Feature Writer: Cheeslord
Feature Title: THE ABBESS 5
Published: 09.08.2025
Story Codes: Erotic Horror
Synopsis: Demonic possession of nuns, human sacrifice, weight gain.
Author’s Notes: The Abbess: (Chapter 5 of 9)
The Abbess 5
The next day, the Abbess was largely indisposed, and only a few of her most trusted assistants were allowed to bring food into her chamber. Rumours abounded, but the sisters knew well that they had best not be caught speaking them, especially not if Sister Horslip or any of her network of Disciplinari were around.
The day after, the first wave of the Legion of Blood mercenaries began to arrive. Space was allocated for them on the Abbey’s extensive estate (which had almost doubled in size since Emelda became Abbess, due to a series of bargains struck with local lords by Sisters Lyre and Creed). An encampment was rapidly established, and the mercenaries and nuns began working together in a manner that proved mutually profitable.
The nuns provided the appearance of respectability and endorsement by the Church for the mercenaries, and their influence in various courts helped them to secure more contracts. In turn the mercenaries provided physical protection for the nuns.
Only senior sisters tended to travel beyond the Abbey these days, and they were inevitably escorted by a bodyguard of mercenaries. Instead of humility and pious charity, these sisters now became known for coldness and arrogance, their purposes often to take repayment of debts (for beyond mandatory tithes, Sister Creed was extending banking services from the Abbey — the nuns had come to own a good share of the wealth of the surrounding lands, and now that they had mercenary enforcement, there was no hesitation to take repayment by force). The Abbey was now unashamedly recruiting and promoting the most ruthless and ambitious sisters, its continued growth becoming an end in itself.
The Abbey’s enormous reserves of coin and treasure, carefully, lovingly tended by Creed, was used strictly for the benefit of the Abbey itself, and the more senior members of the sisterhood. The new extension was built, a huge structure in elegant stonework faced with white marble. It included a new great hall, larger, more opulent quarters, a wall and gatehouse (undesirables and the poor MUST be kept out!), a new bathhouse, dedicated suites of rooms for each of the Sisters Superior to manage the affairs of their calling, and best of all the Inner Sanctum.
This was a series of chambers high above the hall in which the Abbess and her Sisters Superior dwelt, highly defensible with a single portal for access (and a secret escape route), private bathroom, separate kitchen and refectory, treasury, special library, and several other rooms and features awaiting their purposes to be discovered. In the grand and spacious central foyer to the new wing stood a thirty foot high gilded statue of the Abbess in all her splendour, and smaller but no less exquisite statues of each of the Sisters Superior stood guard at the entrance to their domains. Money was also found to upgrade the camp of the Legion of Blood to a complex of low stone buildings, far less ornate than the Abbey, but functional and fit for purpose.
As the Abbey’s wealth and power waxed, so did its moral corruption become complete. Little in the way of religious observance now occurred, save for some special shows put on for visitors. Sister Horslip had added a number of senior mercenaries to her Disciplinari forces, and their strict and often ruthless enforcement of rules made at the whim of the Abbess cultivated a climate of paranoia among the lower ranking nuns, while those lucky enough to be more senior could bully and abuse as they wished with no fear of consequences. Plots, schemes and power-plays amongst the sisterhood abounded as the ambitious and ruthless sisters strove to increase their personal power and diminish that of their rivals. Even the mercenaries were terrified of Horslip and the experiences of her ‘halls of discipline’ where transgressors were taken, often by force, sometimes not to return.
On the other hand, Sister DeLor’s chambers of pleasure constituted a venue that both nuns and mercenaries desired to visit as often as possible. Recruiting ever greater numbers of Sensuari from brothels, as well as from amongst the most sexually promiscuous of the nuns, DeLor prided herself on being able to arrange to satisfy any desires, however … unusual. This was attested to by the occasional disappearances, the unusual supplies delivered to the Abbey, and the growing menagerie of well-fed animals kept in the lush and fertile grounds. As well as pure sexual gratification, the Sensuari provided all manner of narcotics to enhance the experience of their clients. Many of these were highly addictive, and with a simple denial of cravings, DeLor could break a man or woman as surely as Horslip could with her instruments.
Meetings of the Sisters Superior happened less frequently now, with each sister preferring to remain in their domain where their rule was unchallenged. When they did occur however, they ran late into the evening and regularly descended into pure hedonism. One such meeting, of particular interest to Septuthiroth, occurred a few months after the new wing was completed.
“Sisters! Welcome!” purred Emelda, as the Sisters Superior filed into the opulent central chamber of the inner sanctum.
She surveyed each one as they became seated. The Abbey’s ever-growing power had been good for them all, she thought. Each sister had become more prosperous than ever before in their own unique way, and they were now all resplendent in their new robes of office. She felt a surge of pride in what she had accomplished in such a short time. Where once had been a bunch of plain, insignificant nuns in a decrepit, unsung Abbey, now there was a radiant gloriousness about the place. Fabulous sisters, big smiles, healthy bodies…and great plans for the future, for ambition did not rest upon its laurels.
Sister Horslip was a figure of beautiful menace, her robes trimmed with polished onyx gems and marked with sigils of the watchful eye. Her face was fair but cruel, with a habitual sneer, black lipstick and eyes that darted constantly around, looking for transgressors out of habit. While not the fattest of the sisters, she had bulked out pleasantly, belly, breasts and buttocks pressing out her black and white robe to a nice set of curves, but she still retained some muscles beneath her smoothly rounded out limbs, from her regular activities chastising the guilty. Around her waist was a black jewelled belt of immense proportions bearing her tools of office – manacles, an oiled whip of black leather tipped with spiked balls, and a number of other instruments of less obvious but certainly painful function.
Sister Lyre by contrast was only moderately chubby, despite her indulgences. Her robes were of an iridescent material that shimmered in the light and appeared to be different colours depending on the angle of the viewer, and had a wide variety of symbols and decorations of different origin marked upon them. Her blonde hair was elegantly tied back in a complicated plait bound with ribbons, and her face decorated with expensive jewellery that emphasized her beautiful mouth. She took her place with a bemused and slightly smug look on her face, as though she knew things that the other sisters did not, which was inevitably the case given her vast web of connections.
Sister Creed wore the most ostentatious clothing of all, her robes trimmed with plush vermillion velvet and fur, and decorated with much gold. She carried a large selection of keys strapped to a glittering belt; keys to the many vaults and treasuries of the Abbey. Also on her belt was a container holding a thick book detailing every golden penny that was in her loving care.
Of all the Sisters, she had indulged to the greatest excess, and was now almost spherical, with features largely defined by the way that the different swollen domes of fat that constituted her body ran into one another. Multiple chins flowed all the way down from her mouth to the beginning of her vast cleavage; her eyes were sunken deeply behind fat cheeks; her legs flaring outwards at the top of her extremely thick thighs to the point where the flesh ran seamlessly into her huge overhanging belly and buttocks. She could walk now only with some difficulty, and was always accompanied by a couple of burly assistants to aid her. For anything further than an adjacent room, she took a palanquin to additionally ease her efforts.
Sister DeLor stood out by the simplicity of her apparel. Her robes were the purest brightest white with not a hint of ostentation, apart from on her head and face which sported luscious makeup and jewellery, and her hands which were anointed with rings and had long, decorated fingernails. Despite their simplicity, on closer inspection her robes hugged her voluptuous figure tightly, leaving nothing to the imagination — absolutely enormous breasts overhung a slight potbelly, behind which she carried the more-than-ample curves of her bottom. She exuded strong scents and perfumes wherever she went, and Emelda knew exactly how easily her robes of ‘purity’ could be shed, revealing the exotic undergarments and irresistible flesh beneath. Nobody in the room could avoid turning their heads as she passed.
There were numerous mirrors in the inner sanctum, and Emelda had little difficulty in finding her own reflection to admire, the greatest, most beautiful of them all, she thought. Her figure certainly was magnificent. Almost as fat as Sister Creed, almost as voluptuous as Sister DeLor, her fine robes incorporated elements from all her sisters’ decorations, and surpassed them with a high, stiffened collar bearing gold and jewelled devices that ringed around her head like a crown, or a gaudy halo. With their new ostentatious robes, wearing of evening dresses to such meetings had fallen out of fashion again. It helped that the Sisters seldom ended up wearing their clothes for the entire evening these days anyway.
Excellent, she thought to herself, as she called the meeting to order. She was so proud of her sisters. They were so beautiful, so powerful, so sophisticated. Fitting rulers for the greatest Abbey in England, and her ambition was not going to stop there. She would grab and claw more power without pause until the Abbey was the greatest religious institution in the world. When she gained the authority to re-interpret Church doctrine, when every priest in every country hung on her words to pass to the masses, she would be … she would be … Emelda realised that she was panting, becoming hot and moist with excitement. Too soon, the meeting was just beginning. She fanned herself and tried to calm down.
Magnus was also present, no longer armoured but in a fine orange shirt. He jokingly claimed to consider himself an ‘honorary nun’ given that he was usually present at all major meetings in order to represent the legion. He lounged reclining in a plush, heavy chair, feet in soft slippers propped upon the table.
“Sisters, settle down now! We have much to discuss. Foremost, before we hear reports from all of you, there are several matters of some urgency for the attention of our beloved protectors of the Legion of Blood. Sister Lyre, would you care to speak on our behalf?”
Sister Lyre stood up, plainly pleased to have the opportunity to speak.
“Certainly, O Great High Abbess. Firstly, let me thank you on behalf of us all for your magnificent leadership. Under your authority we have gone from strength to strength, and now stand amongst the greatest of the subtle powers that guide the Church and the nation. Truly you are radiant with glorious light.”
Emelda’s pride swelled up with each fawning line. She already knew of her own greatness, but to hear sycophantic flattery from those with some power of their own was … intoxicating. At each meeting Lyre’s voice was ever more sibilant, sweet and honeyed, enrapturing all who listened.
“Secondly, reports have come to our attention of the moral decline of the Monastery of St. Cedds, some dozen miles to the north of here. The brethren there have become decadent and backwards in their thinking, and pose something of an embarrassment to the Church. I have spoken to my good friend Haribald Archer, bishop of the diocese, and he rather agrees with my view on this matter.
“He feels that regrettably, the decline of the monastery cannot be reversed, and when it inevitably falls, as it may do at any time now, since the increased activity of brigands in the area,” a subtle but meaningful look at Magnus, “Its land and property should be divided equally between the bishop and the Abbey. Any such hypothetical brigands would most likely have stolen all of the substantial reserves of golden ceremonial decorations and relics present in the monastery for themselves, and would probably have earned a bonus on top of that from any employers they did not have. Nonetheless the acquisition of the land, buildings, tenant farmers and other chattels would prove a boon to furthering the great works of the Abbey.”
Across the table, sister Creed was practically salivating over the thought of the wealth she could extract from a substantial increase to the Abbey estate.
“Say no more, sisters,” Magnus piped up in response, “I’m sure the bandits will strike any time now. I reckon Wednesday-week.”
“Perhaps Monday-week,” countered Lyre, “News of the destruction would then reach the bishop before an important meeting at which he could officially re-distribute the lands.”
“Monday-week it is,” Magnus sighed.
Truly the nuns had more ruthless efficiency about them than many generals and warlords he had worked for.
“Moving on,” said Sister Lyre, “Some of you may have heard of the Witch of Jerusalem?”
Shaking of heads, apart from Emelda who had of course been briefed by Lyre ahead of time.
“A fiend in female form, a monster of depravity so steeped in unholy arts that the heathens themselves fear her. She was captured from the dungeons of a Turkish stronghold during the crusades. The Church has deemed that she be toured around the country and presented as evidence of the debased nature of their enemies, to rally support for further crusading effort.
“The Church authorities have proved most stubbornly insistent on their plan despite my most reasonable advice that such a dangerous sorceress should be kept prisoner somewhere more well equipped to defend against the evil powers, such as the Abbey. However, the route the caravan will take as it tours the land has been revealed to me, and it will pass within half a day’s travel of here within a few weeks. Our duty is clear — if the Church does not recognise the threat that this heretic poses, we must act to secure it, but covertly. I can give details of the intended route and dates. She must be taken alive and unharmed. No witnesses must see where she went. I have a description of her – find a girl who matches close enough and leave her body with the caravan. Imagination will do the rest.”
Emelda’s thighs tingled as the plan was prepared. The most crucial part of all her web of schemes was progressing well! Soon, the secrets would be revealed to her!
“Hmmm … tricky, going up against other veterans most like. Going to be difficult … expensive,” mused Magnus.
“We will pay triple the normal rate!” Emelda countered, to the obvious chagrin of Creed, who did not like to be gainsaid in matters of finance, “We must have her!”
And so it was agreed.
The rest of the meeting turned to more mundane matters of administration, which was largely going smoothly and Emelda found perfectly tedious, other than a general sense of pride that everything was running smoothly in accordance with her will. Later, a large feast was brought out for the Sisters and Magnus.
Food of exquisite quality was devoured in huge quantities, Emelda, as had become her habit, glutted herself until her belly was stuffed full and swollen with rich meats and sugary desserts. Wine flowed freely and the conversation became more informal, turning to more hedonistic matters. As the evening drew on, a dozen Sensuari accompanied by assistant bondsmen came to the chamber bringing pleasant indulgences to round off the evening.
For sister Horslip, they brought a stripped prisoner, abducted from the streets of Newcrofte, for Horslip was unable to experience sexual arousal unless pain was being inflicted as part of the process. The Sensuari knelt in front and behind her, caressing her, licking her intimate regions and goading her to greater acts of cruelty with giggles and encouragement as she wielded her spiked whip on the helpless man, grunting with delight at each cry she drew from him.
For sister Creed, they brought a chest of gold and jewels. She loved the feel of gold on her body, and was partial to consuming some of the smaller, thicker coins, which she swallowed whole. Being pure gold, the corrosion-resistant metal built up inside her stomach, adding to her prodigious weight and giving her a lovely sense of her intrinsic value. Not just her stomach though — the hoard they brought included smooth precious stones.
These they placed in between her legs and gently, sensuously worked them deep inside her with fingers and a thick golden rod, all the while titillating her labia and clitoris with well-trained tongues. So enthusiastic was Creed in demanding more, and deeper, that they had never been known to return, and her very womb was now stuffed with the precious stones. Sometimes she would clink or jingle if she turned too suddenly, though she seldom made any fast moves these days. For every stone and coin she imbibed this way she was first sure to calculate its worth, in order to know the full value of her insanely engorged body.
The Sensuari assigned to Sister Lyre were the most talkative of those at DeLor’s disposal. Not only did they massage, kiss and lick her plump body all over, they were constantly whispering praise and worship into her ears. Lyre smiled radiantly and waved her head around as if trying to focus her ears to hear their praise more clearly, and talked back constantly to them and to herself, affirming their praise and adulation, basking in their worship of her amazing nature.
“Yes, you are right, I am so beautiful and perfect every inch of me is divine my voice is so sensuous and covered in honey and my influence and reach is unsurpassed and I have an ear in every court and nobles and kings eat from my hand, oh me, oh my, oh yesss …”
The Sensuari assigned to the High Abbess and to Magnus brought even more food and wine, gently feeding them ever-greater quantities of creamy, sugar-laden desserts and strong liquor, as they were positioned facing one another, to watch each-other’s bodies swell up with more and more gluttony. Their exposed bellies were oiled and massaged to aid in stuffing them to the greatest possible degree.
When they could eat no more, the acolytes moved on to other orifices, continuing the gluttony by pressing firm girthsome marzipan rods into Emelda’s plump vagina, one after another, each pushing the previous one deeper and further swelling her up. When this also had reached its limit, the Sensuari urged them to lean forwards, embracing each other.
This they did with great difficulty due to their huge swollen bellies pressing against one another, but as soon as they were sufficiently forwards in their seats, the acolytes began stuffing more confectionery bars into each of their anuses simultaneously, anointing them in slippery grease first for lubrication.
Only when these too were well and truly stuffed to the limit, and beginning to bulge outwards with the pressure, did the Sensuari bring them to a combined climax, reclining, oiling and pushing Magnus to help him find his way inside Emelda and then pressing into both of their taut swollen corpulences in just the right places and with just the right rhythm to squeeze every bloated, overfull part of their bodies against their aroused genitals, causing them to moan, grunt and reach an incredible shared orgasm.
As for Sister DeLor herself, she went from Sister to Sister, assuring that all were being pleasured correctly according to her plans, before allowing herself to sink back into a heap of cushions while two of her acolytes pleasured her with a variety of golden and jewelled rods of different widths and shapes, placed in various orifices. She took particular pleasure in directing her minions as they worked, specifying each thrust, each rotation, each kiss to her exacting standards. Even as she came in a long, slow, tightly controlled orgasm she was directing the precise movements to be made inside her for her greater pleasure.
The next day, the inner sanctum remained sealed as was becoming traditional following meetings of the Sisters Superior. Food and drink were admitted however.
Sister Lyre had found an old law that permitted the practise of serfdom by the Abbey by an ancient royal dispensation. As such, Sister Creed had been able to acquire a significant number of indentured servants, of both sexes, suitable for heavy work beneath both the nuns and the mercenaries. The term ‘slave’ was discouraged by the Sisters Superior, although it was a fair description of their status.
THE END OF CHAPTER FIVE