear of the classroom while she lectured from the beginning bell to end bell. Her voice in the classroom was often drowned out by the noise the kids made, but she went on lecturing, doing her job, while the kids raised their usual hell, including their endless masturbation. She moved and talked like a sort of zombie, concerned only with getting through each day without becoming further corrupted by the demons who operated and were inmates at Mesa Youth Rehabilitation Camp.

She managed for three days to avoid sexual contact with any nun or priest or student, although she fell prey to her own lust each night before she went to sleep, rubbing herself off while endless visions of the sexual scenes she had witnessed and been a part of paraded before her mind’s eye. She tried to combat these sinful visions by thinking of her lost convent and job back east, but the hellish vision of Mesa Camp devoured the cool and pale memories of her former life like flames incinerating tissue paper.

I’m trapped, she told herself. Trapped by the desert, trapped by these people, trapped by my own pleasure-craving flesh.

But what could she do to help herself except to do what she was doing? Shut herself up. Cut herself off from the others. Hide. Wait. Hope the insatiable itching between her legs would eventually subside. Hope that everybody would leave her alone.

On the fourth day of her self-imposed social seclusion, she was presented with an escape. The supply truck arrived with its biweekly shipment of food and other essentials. She was leaving the school building to run to the safety of her room when she spotted the truck over near the mess hall. The driver and Father Michael were talking next to the truck, the driver making notations on a clipboard.

She knew immediately that the truck was her ticket out of this prison, and, without even considering her few simple possessions, which were locked in her room, she hitched up her skirt and scampered around the backs of three buildings until she approached the truck from the rear. The supply truck was an old Army vehicle with a canvas roof over its bed and its end open. She pulled herself up into the empty bed and sank down on a pile of sacks in the far corner. Then she waited, her heart thudding sickly, her throat so dry she could hardly swallow.

to the truck after Father Michael invited him inside the mess hall for a drink, and Sister Brigitte occupied her time by thinking about the wonderful convent she would be returning to back east. True, she’d agreed to spend at least a year at Mesa Camp, but when her superiors back east heard the truth about this place she’d be surely granted a dispensation from her assignment here as well as a full pardon for her treachery in running away.

She smiled to herself, so happy to be leaving, so happy to be going back to her former life even though it had been a little humdrum. So what if she’d be a little bored? It was a life she knew, a life that was secure and decent.

Two boys suddenly appeared, dragging a young girl behind the truck. “Let’s take her in there,” one of the boys said, nodding toward the rear of the truck where Sister Brigitte was huddled in the shadows.

She was ready to burst out in tears, sure they would discover her, but the other boy saved her.

“You crazy?” he said. “Father Michael catches us in there and he’ll cut off our balls. Bend her over the garbage cans out back.”

They dragged the gagged, kicking girl out of sight to the rear of the mess hall, and Sister Brigitte sighed with relief. She was safe again.

She was safe, but she wasn’t feeling as happy. One of the boys had had a hard-on. She’d seen his cock sticking out the leg of his shorts. She realized that right now he was likely fucking his prick in and out of the girl’s cunt while the other boy held her face-down over a garbage can. Sister Brigitte’s cunt lips swelled and she began to shiver.

By the time the driver had returned to the truck, she was beginning to wonder whether she should be doing this— running away. After all, she had agreed to spend a year here. And she was beginning to wonder whether she could resume her life back east as it had been. After her new experiences here, after all this excitement, could she be happy again with that sedate, uneventful life in a small-town convent? Could she go back?

The truck engine roared to life, startling her, but at the same time vibrating the truck body so intensely that she felt s if she had Rocky Parks’ cock head rubbing up and down between her pussy lips again. Her pussy lips tingled with the vibrations.

The truck lurched forward and suddenly was bumping along the rocky ground of the quadrangle, heading for the open-ended front of the camp. As the truck progressed, Sister-Brigitte could look behind her and see the camp buildings coming into view–the boys’ compound with the mess hall and school building on the left, the fenced-in girls’ compound on the right, the mission church at the rear of the camp.

The red ground of the quadrangle was alive with boys, with boys wrestling and chasing each other, with boys shouting at the girls behind their fence, with boys giving the departing truck the finger. Then, suddenly, the truck was out of the camp and bumping down the rutted road upon which she’d entered the camp in Father Michael’s jeep only six days ago–not even a week ago.

Three miles down the road, near the spot where Father Michael had had the flat tire, Sister Brigitte leaped from the truck and found herself rolling in the red dust. I’m going back, she told herself. I’m going back to serve out my year. It’s my duty. And the kids need me.

She stood up and dusted herself off. She’d sustained a few bruises in her fall, but nothing that throbbed as much as her swollen cunt slabs. She’d almost attained an orgasm at the moment of her decision, for she knew that in order to live at Mesa Camp for an entire year — or more, if she could adjust — she would have to become part of the life of the camp. She couldn’t hide in her room. She’d have to give in and accept life there as it was — life with Father Michael and Sister Frances, with Rocky Parks and Sharon, with the boys and the girls. The realization of what staying at the camp would mean had almost sent her into spontaneous orgasmic spasms. All those cocks! Lord!

She went into the trees and found her way to the bluffs above the river. Down below, a dozen boys were romping nude, some in the river, some on shore. She called to them and waved. A few minutes later she was descending the last few feet of a trail which the boys had directed her to. As she stepped onto the sandy ground near the river, a few dozen grubby young hands began to tear at her clothing. She was naked in moments, and she allowed herself to fall into the arms of the boys.

Take me! she thought. Take me and do with me whatever you want! Use me in whatever ways please you! Fuck me, you beautiful sweaty boys, with your big delicious cocks! Fuck me and fill me with your jism! I want you! I want you all!

She was suddenly on her back in the sand, a boy straddling her neck, his hot ass rubbing her tits, another boy forcing her legs apart and fucking his cock into her cunt. The first boy fucked his purple-headed, sweating cock down her throat while the other boy fucked his cock in and out of her seething cunt. Her cunt was so hot, so juicy, that the boy’s cock made loud squishing noises inside her even though he’d only been fucking her for a few moments. Her cunt was so wet inside that it sounded as if she’d already been pumped full of several loads of hot cum.

She was excited, more excited than she’d ever been in her life, because for the first time she was giving herself because she wanted to give herself. She wanted to be fucked, wanted to be used, wanting to the be the sex object of these dozen panting, sweating, hard-cocked youths. All her qualms over what she was doing were gone. She didn’t care whether these lusting boys fucked her to death. She didn’t care whether the whole world could see them. This was what she wanted. Oh, God, how she wanted it!

She swallowed the first boy’s cock, rubbing her lips in his kinky crotch hair, holding the base of his cock with her front teeth while she undulated her throat muscles and stimulated his cockhead. The boy’s eyes rolled. He grabbed her head and began to fuck her face furiously, fucking his cock back and forth between her sucking lips, fucking his prick deep J into her hot, wet, undulating throat. She gagged and choked and sucked, spit bubbling out of her mouth, her tongue lapping madly at the underside of the boy’s cock.

In less than a minute, the boy. moaned loudly in pained, ecstatic tones. His swelling cock fluttered in her mouth, squirting hot streams of jism down her throat. He spurted faster than she could swallow, and warm fuck-cream trickled from the corners of her mouth as the boy fucked his spasming cock in and out between her lips. The boy had finished spurting and was climbing off her when the boy fucking her cunt exploded his hot jism inside her.

“Oh, wowwwww!” he cried. “Ahhhhh!” Bracing his hands in the sand, he bridged his quivering body over hers and jerked his hips repeatedly, creaming her insides as the other boy had creamed her throat. She was on the verge of an orgasm when the boy pulled out of her.

She found herself being lifted by hands under her arms. Other hands grabbed her legs and her ass, and suddenly she was being seated on a boy’s vertical cock. The boy was lying on the sand, his cock sticking straight up like a fence post while other boys impaled Sister Brigitte’s naked body on his cock. The huge cock head burned between her cunt slabs for a moment, then suddenly was sliding up into the pit of her cunt. She slid down the slick cock, her ass coming to rest on the boy’s fat balls.

“Ride him!” the other boys yelled. “Ride that big mother!” And then they were whacking her naked ass with their bare hands. Other boys grabbed at her wobbling tits, pinching her nipples.

Dizzy, sweating, filled with sensations both painful and pleasurable, she began to fuck up and down on the boy’s cock, feeling the hot, slippery monster cock bucking inside her. She saw leering brown faces and flashing white teeth all around her. These boys were savages, animals, and they were mauling her.

She loved it, couldn’t get enough of it. She fucked up and down on the boy’s cock, her tits flapping, her cunt sizzling and throbbing. Suddenly a boy stepped in front of her and fucked his cock into her mouth. Somebody rammed a finger up her asshole, causing her to gasp, causing her loins to explode with tingles. The boy underneath her began to spurt. His jism ran out of her cunt and bathed his huge balls, and she rubbed her hot ass in mad circles on his cum-slick balls. Suddenly her own loins exploded with spasms.

She groaned, her throat stuffed with cock, her cunt stuffed with spurting cock. Two hot mouths went for her throbbing nipples and simultaneously bit into them. She whined, clawing at the tit-sucking youths, unable to bear the sensations. Then she was choking, more hot cum bursting down her throat from the boy who was fucking her mouth.

She was lifted again, this time onto another boy who was holding his cock vertical while he lay on his back in the sand. This time, however, she was not forced to ride the boy’s cock, but was pushed forward to lie on the boy’s writhing body. She lay stretched out on him, his cock buried in her cunt, while another boy mounted her ass and rubbed his cock, lubricated with cunt juice and cum, up and down her asscrack.

The second boy’s cock slipped up her asshole easily, and he moaned with pleasure, grinding his muscular abdomen at her ass and sinking his teeth into her shoulders from behind. She became all goosebumps, all hot flashes. She was melting, splitting open, her insides crawling with hot, itchy feelings. She jerked her ass, fucking the two boys’ cocks, dying to feel them spurt off inside her.

A boy got down in front of her and shoved his dripping cock into her mouth. Two other boys grabbed her hands and wrapped them around their hot, twitching, bone-hard cocks. She began to jack-off the two boys while sucking on the one and contracting her asshole and cunt around the cocks of the other two. She was taking on five boys now, her hands and mouth, her asshole and cunt, all filled with , hard, broiling cock.

Fuck me! Squirt on me and in me! she would have yelled if her mouth hadn’t been full. Oh, yes, move those big hot things! Oh, God, yes! Come on, you big beauties–squirt!

The boys began to come. Her mind was whirling so fast that she could no longer determine the sequence of events. All she knew was that cum was spurting, cocks were spasming, and boys were grunting and moaning with pleasure–pleasure that she was giving them. Cum was filling both her asshole and her cunt. Cum was bursting down her throat. Cum was squirting out of the cocks in her hands and gluing like strands of hot wax to her arms and her flanks and her cheeks. And suddenly she was coming again, her entire body racked with spasms and unbearably pleasurable sensations. Then she was free again, but only for a moment.

She was pulled off and away from those five cocks and she was placed on her hands and knees in the sand next to the gurgling, splashing stream. Before she even had time to brace herself, she was mounted from behind, mounted like some four-legged animal, and a cock was fucked up her asshole, a cock that began to fuck her immediately. The boy muttered to himself about how tight and sexy her ass was. He fucked his cock inside her, rubbing her ass with his belly. When he came, he howled like some tortured hound.

Another boy replaced him the moment he dismounted. The new boy used her cunt instead of her asshole for his pleasure. While he fucked his cock in her cum-dripping cunt, another boy straddled her upper back and sat on her as if she were a mare. She could hear the squishing noises made by his masturbating hand as it pumped his sweaty, lube-slick cock.

Two other boys squatted in front of her and beat off close to her face. She opened her mouth, begging for their cum. When they came, they shot their hot stuff into her mouth and against her face while the boy straddling her back burst his hot cum onto the back of her neck. A moment later, the boy fucking her shot his load up her quivering cunt.

She fell forward into the sand, cum leaking out of her mouth, asshole and cunt, cum hanging from her eyelashes and nose and chin and earlobes. She rolled over, looking up at all the hard, dripping cocks that had fucked her and would fuck her some more–and she was happy, so happy she’d come to the mesa.

THE END