Feature Writer: YANKEE DAN
Feature Title: THE ABBEY OF DISILLUSION 3
Story Codes: Erotic Horror
Synopsis: Caroline’s transition into lesbian submissive continues
Author’s Notes: The next chapter will include a substantial monster rape scene and as such I shall place it in the “Non Human” category protecting unwitting readers from an unwelcome change in content and me from angry comments. Additionally, Chapter 5 will open with enough of a recap that those who don’t wish to see our poor nuns violated by eldritch horrors can skip 4 and still follow what is happening.
The Abbey of Disillusion 3
Therefore God gave them up in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, to the dishonoring of their bodies among themselves, because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen — Romans 1:24-25
May 23, 1933
Mother Superior is a Wolf in sheep’s clothing; therefore I must be as a viper in the grass. Most of the Sisters of the abbey don’t lock their doors, none imagine their fellows as thieves. I took advantage of this today by entering Mother Superior’s room while she was leading prayers. Nothing unusual greeted me when I first opened the door, in fact her quarters were remarkably plain, as though in imitation of the Franciscans. I wondered if she imagined herself humble.
There was a diary on the simple desk in the corner and while I peaked at it I saw her records where more simple notes than a chronicle of events. Flipping through the pages I saw most were mundane, having to do with matters related to the running of the convent. There were a few that caught my eye:
“The man is a delight, and I thank Shub-Niggurath for bringing him to me.”
“The female Stragtelvar have two vaginal openings, this makes me quite curious to see the male.”
“Einstein was right, space is relative.”
It was in fact this last entry that intrigued me the most for I wondered what prompted its writing and an idea grew in my head that I would investigate later, but I put it aside to continue my search. The Mother Superior’s room, simple as it was, did not take long to explore. There was no key of such type that might open Dumonte’s cell, and I realized that a search of her office would be next.
I will have to wait for such an opportunity tomorrow, in the meantime I began to walk the halls, counting my steps. I returned to my room where I have just drawn a diagram of the second and third floors. It confirmed what I already suspected.
There is not enough space in the convent for the stairwell leading to the dungeon.
xxxxx
May 24, 1933
Margaret interrupted my plans to infiltrate the Mother Superior’s office today. She came by in the morning with Lily and invited me to breakfast. After this meal I could not escape the clutches of social circumstance. I was positively dragged from breakfast to prayer meeting to apostolate work in Arkham.
This last was a first for me. As I sat on the back of the bus driving to Arkham, sandwiched tightly between Margaret and Lily, my stomach churned nervously. Both of them wore the habits of Providence Abbey, elegant attire that marked them as full Sisters, while I wore the simple dress of a novitiate. I also knew as we drove to Arkham that we would be among my former clientele. I dreaded the possible ridicule that could be hurled at me, or worse the Sisters who graciously took me in.
The work, I discovered, was with the children of Arkham State Orphanage. They were a depressing sight, but still seem to retain some of their innocence, and fortunately no one there knew me. Afterwards instead of returning straight to the convent Margaret suggested we see a talkie.
That talkie was, “Safe in Hell,’ a film which I can only describe as deplorable. It was full of sexual innuendo and when I realized that the main character was a prostitute I cast a sideways glance at Margaret, but she made no indication that anything was amiss. Indeed afterwards on the journey home Lily seemed enthused by it. As we parted ways for bed Margaret looked at me with a wicked smile. I looked down, feigning the shy school girl, and glanced at her in a manner that always enticed the men.
I believe it had the same effect on Margaret, and she nodded silently to me, concluding a conversation Lily was completely unaware of. I waited until the convent had grown quiet and proceeded to her room. As soon as I had tapped quietly on her door it flung open.
“Come on we need to hurry,” Margaret said to me in an excited whisper.
She grabbed my hand and led me, bewildered, through the halls, at length we came to Lily’s room.
I mouthed silently, ‘What are we doing.”
Margaret shushed me, and leaning into my ear whispered, “She talks to herself when she does it.”
She then slowly put her ear to the door, motioning for me to do the same.
At first there was nothing, then I heard a sharp intake of breath and Lily’s voice …
“Don’t, don’t …”
Margaret, her face mere inches from mine, broke into a delighted smile. I was confused for a long moment, and then I understood. I heard Lily groan.
“Don’t take me, uh, you’re so strong … ahhhh, Mr. please …”
Lily was masturbating on the other side of the door! The girl, so innocent and unworldly, was touching herself in lust. I tried to picture what she was doing, her dainty form, naked on her bed, the smooth soft skin of her legs glistening with sweat by the light of a few candles.
She had said that she had joined the convent at sixteen, and she’d been here for years. She must have had to learn how to pleasure herself without even a man to watch her. I thought that perhaps she was only pawing at her cunt, ignorant of how to work her clam, chest huffing with need but unable to find release.
Margaret stood and pulled me up as well. She pushed me back, motioning for me to stay. Then, brazenly, she knocked on the door. A startled cry sounded from within as Lily realized her plight. I put my hands over my mouth, shocked, but worse was to come, for Margaret then reached down and grabbed the door handle and the Sisters don’t lock their doors.
“Lily I was just, oh! Lily! What are you doing?”
Margaret’s feigned shock would have made me laugh if I hadn’t been frozen with terror.
A stumbling sound came from within the room as Lily no doubt tried to quickly hide her sinful activities. I heard Margaret’s voice, comforting Lily, telling her it was okay. The door closed and I rushed to it, placing my ear against the door. There were soft whisperings, and I was greatly frustrated by my inability to hear what was going on. At length it grew quiet, and I could hear my own heartbeat for a time.
Soon their voices raised, and I caught the words.
“Would you do it for me, Sister Margaret?”
“Lily! Really you’d want … me to touch you?”
“I’ll close my eyes and pretend you’re a man, a big strong man, and you’re about to ravish me.”
“Hmmm,” I heard Sister Margaret, pretending to be unsure, “Only if you swear that you’ll never tell anyone.”
There was a pause, then …
“Ah! You can’t, you … don’t … touch me there … uggh … Good Sir … this is a sin …”
My mouth watered as I imagined Margaret rubbing Lily’s tight young pussy. I pictured myself kneeling between the young woman’s legs, yes I’d show her something sinful!
“It’s just us,” Margaret said, “You don’t need to worry. Look you didn’t even know how to do it. I’ll just show you. You need to rub around the sides, and when you’re ready… this is the spot.”
“Uh, uh, uhhh, ohhhh! God oh, God, oh God!” Lily was panting loudly, I looked up and down the hall.
Praise Jesus her room was fairly isolated.
Listening to Margaret touch Lily for the first time was incredibly erotic. My own cunt was crying for attention, but I was horribly exposed in the hallway. At first sense ruled me, despite the frustration and desire for released building in my chest, but then I heard Lily’s voice cut off, followed by the pop of lips sucking on something and pulling away.
Oh my God where is she kissing her?
Margaret was corrupting her, taking this sweet child of God and showing her the forbidden fruit. I knew first hand how delicious it was, how shamefully addicting the touch of another woman can be, especially Margaret. She’s so sensual, my Margaret, that she could have lined up half the preachers in Georgia to fornicate despite the fires of Hell burning clear in the distance.
I yearned to be in the room with her, but Margaret had invited me to listen, not participate. I’m ashamed to admit I’m tied around her little finger, and I’ll do anything she tells me. I’ll lick her sweety asshole, eat her pussy, suck her toes, help her debase the youngest, sweetest Sister in the convent.
Anything.
I reached under my clothes, fingers circling and dancing through the folds of my sex, embracing Margaret’s ownership of me, I whispered her name in the empty hallway as madness overtook me, frigging myself frantically against Lily’s door while I heard her coming from Margaret’s ministrations.
I hardly realized Margaret was coming out until she was actually dragging me to my feet.
“Lord Jesus, what are you doing? Get up harlot!”
She led me, sweaty and disheveled, back to her room, pushing me to my knees and practically ripping off her habit.
“God that little tramp got me so worked up, did you hear it? Did you hear her cute little voice when she came like a geyser? Come on now, time for you to get me off,” she hissed at me.
“Yes Sister!”
I complied immediately, climbing up her legs and burying my face in her snatch.
God it’s so soft, sweat warm blankets embracing me at the end of a hard day, I wanted to wrap myself within her folds, and I licked her in long, loving strokes that started at the base of her vaginal opening and parted the sea of her flesh until her clit fell off the tip of my tongue.
“Enjoyed that didn’t you, filthy pervert?” she said.
I nodded as I sucked on her labia. Sweet Lord the feeling of her wetness on my lips! I clang to her legs like a woman tossed overboard, with one buoyant object to save her.
“That little tramp sprayed like a fire-hose when she popped, you wouldn’t believe it possible if you didn’t see it … ughhh, yes lick me … I think her cunt might be the softest thing I’ve ever felt, like a feather made flesh.”
I pictured Lily’s cunt showering my face with its juices as she came, warm and thick like a heavy rain, Margaret madly twirling the Sister’s pearl in her fingers as we indoctrinated her into our own cult of depravity.
“Do you think she’d let you lick her pussy? She is a proper woman, not sure she’d want a whore like you … finger yourself … spread your legs more let me see, good … did I say stop?”
Margaret enjoyed my attentions for a moment more before ordering me to the bed. I lay back, licking my lips and preparing myself for what I knew was coming, what we both wanted. She climbed over me onto the bed, kissing my breast. I jerked as she gently bit my nipples, a quick stab of pain, somehow exciting my lions.
“Ah! Sister!”
“Is that too hard?” she asked me.
I thought for a moment.
“Harder.”
Smirking, Margaret sucked and bit my nipples until they grew sore, arching from the sweet abuse. Eventually I begged her to stop.
“Sure,” she said, “What do you want me to do instead?”
I spoke it so softly that I could not hear it myself, and Margaret leaned towards me.
“What was that? You want me to go?”
I shook my head and tried again, making my perverse request.
“Sit on my face … let me lick you.”
“Take a deep breath, time to give you what you want dyke.”
Margaret kissed me, biting my lower lip. I don’t know what came over me, but I said it, as she kissed me, as she paused to take a breath, I said it.
“I love you, Margaret!”
Once said my breath caught in my throat. It was too much, too far I was sure. Her fingers slowly squeezed my hair, pulling my head back, emphasizing her dominance as she looked down on me.
“It’s Sister Margaret,” she said.
“Yes … Sister Margaret,” I meekly whimpered as she pinched one of my sore nipples.
Then she kissed me again, and kissed my cheek, softly trailing her tongue to my ear, teasing my earlobe for a moment before whispering, “I love you too.”
Tears well up in my eyes and a sob escaped me. Sister Margaret pushed me down hard, commandingly.
“Now eat my cunt you dirty lesbian,” she ordered me.
My arms wrapped around her beautiful thighs as they covered my face, her cunt dripping onto my lips. She leaned back and I licked at the taut skin between her asshole and vagina, then up over her vulva, wiggling under the hood of her little pearl, finding it and just devouring it.
I gazed lovingly up through the valley of her breast at her face, eyes closed as she savored my utter devotion to her sex. Every grunt and groan she made delighted me, reinforcing my desire to do more, do better, make her squeal in ecstasy.
Margaret used me for hours, riding my face until late into the night. My tongue is sore, and my neck stiff, but I’m so, so satisfied. I love her!
I love Sister Margaret!
But I haven’t forgotten the night I lost track of her in my wing. I dare not ask her, I’m too afraid of the answer.
xxxxx
May 25, 1933
This morning Margaret came by to warn me, the bishop would visit today. I believe that she meant to warn me that we must be on our best behavior, but I realized it was a perfect opportunity to search the Mother Superior’s office. The abbess must meet the bishop at the train station on Arkham’s Northside, this would take her at least two hours.
I saw Lily at breakfast, and I am concerned. She seemed a bit disheveled, while myself and Margaret are committed conspirators, integrating our affair into our daily rituals while giving onlookers little cause to question, Lily is visibly conflicted after simply letting Margaret frig her to one orgasm. I asked her what was wrong, and she claimed nothing. I told her she could come see me any time. With luck if she confesses to someone it will be me, and I can talk her down.
I found the Mother Superior’s office unlocked, as expected. There was no immediate sign of the arcane objects that I had witnessed in the room previously at first, but as I searched I began to find them. The painting of Saint Augustus on her door, when removed, revealed another painting, this on the door itself.
The image was remarkable, done in the style of the impressionist, and conveyed the idea of a thing very vividly, if not it’s concrete form. A great beast was the central figure, but it was unlike any beast I have ever seen in life. It had the legs of a goat, and wings. It had far too many eyes, and mouths. It appeared to be birthing other creatures, monstrous abominations of every description pouring forth upon a landscape of dark woods, the kneeling figures of people who seemed to worship the thing scattered among the trees. Beneath the image were the words, “The Black Goat.”
A box in the corner contained numerous items whose functions I was unsure of, but most interesting was the book. In her desk drawers I discovered a book, ancient in origin and written, not printed, in Latin. Throughout the book were pages someone had inserted, translations and notes. I saw also arcane symbols, and after shifting through the book for several minutes I noticed that one entry had far more notes than any other.
This page of the book prominently displayed a strange symbol, which, while drawn on the page, seem to move and have three dimensions about it. I wondered if it was some new painting style but as I blinked, attempting to understand how the artist created this effect, it made my head spin. I studied the notes closely, they claimed it was part of a spell, which it referred to as, “Cogere.” This spell would make a person open to suggestion. A person under this spell, the notes claimed, would do almost anything short of acts with obvious immediately catastrophic consequences.
The notes detailed how humans could tap into powerful, otherworldly forces, which our ancestors called magic. This power could be granted by beings referred to as, “Outer gods,” such as, “Yogg-Sothoth.” I was so intrigued that I didn’t notice the time pass. My heart sank as I heard her voice coming, and I knew that discovery was certain. I had lingered too long and now would be found out. I wracked my brain for a plan but only one ploy come to mind, one reason I might be secretly waiting in her office.
“Caroline?” the abbess asked, surprised to see me when she opened the door.
I stood, eyes downcast, hand clasped in subservience. I crossed the room slowly, raising my face.
“What is it, Caroline?” the abbess asked, concern in her voice.
Then I kissed her. I made sure it was an uncertain kiss, nervous and tentative. The Mother Superior didn’t respond at first, but when she did she strongly grabbed my hips, pushing her tongue into my mouth. The kiss lingered for thirty seconds or so, and when she pushed me back I did not need to feign a bit of breathlessness. She reached up and took my head in her hands.
“Not right now my child. The bishop is here. He is going to come in this room, and when he does you will act proper, do you understand?”
I nodded, and she whispered in my ear, “Come to my room tonight, at nine.”
A knock came at the door.
“Come in!” she shouted.
The bishop walked in. He was tall, and all in black, with olive skin. When he spoke, I knew he was a Spaniard.
“Is this her?” he asked.
“Yes, Ms. Lapham, meet Bishop Santoro.”
“Good afternoon, Bishop,” I said.
I was entirely unsure what the formalities of meeting a visiting bishop are.
“The abbess has told me so much about you, young Caroline, do you mind if I call you Caroline?” he asked me, to which I agreed.
We made small talk, and he asked me to accompany him on his tour of the grounds. We walked through the abbey, where I became largely a third wheel, listening to the abbess and bishop discuss the daily going ons. After a time, the bishop announced that he would begin taking confessions. I learned that several times a year an “Extraordinary,” confessor is made available to the sisters of the abbey, so that they have an outsider to confess to.
He invited me to be first, but when I sat inside the confession booth, I could say nothing. After a long moment of silence the bishop spoke, asking what I wanted to confess. I told him I wasn’t sure.
“Congratulations,” he said.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“On being without sin.”
We both laughed at this, and after a moment I said, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
“Trust the Lord’s mercy, he will help guide you.”
“It has been two months since my last confession,” I began, “I have impure thoughts, lustful. I distrust some of the Sisters … I have delayed doing what’s right.”
“May God, who watches all his flock, give you the strength to resist temptation,” he replied, “Lustful thoughts… I should expect so. Do the other Sisters give you grief for your past?”
“Sometimes, ” I admitted, though I could not speak under what circumstances.
“Remind them of John 8:7,” he counseled me.
It was later when he came to my room. My stomach twisted in knots immediately when he came into my room, seeming entitled to simply step inside and close the door. Alone together with this strange foreign man I felt suddenly nervous. I flashed back to some of the men I’d been with in Arkham.
“There’s something I want to give you,” he said.
My heart sank, I knew, I just knew, what he wanted to give me.
And then he pulled a small statue from his pocket, perhaps four inches tall, it was a beautiful, hand painted figure of a woman in robes. On its base was inscribed, “Mary Magdalene.”
“I have blotted out your transgressions like a cloud and your sins like mist; return to me, for I have redeemed you,” he recited, “Do not be ashamed of your past, Caroline. You are reborn in Jesus Christ, and that isn’t the person you are anymore.”
My voice cracked, and I wanted to tell him everything, about the Mother Superior, about me and Margaret, to ask for his help for Dumonte, but I just couldn’t, there was too much risk. Too often I’ve seen women called hysterical for making bold claims, he could have gone straight to the abbess and reported that my sanity was in question.
At the appointed hour I went to Mother Superior’s room, I had to, in order to maintain the charade. She opened the door as soon as I had made the tentative tapping. She was in a red nightgown, and invited me in. I looked about the room, she had a candle burning on her dresser, and I saw two wineglasses there as well. She offered me one, surprising me, which I drank.
“How has Margaret been?” she asked me.
My mind raced. I was unsure what she knew, so I decided to assume she knew nothing, that I might not give anything away.
“She has been well Mother Superior. She tells me she barely considers her urges anymore.”
The abbess smiled at me.
“But not so for us hmmm?”
I shook my head, no.
“I imagine, the life you led, it wasn’t easy to come here. No men, a bunch of stuffy old nuns judging you.”
“Well,” I said, “It isn’t so bad.”
“Hhmph, don’t be coy,” the Mother Superior replied, sitting on the bed, and motioning for me to do the same, “I was married, you know? Ten years, hmmm, to a virile man. He was strong, and gentle too when the time was right, forceful when I needed it. He fucked me every way from Sunday.”
My eyes grew wide at her last statement, such a frank admission … I had to remind myself what I already knew about her.
“I was a dotting wife to him. His needs were ordinary I would say, but he was open to … experimentation. I proposed that we go through the Karma Sutra in our first year of marriage. Hmm, it only took a month though. He loved every part of my body. I pleasured him not just with my cunt but with my ass, my hands, my mouth, my feet… even my armpits,” she broke out laughing at this, “There’s not an inch of my skin that never felt the touch of his semen.”
As she spoke I saw it, her key chain. It was there, just sitting on her nightstand, she must keep it on her person normally.
“When he died I became a nun, but unlike most of the women here I know what I’m missing,” she continued, “As do you, hmm? Tell me, what was it like, working as a whore?”
She refilled my glass as she spoke.
I thought for a moment.
“It was hard.”
One of the keys was very old, simple in construction. I felt sure that was the key to Dumonte’s cell.
She looked at me for a moment.
“And?”
“Some of the men used in ways that … I often think about.”
“Tell me, if you could relive one such experience, what would it be?”
I thought about this for a moment, there were several that would frequently be in my thoughts, but I remembered one in particular.
“There was a man who brought me to his home. He was a widower. He made me get on my hands and knees, like a dog, and he penetrated me from behind.”
“Oh tell me more, what exactly did he have you do?” Mother Superior pried.
“He put me on the bed first, he kissed me which is often not done. He played with my breast, that is a common fixation for the Johns, but he was especially interested in my ass. He had a … large mouth. There were teeth marks all over me, but I enjoyed it.
My butt hurt me for days when I sat down, it perversely reminded me of the act and I liked it. Then he had me get on my hands and knees. He licked me from behind before he took me. He wouldn’t let me leave the house all day, I daresay he did not pay me enough, but I left without complaint … and I came back to offer me my services several times.”
“Beautiful,” the abbess said, “Did the men often lick your sex?”
“No,” I explained, “But it happened enough that I began the habit of shaving down there, to help keep myself clean … between men you see.”
I thought perhaps this sordid fact may put her off, but she seemed unphased.
“You say he took you on all fours … did he take your ass?”
I shook my head.
“No … I have never engaged in sodomy.”
“Really?” the abbess said.
She stood, opening her nightgown. She placed one leg on the bed next to me, putting on a lascivious display. I saw her supple breast, her body thick but with a dim outline of strong muscle underneath the soft fat, promising a myriad of sensations if one would entangle themselves with it. I wondered what sorts of exercises she did and then my eyes were drawn down to her large jungle of black pubic hair.
“Does it bother you? That I’m not shaved?”
I shook my head, no it didn’t. I idly reached out and ran my hand through her bush, sensing that I was invited to do so, letting the hairs curl between my fingers. My mouth started to water.
The mother superior reached out and picked up the wine bottle, then to my shock she poured some over her breast. The wine dripped down her stomach, flowing in branches and tertiaries like the amazon into the jungle of her untamed sex. I leaned forward, licking her stomach, lapping the wine from her skin. The abbess lowered her breast to my mouth.
“I have an admission,” she said, as I licked the chardonnay from between her tits. “When I first started working with Sister Margaret I wanted to help her but … now I know she can’t be helped.”
The scent of alcohol, and her arousal, filled my lungs, I breathed it deeply, making slurping, popping sounds as I worked her soft breast. She poured more wine onto her tits as I licked, neither of us caring that it dripped down our legs.
“You see to correct her behavior I tried to train her that sex between women is associated with pain, ahhhh you have a skilled tongue, but you see she enjoys the pain. I wonder what Throndike would make of that.”
I stopped my work for a moment and looked up at her.
“Don’t you worry?” I asked.
She stroked my hair.
“About what, dear?”
“Our sin,” I told her, a genuine question, “These unnatural desires for other women?”
“Oh dear,” she laughed at me, “You mean your sin. I’m no lesbian, no don’t stop. Smell me, go ahead. We both know you want to.”
Confused and uncertain, I pushed my face into her bush, the strands tickling my nose. I inhaled her scent deeply, it was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and forgot the world for a moment, nuzzling amidst her womanhood, lost in a dense jungle, safe from the world. There was warmth, nectar, safety, comfort, her hands on the back of my head assured me this was my place, a home I could retreat to, a shrine I could worship at for a Goddess truly deserving of my undying service.
“Ummm, you’re good Caroline, and yes, I’ll let you service me, but I’m no lesbian. It’s a man I really need but ahhh, your soft tongue is better than my fingers isn’t it? After all we are wed to Christ, so we are one family, nothing wrong with two wives pleasuring each other before their lord husband is there?”
I pulled back, catching my breath.
“Do … you have this relationship with other Sisters?”
The Mother Superior pushed me back onto the bed, climbing on top of me as she let her robe fall off.
“Every abbess needs a few Sapphic minded Sisters in her convent, after all we all have needs don’t we? A few lesbian slaves, so useful in my position. You know that more than most.”
The abbess turned herself around, presenting her ass to me.
“Sodomize me with your tongue,” she ordered me, blunt in her desires.
Damn my rotten soul I marveled at her plump ass. Naked, she was exuding confidence, as if her dominance over me was a foregone conclusion. I kissed her ass-cheeks, slowly moving inward. The deep valley called to me, and I licked up and down it, creeping inward. As it became slick I could slide my face deeper. I was so absorbed the drip of wine into my mouth was a surprise to me. I looked up and saw that Mother Superior was pouring wine onto the small of her back, which ran into my mouth when I stuck my tongue out, forming a ramp sandwiched between her ass-cheeks.
“Ooohh, you’re so eager,” the abbess observed, “What a delightful slut you are.”
Things were getting blurry at this point, and my drunkenness made me even more pliable for the abbess to use to her heart’s desire. She sat back on my face, covering my mouth and nose with her ass, allowing me to force my tongue inside. After a few moments I felt a familiar burning in my lungs for air, and I tapped on my Goddess’s legs, trying to signal that I wanted air.
“Mmmm, Caroline the feeling of you struggling is strangely arousing. I don’t believe I’ve ever had a little slut quite as pathetic as you.”
Her words penetrated me as deeply as any man’s cock ever had, but I didn’t want to pass out under her. I grew afraid, this woman could make me disappear I realized. She could take me to her dungeon where I’d never be seen again.
“A few lesbian slaves,” she had said.
I struggled under her, tried to push her off. She grabbed my hands, laughing. Her ass, large and warm, was wrapped tightly around my face. I was buried alive in its tender flesh. I panicked and yet … I continued to lick fervently, trying to bring her off. My efforts faded as things darkened, but just before I gave in to oblivion she raised herself up, allowing me to weakly draw breath before sitting back down.
“Don’t stop pleasing me, Caroline,” she said.
I resumed my work, Frenching her asshole as if it were my husband on our wedding night. The earthy taste of her ass filled my senses, the smell of her sweat. It should disgust me shouldn’t it? Aren’t healthy people disgusted by such things? It’s clear that I am not, I love the feelings, flavors, scents of a woman’s body. Of every part of her body. Her strong thighs had me pinned to the bed as she started rubbing her clit, driving herself to orgasm as I ate her ass.
By the time she came I was swooning, both with arousal and exhaustion. She slid off me, looking down at the mess I was. She smiled,
“You look good and ready,” she said.
“F-f-for what?” I asked, concerned.
“A hard fucking,” she replied calmy.
She reached into her nightstand for something, and in a moment I saw her strapping the stone cock to herself, the same one she had used on Margaret. I lay there, waiting, and I confess; excited.
She made me get onto my hands and knees, stripping my clothes, and kissed my ass. I realized she was allowing me to relive some measure of the widower’s attention, biting my ass cheeks and briefly licking my swollen cunt before she leaned over me, the head of the cock pressing into my pussy lips.
“Ask me,” she whispered into my ear.
“Fuck me,” I didn’t even hesitate.
The Mother Superior pushed forward, and I groaned. It had been so long since something that large had been inside me. I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lip, trembling as she took me. “Does it hurt?” She asked me, strangely tender, catching me off balance.
“Just a bit,” I said, huffing.
“Relax,” she said, and her hands caressing my sides as I adjusted, feeling the tool work slowly into me, the abbess demonstrating utmost control as she felt out my body’s resistance, opening me slowly.
When her hips touched mine I imagined the cock inside my womb, for it was so long. I felt impaled, afraid but still incredibly aroused. It was not as nice as a warm penis I will say, but the fact that it was a woman taking me in this way made me shake, with shame and pleasure.
The abbess whispered in my ear, “Fuck yourself against me.”
I began to move, rocking on her stone cock. I grunted and fucked myself against her, my ass slapping her thighs. After a few minutes I felt her driving me forward and I fell onto my stomach, the abbess laying on top me. She began to fuck my pussy with me pinned against the bed.
“Take my cock slave, moan for me, yesss cum. Cum for Mother!”
I looked back over my shoulder and saw her crazed expression, she was mad with lust, but then so was I.
“Ugghhh Mother!” I cried out, all sense leaving me.
“Tell me what it feels like,” she asked me.
“Like I’m being fucked by a horse!” I whimpered.
“And you like it?”
“Uhggghh, it’s good, it’s sooo good Mother!”
“You’re going to be my little cunt licker understand?” the Mother Superior said.
“YES,” I acknowledged what I already knew.
“You’re going to take care of my needs, because I’m a real women, while you …”
“Gaww I’m a dirty lesbian dyke!”
“That’s right Caroline, you belong beneath me.”
“Oh God, oh God, oh God …”
“Goddess,” she corrected me.
I was crying into the pillow when I had my first orgasm. On the second I was begging God to forgive me. When she turned me over and kissed me I silently prayed for forgiveness from Margaret, for I didn’t only sin against God, but against my lover, because I loved being fucked by this full, lustful, and skilled woman. I was putty under her, arms and legs wrapped around her back screaming when I had my third orgasm.
xxxxx
May 26, 1933
I spent much of the day evaluating the weed situation around the abbey. Buckthorn is growing all over the eastern banks of the Miskatonic. I hate the stuff. I’ll have to watch for the saplings taking root on our grounds and slaughter them wherever they peak up their heads.
I don’t know how I’m going to get that key. Perhaps if I keep visiting the abbess she will grow careless around me. The problem is complicated by the fact that, once taken, I am certain suspicion will immediately fall on me.
Margaret came to see me. I couldn’t tell her what was truly wrong but she sensed my agitation. She held me for a while and I asked her.
“Have you ever been in the door at the end of my hall?”
She was quiet for a while, eventually she said the strangest thing, “It’s a gateway to the Gof’nn Hupadgh.”
I looked at her questioningly, “The what?”
“Do you know what satyr are?” she asked me.
“From Greek myth?” I offered.
“There’s a dark forest on the other side of the door.”
She seemed embarrassed to tell me this, and I opened up to her.
“There’s a staircase,” I said.
She shook her head.
“That’s what we’re told, but it’s a forest on the other side of that door. Please, don’t mess with it. I used to go through it, I thought it was a fantastical realm, but it’s full of horror. It’s dangerous.”
I didn’t know what to make of this.
“Can you show me?” I pressed her.
She resisted at first, but with my persistent begging, and kisses, she agreed to show me the forest, but only to prove the danger.
We walked to the door, I had never attempted to interact with it in the daylight and it felt strange to so casually approach the forbidden entrance. I watched as Sister Margaret worked the lock, touching the symbols, arranged like a clock around the doorknob, in a familiar order.
Until the end that is, when she pushed a different symbol. I realized as she open the door that there could be multiple correct combinations and I chided myself for being so blind.
Looking into the door, no the gate I saw it. A dark forest, not dissimilar in character from that of the Massachusetts wilderness. The trees were larger, thick, powerful, seemingly ancient. The stars, for it was nighttime in that forest, twinkled brightly in the sky, beneath which flowers seemed to glow with an illuminance all their own. The flowers were of many shapes, strange to me though my knowledge of herbalism is significant, and among them fluttered small insects. Most incredibly however were the figures moving through the wood line.
At first, I took them for bucks but then the movement of their heads caused me to blink. It was not just a large array of antlers as I first thought, but a human body. What I beheld then were the mythical centaurs, whom my ancestors had spoken of but modern man foolishly forgot, concluding them to be a flight of fancy. There was singing in the dark woods, it was in a language I had never heard uttered on this earth, but it spoke to me. It was haunting and beautiful, inviting me to come swoon under the three moons with it.
Margaret shook me, screaming in my ear.
“Stop Caroline please! Lord let her hear me!” I blinked, confused, and looked down.
I stood amid the flowers, I felt the warm wind rush over me and smelled some unknown fragrance. I couldn’t place it but I just knew it was associated with a wonderful memory. It could have been the smell of my mother’s hair, or my father’s favorite coat, wrapped warm around me on a winter night. I looked back and saw that I had taken ten paces into the otherworldly scene, Margaret was trying to pull me back towards the gate, which was set on this side at the base of a cliff at least four stories high.
“Why can’t we come here?” I asked, almost sleepily.
“We can talk in the abbey Margaret, don’t listen to the singing please come back!”
I allowed her to pull me back into the abbey. After she closed the gate my ears rang with the fading songs of the other world. I looked at Margaret, full of questions, utterly confused. I suppose in a way it was easier to pretend that the stairs, although I knew it was impossible, did not conflict with or disprove my modern understanding of the world. I had been able to pretend that it only bent the rules, although deep down I knew the tomb at the top of the steps could only have meant the stairs led into another dimension.
I pushed my hands against the side of my head, trying to stop the world from spinning off its axis. The world is a veil, and at any moment realities entirely foreign, or familiar, are only a footstep away! Margaret escorted me back to my room and lay me down, where she comforted me.
“There are things in the forest,” she told me, “Much worse than black bears. Worse than gangsters and huns and communist. We can’t go there, you understand?”
“Those were centaurs, Margaret! Centaurs!” I muttered, needing to express my shock.
“I know, and the satyr, well they are a sight as well but I don’t go there anymore and I don’t want you going there.”
I nodded, but in my head I heard the singing.
xxxxx
May 27, 1933
Last night I dreamt I was in the abbey’s dungeon. I lay naked on the cell floor shivering until a large shape broke the stillness of the dark hall, wrapping a clawed hand around the door, pulling it open. I screamed in terror yet I knew no human ear was close enough to hear my cries as the beast rushed into the room.
I tried vainly to fight but it picked me up with inhuman strength, throwing me into an impossibly large mouth where I fell against its tongue, ludicrously as large as myself. The slimy bulk of it rubbed around my body, splitting open my legs to taste my cunt. Its vicious teeth, each the size of my head, open and closed. I narrowly avoided them but then felt a suction pulling me downward.
“Noo!” I cried out, trying to hold onto the squirming tongue that slathered over my flesh, pushing over my tits and licking the tears from my face.
There was nothing to cling to in the slippery orifice, and I slid back into its throat where the warm walls of its gullet enveloped me. There was a smooth drop through what felt to me several stories of throat muscles until I fell into a great cavity, splashing into noxious fluid pools on a surface so yielding it was like a net. Then the acids washed over me. This was no saving grace, no whale to rescue Jonah, but a devouring leviathan, come to destroy me.
I awoke covered with sweat, but I understood the meaning of the dream. There must be a limit to the time I delay attempting the crowbar on Mr. Dumonte’s cell. The man must have been trapped down there for a month now, and I fear the abbess does not intend to keep him indefinitely, in fact by becoming her new toy I may well have endangered him. With a whore as willing as me, even if she prefers the company of men, does she still need him?
Before morning prayers the abbess stopped by my room.
“You know Margaret, you barely come to morning prayer.”
I nodded.
“There’s a lot of work in the gardens.”
She smiled.
“Well I understand but I don’t think you realize it’s essentially mandatory.”
“Oh,” Was all I could muster, feeling silly.
Playing this game, this public front with her feels so different than the way I do with Margaret. With Margaret we are together, two against the world, but with the Mother Superior I am her captive, as though I was a frontierswoman taken by the Indians and forced to wed into the tribe, with her as my Wampanoag husband. Although of course, she is clueless as to this. I have fooled her into believing I want to be her, “Little lesbian cunt licker.”
Or have I fooled myself into believing that I don’t want to?
“Regardless,” she said, “The nuns have accepted your odd behaviors without complaint. After all with the death of your parents and your time homeless … there’s a great deal of sympathy for you in the convent,” This information caught me off guard, but she went on, “We can use your comparative freedom to our advantage. Wait for me in my office, after morning prayers I’d like us to … be alone.”
I gulped, and her licentious stare told me she approved of my nervous demeanor.
“Yes Mother Superior,” I said.
This was of course, a good opportunity to further examine the enemy’s nature, for she essentially gave me permission to be found in her office and so I went there as soon as I knew she would be occupied, giving me a half hour to investigate. My immediate desire was to study the tome in her desk and I found it in the same place. I studied fervently for thirty minutes.
The book was focused on the magical arts, which it referred to as natural parts of the universe, not supernatural. I reread the section on Cogere, contemplating how much study and practice would be needed to employ it. To the author of the book casting a spell was similar to any science, like chemistry. The magician exploits an understanding of the universe to bring about the result they desire.
I was greatly interested in references to how this functioned, but I did not have time for further study, thus I removed most of my clothing, kneeling on the floor to wait.
When she entered the room and found me in that state her reaction was exactly as I’d hoped.
“Well well, aren’t you the good little girl.” She said and, suspecting nothing, began to disrobe.
I sucked her cunt as she sat at her desk, she gave me explicit instructions to take my time, letting her enjoy a tender exploration of her sex by my tongue. She worked on her administrative duties until lunch, at which time she dismissed me, although I was aroused to quite a state by that time. I plead with my eyes for relief, but she laughed at me.
“This will wet your appetite for tomorrow evening. Come to my room again tomorrow, at nine.”
Knowing that tomorrow will be my chance to get the key I went to my room, intending to clean up and go see Margaret, but when I got to my room I found Sister Lillibridge waiting for me. She had a glum look on her face.
“Sister Lillibridge, what’s wrong?” I asked her, already knowing.
“Can we talk inside?” she asked me.
I nodded.
We sat together on my bed and I took her hand in mine.
“What is it Sister?”
There was a long pause, I could see her trying to work up the nerve.
Eventually she began, “Do you remember when we went to the movies the other day?” I nodded, “Well after we returned, Margaret came to my room and, she came on to me!”
I blinked.
“I’m sorry I’m not sure I follow.”
“She is … a lesbian,” she said it with an air of seriousness and disgust.
This would not have surprised me from any other Sister, but knowing what I did …
“Perhaps you just misunderstood.” I told her.
“No, she wanted to touch my privates, and she tried to lick my breast! I was hoping you’d seen something … perhaps you could back me up when I report her to the abbess.”
I was shocked and enraged by her words.
“Report her? What? Why?”
“Aren’t you listening, she forced herself on me! She’s a degenerate.”
I let my composure slip.
“That’s a lie, you wanted it!” Lily’s eyes went wide at this, “That’s right I heard what happened. I was there outside your door, listening.”
“You … you were there, you were with her!”
Realization dawned on Lily as she looked at me, and I immediately regretted my choice of words.
“Please don’t say anything!” I begged, “Margaret loves it here; she’ll be thrown out if this is public!”
Lily stood up, took a few steps towards my door and turned back, “I’ll report you both! Filthy whores!” She hurled at me.
I felt sick when she left, what would the abbess do? Would she cover for me and Margaret, or throw us to the wolves? I paced my room nervously, I couldn’t see Margaret in that state, so I just lay here in bed, crying and recording the day’s events.
xxxxx
May 28, 1933
The day began uneventfully. I attended morning prayers, almost hoping the hammer would fall there, immediately, so I could face the music and have it done. My Margaret misunderstood and seemed pleased I was at prayer. She sat next to me and talked happily.
“The abbess is done with me,” she whispered in my ear, “I’m all for you now, my pet.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I was now the abbess’s plaything, but I wouldn’t keep that secret long.
Afterwards I worked the fields, numbly. I did note some strange tracks on the northern side of the grounds. They appeared to have been made by a large hoofed animal, but I can’t think what creature in our region would leave prints that large.
Margaret slipped into the bath with me. I jumped, startled, as I rinsed off my sweat.
She stepped into the shower with me, naked.
“The door’s been locked,” she told me.
This was a risky ploy, I shook my head.
“Margaret we shouldn’t do it here, it could raise questions why the door’s locked.”
“Five minutes,” she told me, and took the soap, running it all over my body. Its slickness allowed her to push her hand easily between the folds of my sex, “Let me clean you,” she said, and kissed me.
I moaned into her mouth as she flicked my clit with her fingers, working a lather up between my shaking legs.
“Come back to my room later,” she whispered.
I shook my head, looking at her regretfully.
“I have to go to the Mother Superiors room.”
Her hand froze.
“No,” she said, not believing.
I nodded.
“She’s taken me for a lesbian …” my voice cracked as I told her.
“Is she trying to cure you?” Margaret asked.
This truth was so painful to say I looked down as I said it.
“No. .. she just wants me to service her … she never cared about your lesbianism she just used it to make you her plaything, but now I’m her new toy.”
Margaret step back, her face aghast.
“But you don’t want to be right?” she asked, and I knew she desperately wanted to hear me say no.
I shook my head.
“No Margaret I … I had to pretend I wanted her because she caught me snooping.”
And then it all came out, I told her about John Dumonte, and how I was trying to save him. I sobbed as I confessed, finally telling someone else what I was going though. She rushed to my and squeezed me tight.
“I’ll help you, I’ll help you … It’ll be okay Caroline.”
When I had calmed some she took my head in her hands.
“I love you,” she said.
I felt such a wave of comfort, my Margaret wouldn’t abandon me because of what I had to do for the abbess.
“Go to her,” Margaret said, “Pretend everything is as she wants, we will figure this out.”
I pulled myself together and, nice and clean for my mistress, went to the Mother Superior’s room. When I opened the door, I blinked in surprise.
“Caroline!” the Mother Superior declared happily, “Look Lily it’s our dear, what did you say, lesbian whore?”
To my shock, Lily was sitting in a chair in the corner, stripped to her underclothes. Mother Superior lay on her bed, leaning against the wall, legs crossed. The light inside was dim, lit by a candle in each corner. Mother Superior had a wine bottle in her hand, which she’d been drinking from. Her lips were stained red with it. She wore her red night gown, loosely thrown over herself without being tied. I saw one breast peeking from within.
My mind raced, what was this? My chest felt tight. Was judgement about to fall upon me? I had thought to simply be acting as the abbess’s plaything for an hour, but something more had happened. Lily had come to her, and it had complicated the evening. But things weren’t as Lily thought.
“Come in and close the door,” the Mother Superior said, with which I complied, “Lily says that you and Margaret are both disgusting lesbian whores, what do you think about that Caroline?”
“It’s true,” I said quietly.
“Indeed, but what about Lillibridge? Is she a sweet, innocent child of God?”
Lily muttered something inaudible.
“Speak up, Sister Lily,” Mother Superior said.
“I am pure of heart,” Lily said.
“Stand up then,” Mother Superior told her.
Lily stood and stepped forward. She glared daggers at me from across the room. The abbess spoke, pointing to a cross on the wall, bearing a figure of Christ.
“That’s her place, standing tall and strong, fearless in the light of the Lord.”
Lily is a smaller woman, like me, and so young. I saw that she was all in white, simple undergarments.
She appeared virginal and uncorrupted, innocent, though I knew this was not quite true. Her small, perky tits were constrained by a plain white bra, her panties were small, almost too small for her. I could see the outline of her mound, and I licked my lips. She still wore her socks as well, simple white cotton things.
“Your place, whore, is on the ground at her feet. Kneel.”
I knelt before Lily, eyes downcast.
“Look at her cute little socks,” Mother Superior said, “How do they smell, Caroline?
“Lily’s feet did indeed look cute to me in that moment, and I lowered my face, sniffing.
“Sweaty, Mother Superior,” I said, then I nudged my face closer, breathing in her scent.
Mother Superior slid out of her bed and stepped next to Lily, she reached down and took Lily’s left leg in her hand by the knee, pulling it up.
Lily spoke, “Mother Superior, if I could …”
Her words were cut off as the abbess kissed her forcefully.
The Mother Superior’s actions had lifted Lily’s left foot off the ground, and I opened my mouth, taking a toe between my lips. Lily whimpered from above, and I glanced upward, watching the abbess foundling Lily’s breast. They both began to breathe heavily. The soft cloth felt nice as I rubbed my face around her foot, drenching the sock with my spit.
I glanced up again and saw that Lily was becoming aroused. The abbess noticed it too.
“Go ahead Caroline, show her what a dirty lesbian you are.”
“Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial!” Lily hissed as she realized what was going to happen.
I kissed my way up her legs, which began to shake, likely from both fear and excitement. I enjoyed the tender skin of her thighs and sucked them so hard she whimpered, I smirked, Let the bitch hurt a bit I thought. I pressed my face into her cotton covered crotch, inhaling. She smelled so fresh, like a moist breeze off the Atlantic in August. The cloth grew damp as I nuzzled into her cunt.
She grabbed the back of my head, pulling my face into her as she ground against me for just a moment before letting go, surprised at herself. It was an unconscious reaction I’m sure, and the abbess laughed, mockingly. I glanced up and saw Lily’s face, saw how horrified she was at what she’d done. I smiled big up at her as I yanked down her panties and buried my face into her pussy. She was unshaven, but her hair was light, and very soft on my cheeks.
“Ahhhh, God what are you doing to me?” she exclaimed in pleasure and terror, her hips bucking.
The Mother Superior held her from behind, teasing her nipples with her fingers. After a moment more she hooked her arms under Lily’s, dragging her towards the bed. I followed, lapping at her cunt like a dog chasing a treat. The abbess pulled Lily onto the bed, her legs hanging off the edge.
I crawled between them and feasted on Lily’s cunt like a wolf at a fresh kill. I wanted to make her scream, make her experience the shameful pleasure of Sapphic lust. I was rewarded for my efforts with wanton moaning as the Mother Superior sucked on her neck like a vampire.
The room was filled with Lily’s panting and groaning, alongside the sluurrp of my long stokes as I ran my tongue up and down Lily’s vulva, marveling at how engorged her pussy mound had become. I stopped for a moment to share this nasty insight with her.
“God Lily your cunt lips are so swollen.”
“No I can’t be …” she groaned.
The Mother Superior let a loud pop ring out as she pulled her sucking lips off Lily’s neck.
“Her face is absolutely drenched with your juices Lily, you’re loving this aren’t you?”
“N-n-n-n-aaahhh!” the helpless girl cried.
“I’ve never seen a woman with such a flood of excitement weeping from their nasty cunt. God are you a filthy lesbian Lily? There’s only one way to be sure.”
The Mother Superior shifted position, throwing off her robe and forcing Lily down onto her back, mounting her face.
“Caroline here loves this, let’s see how you enjoy it.”
Alas my view didn’t allow me to see Lily’s eyes when she broke, but I heard the abbess’s approving moans. I saw Mother Superior’s ass shaking on Lily’s face as Lily became a debased cunt eating lesbian like me. I giggled into her cunt and started to finger myself.
“Goooood,” Mother Superior cooed, “Isn’t this nice? Three wives of Jesus Christ enjoying each other. This is where you belong Lily, I’m the head wife, you should serve me before the Lord, just as Caroline does, shove your tongue in there don’t be shy, urrrghh, good behavior will be rewarded, now find my clit … do you know what a clit is you dumb cunt … fuck didn’t Margaret show you …”
Mother Superior started grinding into Lily’s face, using her as a toy, heedless of the young girl’s need for air.
“I’ll do it myself, ahhh keep licking while I get off on your face you self-righteous bitch, Jesus you have such an adorable look in your eyes, such a soft face for a real woman to use …”
I lifted Lily’s legs, exposing her asshole, and explored her there with my tongue. I heard a muffled scream of shock from above, which quickly turned to screams of ecstasy. They both came, rocking the bed, and the Mother Superior rolled off the sweaty and wet form of the once innocent Sister Lillibridge.
I slowed my licking, looking to my Mommy for direction.
“Take your turn, Caroline,” she told me, a wicked grin on her face.
I climbed up Lily’s body, and saw that, though winded, her wrath towards me still burned. I rejoiced in her loathing, grabbing her hair and shoving her face into my soaked pussy.
“Eat me, eat me you nasty dyke,” I insisted.
She did as she was told, the abbess watching us intently.
“Good,” The abbess said, “Kiss and make up.”
She leaned in, getting a close-up view of my sex being serviced by pure Sister Lillibridge, and whispered, “Don’t you ever speak against another member of this convent, you hear me? This is play, not punishment, things could be truly awful for you if you betray our trust again.”
The Mother Superior went to her cabinet, and I heard her pulling out the false penis.
“Ummm,” I moaned to Lily, as she worked her tongue up my love tunnel, “You’re in for a treat.”
I felt the abbess behind me, and then a sharp SLAP as she swatted my ass, involuntarily I cried out, making her laugh.
“Get out of my way,” she told me, “I want to look at her face when I do it.”
With great reluctance I released my hold on Lily’s head, though I noticed she was slow to pull her tongue from my cunt, and took up the spot on the bed against the wall where Mother Superior had been leaning when I came in. I saw the wine on her nightstand and grabbed it, taking a long swig as I watched Lily’s eyes widen, seeing the phallic thing between Mother Superior’s legs approach her exposed sex.
I blinked twice, confused. Before my eyes I saw the stone seem to turn flesh, and connect seamlessly with her body. I looked at the wine bottle, wondering what was in it. Lily was still shaking her head in disbelief as the abbess started to rub the head of the thing across her sensitive vulva.
“Wh-wh-what is this?” Lily stammered.
“Oh, this is a penis, Sister Lily. I almost forgot you’ve never seen a man’s genitals before, have you?” the Mother Superior replied.
“But how?”
Lily was starting to sit up, but the abbess placed a hand on her chest, easily pushing her back.
“It’s a divine gift to this abbey, to sate us. Don’t you know that our Gods look out for us?”
“But how?”
Lily was flabbergasted, and I too was staring, astonished.
“Touch it,” Mother Superior ordered Lily, who reached a shaking hand down, fingers running over the head of Mother Superior’s very real cock.
Lily ran her hand down it, a look of confusion, but also curiosity, playing over her face. She squeezed the large head of the thing, feeling its spongy exterior.
“I’m going to take your virginity Lily, are you ready?”
The abbess smiled wickedly, so clearly thrilled at the prospect of the profane, impossible act she was about to perform. Lily looked to me as if for help, but I was captivated, eager to see it happen.
“Don’t worry Lily,” The Mother Superior said, “I’ll be so gentle …”
Lily’s cry of, “Waaiiit!” was ignored as Mother Superior sank the huge, fleshy cock between Lily’s pussy lips, spreading her mound open, Lily’s eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth gaped in a silent scream.
“Impossible …” I whispered to myself as I watched the Mother Superior, clearly now with a firm erection pressed into Lily, began to move her hips with painstaking slowness.
There was an unstoppable force to the lovemaking she shared with Lily then, like the rushing of a great river over a cliff, pressing, insistent, spilling over the edge and taking Lily’s maidenhood.
The mother superior leaned in and kissed Lily, who dumbly responded in kind. I saw their tongues caress each other’s lips. I observed closely how the Mother Superior made use of Lily’s delicate form, her hands never stopping as she explored the young woman’s body, scouting out Lily’s erogenous zones.
Lily broke away from Mother Superior’s kiss, throwing her head back.
“What are you dooiing tah-ta-to meee?” she squealed.
Mother Superior laughed.
“Fucking you obviously, do you like it?”
“I’m, I’m, ahhh …” Lily shuddered, her pert breast quivering beautifully as she came on the abbess’s unnatural member.
For her part, the abbess looked as though she would soon erupt as well, she looked at me, suddenly urgent in her need.
“Get over here, whore.”
I crawled next to them on the bed, awaiting her instructions.
“Put your head on her stomach,” the Mother Superior panted, which I did, licking my lips, suspecting what was coming.
The Johns would occasionally ask it of me, and while it disturbed me, it was preferable to risking pregnancy. Even so, I didn’t understand how it was possible that I was about to ingest a load of cum from Mother Superior.
“Don’t spill a drop!” the abbess shouted, pulling her throbbing tool from Lily’s raw cunt and pushing it towards my face.
I parted my lips, accepting the cock into my mouth, not questioning that I had to drink every drop. The head was warm, the glands like that of an uncircumcised man. I tasted Lily on it, but also a copious dripping pre-ejaculate, rich and salty, but not unpleasant.
I twirled my tongue around it, but the abbess was more interested in feeding me her seed. She aggressively grabbed the back of my head and forced the cock into my throat, so that the pulsing member began to shoot straight into my stomach. I had to swallow or gag, and I was successful in working my throat on the head of the abbess’s adopted penis, milking each drop from the shift.
When the abbess had finished, she withdrew from my lips with a wet plop, stepping backward.
“Sister West!” she yelled.
To both mine and Lily’s shock the door opened, and Sister West stepped in.
“Take Lily and clean her up, she’s yours now. Sister Lily, you are going to be trained in some new duties. Don’t let me hear that Sister West is … unsatisfied. Do you understand?” the abbess ordered.
Lily appeared baffled by the sudden and seismic shift in the regular order of the world, all authority perverted and her allies transformed into tormentors, all while she struggled with the hideously delightful sensations forced upon her. She stumbled after Sister West once she had put her underclothes, glancing at me repeatedly, as though I might be the only safe refuge left to her.
If that is the case then she is truly damned, for I would care not if she drowned.
Mother Superior lay on her bed afterward, the strange dick still hard.
“Help me,” she said, sounding tired, “Pull it off me.”
I reached to her, curious. My hand wrapped around the shaft. Its nature fascinated me and I crawled between the abbess’s legs, face up to the cock.
“No there’s no need,” the abbess said.
I ignored her. A hunger was growing in my belly, the first load had ignited something.
“Caroline stop,” Mother Superior begged.
I opened my mouth, extending my tongue. I licked the smooth, soft skin from its base, where it appeared to emerge from the top of her vulva, like a massive clit, up to the top, and Mother Superior shuddered. I sucked on the underside of the shaft, running my lips back down. I kissed her womanhood and dipped my tongue into her female sex when I reached the base, hearing her moan in pleasure above me.
“Please …” she implored me, to no avail.
I engulfed the head of her cock in my mouth, realizing I could wrap both hands around the base (I believe now the thing was growing this whole time, for it had seemed more normally proportioned earlier) and I began to pump it into my mouth, a singular goal in mind. The thing bled precum into lips and I sucked it up greedily, like a ghoul upon a fresh corpse.
The Mother Superior’s hands pushed at my shoulders, trying to stop me, but she was weak, and my desire was raging. I was unstoppable, pumping, twisting my hands up and down the glorious cock, marveling that I now saw bulging veins running along its sides, the hole at the tip large enough for me to tickle with my tongue, encouraging the briny flow, like a brackish river coming into the sea, warm water descending into the depths of the abyss that I was becoming, a ravenous black pit that could devour every bit of Mother Superior’s energy and soul.
Then, joyfully, the cum was filling my mouth, pumping up the length of the cock and pouring over my tongue, hot and thick. I milked it, my hands well practiced at the motion, encouraging the flow. The Mother Superior was screaming in pleasure and terror.
“Don’t spill a drop! Swallow it!”
But she’d need not have provided such instruction. That I would let this manna from heaven go to waste was beyond comprehension, what drops smeared my lips were licked up as I cooed my enjoyment of the feast I’d been provided.
I pulled it from my mouth reluctantly, and for only one reason; I was overcome by the need to mount it. I looked up at the Mother Superior, her face pale and sweating, and she read my intention.
“Don’t you dare!” she fussed, but I ignored her, climbing up her body.
Desperately she reached down, grabbing her cock and pulling.
“Nooo!” I cried, as she pulled it from her body.
I expected blood, for the flesh to rip, but as it pulled away it became again a simple stone shaft, and my mind seemed to clear. I dropped to my back beside her, suddenly exhausted. The abbess threw the thing across the room and lay next to me. We both panted, exhausted.
“What was that?” I asked her as I caught my breath.
“As I said … hmmm, a gift from the Goddess, it isn’t wise to use it too much,” she shuddered, wrapping her arms about herself.
I wondered how far things would have gone had the Mother Superior not acted as she had. I suspect the thing drew power from her body, its seed being her own life’s energy. I slid next to her and she embraced me, our mouths meeting.
“Thank you,” I said.
She smiled, knowing what I meant.
“You needn’t have worried, you and Margaret belong to me, and you aren’t going anywhere.”
This response was somewhat disconcerting. We lay together for a time in silence, until I voiced the question,
“What are you?”
Mother Superior didn’t respond, and I sat up, looking at her; she was fast asleep, utterly drained by the blasphemous acts she’d performed. The keys were there, on her nightstand. Taking a piece of paper from her desk, I traced the key which I suspected to be for Dumonte’s cell and took notes on its dimensions, creating a schematic of it.
Tomorrow I shall craft a copy and mount a rescue in the evening.
THE END OF CHAPTER THREE