THE ABBEY OF DISILLUSION 4

Feature Writer: YANKEE DAN

Feature Title: THE ABBEY OF DISILLUSION 4

Story Codes: Erotic Horror

Synopsis: Novice nun dominated by her abbess and taken by a monster

Publication: 16.02.2023

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 4

So through endless twilights I dreamed and waited, though I knew not what I waited for. Then in the shadowy solitude my longing for light grew so frantic that I could rest no more, and I lifted entreating hands to the single black ruined tower that reached above the forest into the unknown outer sky. And at last I resolved to scale that tower, fall though I might; since it were better to glimpse the sky and perish, than to live without ever beholding day. ― H. P. Lovecraft, The Outsider

May 29, 1933

Strange are the rhythms of the body when the mind is unsettled. I should have slept like the dead well into the day, but I awoke before dawn, watching the sun rise with a dread like that of a vampire trapped outside their resting place.

I had dreamt that I was dancing in the ominous woods under the ethereal light of three luminous moons. Amber horns sprouted from lush, curly hair which flowed down my back like a cape, ending with the last strands caressing my buttocks. My hoofs beat a jubilant ballad before the gathered centaur as I twirled in rapturous worship of her dark majesty.

Claps and cheers from the adoring crowd spurred my powerful form, for I was no longer a diminutive woman but a powerful satyr, thick furry legs accentuated with a cute bushy tail. The fur tapered off while it traveled up my stomach as the sands of the shore give way to grassland. My enormous breast swayed in their nakedness as sweat dripped down my stomach and I skipped among the rocks atop a towering hill, all the while watching their leader approach.

He was a large, burly chested man, with an even larger lower body, like that of a Clydesdale. As he approached my playing ceased and others took it up, for it must never stop. I spread my arms and bowed, eyeing his growing erection.

As the sun filled my room I rose from my bed, drinking from a pitcher of water I keep before kneeling at the cross I have hanging on my southern wall.

“Father, I have failed you so much. I pray that you strengthen my resolve today as I face what we know awaits. Be with me as I go through this. Catch me if I should stumble, help me to climb back from the abyss and bring this man out of Egypt. When I succeed, I will praise you! You are worthy of all praise and honor …”

I trailed off, and thought for a moment, before asking, “Why did you make me this way, if it is so wrong? Is this the touch of the enemy whom I let take root in my life after my parents died? I swear that I want to repent but my heart craves her so strongly …”

My voice choked, and I could not continue, I let the silence of God hang in the air before whispering, “Amen.”

A gentle tapping came at the door, I guessed correctly that it was Margaret, and she embraced me when she came in.

“Kiss me,” I told her, with which she obliged, our bodies falling into bed.

She seemed to immediately understand my need for comfort and provided it with the intermingling of our bodies, arms and legs interlocking, clothes being stripped until we were pressed together, her bosom rubbing erotically against mine, the hard points of her nipples giving me goosebumps as they grazed my skin.

It is strange that I once thought it odd how some men fixated on my breast, now I wonder why some men didn’t. It must be as Freud said, breast are the first object of pleasure all people know, and that is rooted deep in our subconscious, for I suckled on Margaret’s breast that morning as if they provided all the warmth and safety in the world.

There is certainly nothing about the nipple that is extraordinary; round, with a soft outline and hard center its simplicity belies the euphoria of taking it between my lips, and though the delicate flesh surrounding it is silk-like no pillow ever aroused my womanhood to weeping thus.

Sister Margaret allowed me to nurse at her teat for a few minutes before grabbing my hair and forcing a deep and passionate kiss against my sighing lips, one of her hands moving under the covers and her fingers working my sex. We locked eyes as I groaned against her mouth.

“Does that feel good?” she asked me.

God what a foolish question. The splendor of a woman’s body, Lord I can’t put into words the divine perfection you have wrought. Perhaps you’ve done too great a work, dear God, for surely you realized that not only men would covet the incredible contours of a woman’s flesh which flow like water over a bed of stones long worn by time into absolute smoothness.

That sin should follow from the desire for the artistry on display is a foregone conclusion, that men should kill one another over it, and that the bearer of it indeed should be become its victim too, ah, so inevitable, as unstoppable as the orgasm Margaret gave me like the sweetest gift on Christmas morning.

All breath left my body and I feared fainting before enjoying the last echoing note that reverberated throughout my body, ringing from my sex through my tightening stomach and down to the tips of my small toe.

Margaret kissed my face gently as I came down, her tongue licking the tears from my cheeks, whether I had cried before she came in or began when she touched me I cannot say.

“What happened last night?” she asked me.

I explained the events, without going into graphic details, and Margaret sat back, a strange look on her face.

“So the Mother Superior will overlook our relations if you … perform favors for her?” she asked me.

I thought for a moment before responding.

“I think it is a bit more than that, she doesn’t care if we fornicate, I think such acts must be common in the abbey.”

“Has she turned from Christ?” Margaret wondered aloud, “How many of the Sisters are part of this?”

On both counts I had no answer, Margaret then suggested something that shocked me.

“Perhaps we should try to be accepted by her inner circle?”

I shook my head.

“Dumonte said he was investigating this cult because people are disappearing, and seeing as we have no lot of men loitering on the grounds they must be …” I trailed off.

“No, I can’t believe it,” Margaret said, shaking her head, “The Mother Superior may be lustful but, killing people?”

“All will come to light,” I squeezed her hand, “She doesn’t suspect that I’ve found Dumonte, she just knows I’m a …” I stopped myself at the last, looking into Margaret’s eye.

“Mine,” she whispered, “You’re mine.”

Margaret left to continue her daily routine and I went about the day’s work, the most important of which was crafting a duplicate of the cell key.

This process was not difficult, but I took my time, performing the work in the tool shed. The duplicate, made of oak, seemed solid. It would not hold up to extended use, but I only needed it to function once. Shamefully, I did spend a moment staring at it, contemplating discarding the fabricated key and letting Dumonte rot. The knowledge that I could be removing the one person who might condone my relationship with Sister Margaret tested my resolve. Then I remembered James 1:15 — After desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.

“I will do what’s right,” I muttered, to the Lord perhaps, or just to myself.

I saw Sister West leading Sister Lillibridge across the grounds at one point and I gave them wide berth, not wanting to interact with Lily or even contemplate what her servitude to Sister West consisted of.

I spent most of the day in the fields however, working as I always do, and it occurred to me that it is only the smallest fraction of my time which I spend the most of it contemplating. For six hours after crafting the key, less than usual, I planted, yet to that work I barely paid heed, performing it automatically, with the practiced hand of years. My mind was free to obsess over the Mother Superior, Sister Margaret, and Mr. Dumonte, just as I do in this diary.

It is also no wonder if the other Sisters barely know me, for I spend much of each day in the fields around the abbey, while the women religious spend their time cloistered in prayer, or doing good works in Arkham. The small gardens were tended previously by Sister Phillips, whose family is of some importance in Arkham. I spoke with her a good deal when I first arrived, but as I expanded my work further from the abbey itself I left her behind, though I often saw her outside.

On this day she approached me directly, with a broad smile, whilst I tilled the soil. She made small talk and offered me her aid, which I accepted. We worked the earth together for a few hours and I felt as though some barrier to her opening up to me had been removed, though she made no comments of any import, though before she left we shared this exchange.

“Whew!” she exclaimed, flexing her back, “You have such stamina! I’m exhausted already. You do this every day?”

“I’m accustomed to it,” I told her, “Before I left home we often worked from sun up to sun down.”

“Well,” she replied, “I can see why the Mother Superior enjoys having you around.”

I stared at her questioningly, but she was already leaving. Was this innuendo? Had Mother Superior bragged to her about my … sexual services, or was it my guilty conscious reading into her words?

When I returned to my room I was surprised to see someone had placed several things on my bed.

There was a black dress similar to my novitiate gown, but tailored to be revealing and intricate. It had lace patterns and was cut along the sides of the legs, ending above the knee. There were panties on top which confused me greatly when I inspected them until I realized that they were intentionally missing any covering for the vagina or anus. There was a perfume bottle and various other cosmetic items, including a dark red lipstick. The note was from the Mother Superior, it read: “I will enjoy your company for dinner tonight after you’ve showered. Please dress appropriately and come to my office at our usual time.”

“This woman in insatiable,” I muttered to myself as I began to prepare.

After my shower I sat in my room, carefully applying the makeup I had been provided. I was certain displeasing the Mother Superior would be a terrible mistake. To my shock the door suddenly opened, and Sister West entered. She closed the door after stepping inside, reminding me of the Bishop’s assumption, and she smiled at me.

“Oh my, you’re a sight! She’ll be so pleased,” Sister West exclaimed.

I was struck by the redness of her hair and realized I had never seen her without her wimple and veil. She was wearing her habit, but her head was uncovered. I noticed then the marks on her neck, great purple welts and bruises. For a moment I was struck with concern, as I forgot the abnormal mode of life she must engage in and I rose to check on her.

“Are you okay Sister West?” I asked, inspecting her neck to offer aid.

In that moment I noticed among the bruises what were surely teeth marks and went silent.

She laughed though, amused.

“Oh you should see under this dress, or better yet you should see under Sister Lillibridge’s, I gave her a good working over but she has more to come tonight I assure you that. I expect she’ll be too ‘sick’ for her duties over the next week. Hmm, thanks for your concern though you sweet one,” she stepped forward and inspected my make up, nodding approvingly, “Speaking of which if you want to, well, make use of her yourself when I’m done training her just let me know. I reckon that she owes you an … apology.”

I realized that this was a chance to gather valuable information, but before I could even ask Sister West started to instruct me. She ‘warned’ me that I was only to speak to her and Mother Superior openly about “the situation.” Even Sister Lily, she told me, was not to talk openly about it.

“Are you having relations with Sister Margaret?” she asked me.

I remained silent, unwilling to volunteer anything she didn’t know. She chuckled as she recognized this and said,

“Good, you’re a smart one. What you do in your room is your business, but if you parade it in front of the abbey you’ll get what Lily is getting or worse.”

I was overwhelmed by all that she began to describe, there is pecking order within this private sect, with the Mother Superior obviously on top. Beneath her were her women like Sister West, “Matriarchs” she called them. These women trained and disciplined the newly inducted “Wives.” Below the wives, which I took to refer to wives of the Christ, were the concubines, these were the lowest and sometimes shamed Sisters. Sister Lily had now been forcefully inducted into that role through her attempt at selling out myself and Margaret. Sister West was frank in her description; these concubines were often sexual playthings of the others.

Not all the Sisters are involved, she said, although she did not say who those Sisters were. Obviously Lily, Margaret, and myself had only begun to interact with this hidden sect over the last mouth, but she implied that the greater number were part of them.

“In a few years,” she told me, “We will all be one family, united in a common faith.”

“And I’m a ‘wife’ now?” I asked her, to which she laughed.

“No silly you’re a concubine, obviously didn’t you hear me? What best describes you?”

I must have made quite the face at this because her mood shifted suddenly to be comforting.

“Now child listen, I expect you will be a wife before long and besides you’re a willing whore are you not? Mother Superior was so pleased when you offered yourself up to her. Embrace what you are because we embrace you. Wear your cloak over these clothes when you go to her, remove the cloak once you’re alone.”

I finished my preparations and made my way to the Mother Superiors office. Somehow I felt more nervous than ever, understanding fully the scope of the great vulture in whose wings I now shaded. She was sitting at her desk in her habit reading from the tome of magical arts when I came in. There was a small table set up for us, with wine and candles, additionally a low sitting twin bed had been placed against the wall, and its blankets reflected the lantern light in a manner which indicated that they were silk.

“Sit,” She ordered me, which I did after removing the cloak, taking a spot at the table.

She then proceeded to ignore me for at least ten minutes, at which time she spoke, without looking at me.

“Have a drink.”

“I’m not thirsty,” I told her.

She looked up from her reading and turned, slowly looking me up and down.

“You look wonderful, you’ve prepared yourself for me perfectly, so I’ll let that slide. Drink.”

She then went back to her book.

I gulped, my throat suddenly very dry, and poured myself a glass of wine. I thought for a moment and then poured some into her glass, carrying it to her desk and offering it to her.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it without looking at me.

I returned to my seat and sipped the wine for a few minutes longer before the abbess asked me.

“Do you know what this tome is?”

“No, Mother Superior,” I told her.

“It’s the Liber Ivonis, the Book of Eibon. It’s supposedly written by a wizard from the land of Hyperborea, what do you make of that?”

“I don’t know, Mother Superior.”

“Well, I shall have to let you read it sometime, you can give me your thoughts, you are well read, for a farm girl are you not?”

She turned now, looking at me closely.

“In the classics Ma’am, but not in …”

“Arcane studies,” she supplied, to which I nodded.

“Well do you suppose they work? The spells?” she asked me.

“I don’t know, I would have said no but … you have that magic stone.”

She nodded.

“The Torok Grubre, or little toro as I call him when I’m in the mood.”

She stood and began to remove her habit, what was underneath would have shocked me two weeks ago but now I took it in without blinking as walked she over to me, sitting at the opposite chair.

The Mother superior wore a white corset, her breast bulging out of the top, cleavage prominent. She had white stockings coming up to her curved thighs, her arms had ribbons tied around them, which must have been done for her by an attendant. Each ribbon was spaced about two inches apart, and tight enough that they sank into her skin just a bit, the bows faced out to her left and right.

At this precise moment, as though orchestrated, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!” Mother Superior yelled, and the door opened, I noted the faces of the two Sisters who entered, each carrying a tray of covered food which they placed in front of us.

I reasoned that both must be part of the sect, or they would not have been allowed to see this.

“Thank you, dears,” the abbess said, dismissing them.

She returned her attention to me.

“I hope you like veal,” she said, and removed the silver cover from her plate, taking up her utensils and starting to eat.

In truth I had never had it before, but upon my plate was a large piece of veal, as well as some corn and potatoes. I cut into the meat, seeing that it was leaking juices out copiously onto the plate as I did, and brought the pink flesh to my lips, tasting it.

“Umm,” I hummed, “It’s good, it’s so tender,” I said.

The abbess nodded approvingly.

“Just like Lily last night,” Mother Superior shocked me with her sudden turn to the obscene, her ability to so quickly and openly discuss such debased acts, “As I fucked her last night I thought, this girl has never worked a day in her life, like a calf, and so veal to celebrate taking her cherry is appropriate I think.”

I was truly at a loss with regards to how to respond to such a comment.

“Not like you at all, you’d probably be tough if we cut you up and served you, hmmm?” she laughed, “But seriously I also recalled that you have never giving away your … well you know.”

I knew that she only played coy and avoided saying it out loud to force me to summon up the image myself.

“Is tonight that night?” she pondered, “Should we investigate the sin of the sodomites?”

I knew what the correct answer to this question was, and realized that Sister West was indeed a great teacher, for her conversation with me had instilled in me an understanding of just what my place was. I was about to respond — “Whatever pleases you, Mother Superior,” — but I am a willing and enthusiastic concubine, and that is why Mother Superior is so taken with me. To seem disinterested or disdainful would place me into a lot with those concubines who needed to be forced, as Lily had been.

“I want …” I hesitated as though ashamed, and on that account, I needed not act, “… you to show me what it feels like to have my ass taken, Mother.”

“Ahhh, you’re too kind little slut. I am curious about something. What kind of relationship is there, between you and Sister Margaret?”

I considered lying, for I suspected she knew very little on this, but I was unsure and couldn’t risk her wrath. After all sister West had seemed to assure me that I could continue with Margaret as I had.

“After you asked me to speak with her about her urges,” I explained, “She … came on to me. She pinned me to the bed and made me pleasure her.”

“Hmm,” the Mother Superior seemed to think for a moment, “So Sister Margaret raped you did she?”

I opened my mouth to protest.

“No, of course not. A woman cannot rape another woman, obviously.”

The abbess had her chin resting on her fist, and tilted her head, seemingly amused.

“Is that so? Didn’t we rape poor Lily last night?”

“No!” I shook my head, “That was … that was …”

I tried to find a defense for our actions, but recalling them, I struggled to do so. Had I helped rape another woman? Had I been raped?

Mother Superior’s laughter was loud and genuine, my discomfort almost a joke to her, but as she spoke her tone became harsher.

“Oh calm yourself. Sister Lillibridge received mercy last night didn’t she? After all, she came into my office bearing false witness.”

I swallowed, seeing anger on her face.

“Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor,” I said.

“Then you shall do to him as he thought to have done to his brother; so you shall put away the evil from among you,” she recited, and went on, “But back to Sister Margaret. I know she didn’t do anything that filth Lily didn’t ask for, but what about you, did she hurt you?”

I was shocked then, for all the Mother Superior’s actions finally this moment of concern truly shocked me. The abbess stood and walked over to me, taking my head in her hands, tenderly.

“Did Sister Margaret hurt you?”

I shook my head.

“No … no I wanted it, I wanted her to, I just …”

“Couldn’t say it,” she finished, to which I nodded.

At that moment the tension seemed to lessen in the room, and I realized I’d been squeezing my fork painfully. She’s just tried Margaret. I realized. My God I almost caused Margaret to be convicted of rape. What would Mother Superior have done if I’d said something else? I wasn’t sure, but I am sure that she is the most dangerous person I have ever met.

She leaned down and kissed me softly on my lips, her tongue licking up a few drops of grease from the corner of my mouth, hers tasted of veal as well, of the flesh of a young calf.

“No one can hurt you,” she whispered to me, “You’re mine, and no one else is allowed to hurt you.”

The Mother Superior sat back down, and I could visibly see her body relaxing as she drained her wineglass. She sat it on the table, and I immediately refilled it.

“Come here,” she commanded me.

I stood and stepped around the small table, for once looking down onto the Mother Superior. She wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me close, placing her face in my bosom and inhaling.

“Ah that perfume, it suits you.”

“What is it?” I asked, having been unable to place the scent.

“Magnolia,” she told me, “Certain beasts from the outside absolutely love it.”

I was clueless what she meant by this but choose not to inquire. Her right hand began to stroke my ass, while she reached under me with her left. I then discovered the mechanical advantages of the short dress, cut along the sides combined with the incomplete set of underwear, for there was nothing to stop her from immediately beginning to probe at my sex, and I jumped in surprise.

“Relax little dove,” she told me, very cautiously exploring my sex, her expert hands working my ass and tracing the outlines of my labia.

Despite reaching into my most private area so suddenly, she made no rush to penetrate me as I had half expected, but took her time to rub and work my vulva. My breathing slowly quickened as we locked eyes.

“I’m going to fuck your little virgin asshole, do you understand?” she asked me.

“Yes Mother, oh please be gentle, are you going to fuck me with little toro?”

“Of course,” she said, “And I’ll employ its little magic trick as well. I’d not strip your ass of its virginity with a cold thing of stone any more than I’d deprive Lily of the pleasure of a hot cock for her first time.”

The abbess slid from her chair onto the floor and my feet, pushing her face underneath my gown. I gasped as I felt her hot lips on my cunt, her tongue electrifying me as though she were Edison and I a fresh light bulb. I had not expected her to service me, and my legs shook with nervous appreciation for her efforts.

Her licking was as forceful and insistent as she was, she did not coax or caress an orgasm from me, she demanded it. Her tongue was fire, unnaturally hot but just below a heat that would burn me, her fingers were in me then, and the way she used them surprised me.

The Mother Superior did not imitate a cock with her fingers, as I’d always assumed was the proper way, rather she rubbed and wiggled within me, searching for something, and in finding it, messaged it.

“Ah, ah, ah Mother!” I whimpered, “What are you, what is …”

The pleasure of this new sensation was exquisite. How remarkable is the female sex, that minor alterations on its playing can result in such an array of feelings. The abbess played with my cunt as though it were a piano, each note unique, each digit of her hand eliciting a different sound and all of them merging into a harmony that soared into the heights of bliss. The cold silence of the room felt inappropriate considering the raging delights trampling through my flesh as I came on the abbess’s tongue, my legs shaking like the walls of Jericho, about to fall.

Fortunately, she sensed that I could not hold myself up any longer and rose, sweeping me up in her arms as I collapsed, her lips, tasting of my excitement, touching mine as she led me to the bed. She turned me around and pushed me over, dropping to her knees behind me. Then she pushed my short dress up, her tongue moving over my sex again, from the clit up to my asshole. I gasped as a woman licked me there for the first time, the hot slippery tongue circling my rosebud.

Her fingers returned to me, first my cunt, and then my ass. I grunted as she opened me, just the tip of a single digit at first, wet from spit and vaginal juices, probed the entrance. I tried not to tense my body but a nervousness was contending with the excitement, the expectation of the pain I was sure would follow turning me into a scared bunny, twitching at the slightest provocation.

“You’re tight, this will hurt more than you know,” the abbess said, which certainly did not ease my agitation.

“Gentle!” I whispered, pleading.

The abbess responded with a light bite upon my innermost thigh, eliciting a yelp and putting me in my place. Pain was to be expected, she was telling me, as she inserted a second finger into my ass. This opening would not be easy, a new world isn’t discovered without sacrifice, the plowing of a field is rough work, I knew, but the farmer reaps the rewards in the end.

Her two fingers pushed slowly inward, perhaps to the second joint, and I huffed and groaned with the foreign feeling of insertion.

“Ummm,” she moaned approvingly, “I was mistaken, you aren’t tough at all, you’re a succulent dish, just prime for ravishment.”

I squeaked as she slapped my ass with her free hand, making my anus contract and squeeze her fingers.

“Hmm, strong muscles down here, I’ll enjoy that.”

She rose, withdrawing from me, leaving me bent over her bed, knees on a fortunately soft carpet that ran the length of it. I felt something soft land on my head and grabbed it instinctively, it was some wet cloth. I pulled it around, looking at what it was.

She had thrown her panties on my head, and now that I held them close some perverse desire overcame me and I put them to my nose, inhaling. I shuddered as I smelled her alluring fragrance, and without thinking extended my tongue, wanting to taste the juices that had soaked the soft fabric. From behind me I heard her chuckle.

“Have a thing for cotton I see.”

I looked back at her, embarrassed and wanting to hide, and I saw the Torok Grubre merging with her sex and becoming flesh. The abbess took a bottle of some kind of oil, perhaps olive, and poured some onto the shaft, lewdly stroking it as she approached me. My eyes widened, for I was reminded of its size, and as she knelt behind me I trembled. The weight of the thing settled between my ass cheeks, the head poking out over the small of my back while the base, protruding from her moist cunt, was pressed against my own sex.

“Mabye it’s too big?” I suggested, fear creeping into the back of my mind as I realized the full reality of what I was in for.

Mother Superior shook her head.

“Oh, it will fit,” she said, “I am incredibly patient; I’ll work this little asshole all night if that’s what it takes but you’ll have toro buried deep inside you by midnight.”

The abbess backed from me and lowered her face to my ass. I sighed as I felt her tongue against the top of my crack, and cooed while she worked slowly downward, I held my breath in anticipation of its touch on my ring and wasn’t disappointed.

“Oh Mother …” I sighed, arching my back and laying my face on the bed.

She sent shameful and delicious tremors through my body as her lips pressed into my asshole, her tongue sliding its way into me.

“Mother … mother …” I repeated, as her hands ran up and down my thighs, stopping to squeeze my ass and toy with my labia from time to time.

Occasionally she would pull the strap of my crotchless panties back and let go, whipping my ass with the tight fabric. When her face withdrew from between my globes, which had by now begun to shine with a thin sheet of sweat, I felt for the first time what it is to miss the feeling of something pressing into my dark forbidden cave,

“Mother!” I cooed again, this time with a note of complaint.

“Relax yourself, it’s time,” she said, kissing the back of my neck as she leaned forward.

I felt the head of her cock pushing between my cheeks, searching for its target. Fear returned as the bulbous head of the thing touched my quivering lotus. Pressure slowly built as the abbess demanded entry into my most private part.

Though I held my body as still as I was able, attempting through sheer will to relax the many muscles I’d strengthened through years of labor, my mind went like a freight train.

This is so dirty, it’s wrong.

I have to placate her!

It’s sodomy, she is sodomizing me.

I’ve licked her asshole, she just licked my asshole, are there no limits? What’s next?

Another woman … another woman is going to fuck me in my ass.

For a moment I believed that it would not go in. Despite the saliva dripping down over my sex, and the slick greasiness of the oil Mother Superior had applied I began to think the width of the thing was simply too great, that my asshole could not open to it. I almost breathed a sigh of relief … and yet disappointment.

But then I felt a painful, stretching sensation began.

“AH! Mother!” I shouted.

Her hands squeezed my thighs firmly, keeping me from thrashing about as the head of ‘little toro’ began to part my sea. The thing felt massive, and I imagined that the gates of a strong castle were giving way before a battering ram. Of course, I am selling the Torok Gurbre short, for it is no mere tool.

The thing is hot and alive, its stiffness encased within soft flesh, allowing enough give to accommodate my shape while firm enough to force its way in. Little Toro is much like a real cock, but a perfect one, every inch of it shaped to please the users. The veins, the crown, the curves of its head, are all imitations of nature, but geometrically designed with the intent to produce the greatest possible effect during the sex act.

The dam broke and I screamed as the hard cock overcame the tension of my ring, the head plunging into me. I reached back, trying instinctively to push the Mother Superior away. She would have none of this and smacked my arm aside. The strong woman reached forward, grabbing my hair in one hand. We locked eyes, both our teeth gritted. She took my left hand in hers, pushing in down onto the bed.

My ass spasmed on the head of her penis, I winced as I felt my muscles squeezing the thick rod. The result of this phenomenon was opposite for each of us, the Mother Superior letting out a long breath, savoring the pulsations as they messaged the spongey head of the cock she’d pushed into my ass. For myself it was far less pleasant, a painful ache and desire to expel this foreign invader were being sent through my nervous system with great urgency, my body confused by the unnaturalness of this act.

“M-mother Superior …” I sputtered, “Please, I …”

“Shut up,” she cut me off flatly.

“Bu-but, ahhhh!”

I began to protest, and she immediately cut me off by simply leaning forward, shoving me against the bed and driving a few additional centimeters of cock into my ass. She curled my hair around her fingers, pulling my head back.

“You will … take it …” she told me, and I saw she was starting to breathe heavily.

I suspected the corset was inhibiting her breathing, and I wondered if she wore it specifically for that purpose. Although she said this, and her hands held me down, she also paused in her efforts, remaining still while I shook on her shaft. I’m unsure how much time passed, but eventually the spasms ceased, and I realized that the foreign sensation of the anal intrusion had echoes of the feeling of more conventional penetration.

Cautiously I pressed my hips back, to which the abbess groaned approvingly. These efforts were rewarded with a recognition of the agony which had just abated, and I froze again. I repeated this process several times, the abbess patiently waiting, allowing me to work my ass down her long cock, the head slowly diving towards my core.

“How much is … in me?” I asked her breathlessly.

“About half,” she told me.

“Oh God …” I whispered.

“Oh, I’ll get the rest in,” the abbess assured me, and pulled her hips back, until I felt the crown of it tugging at my asshole.

‘Ughhh … this is so … wrong feeling …” I whined.

“Feels right to me,” the Mother Superior said, and pushed her hips forward, relishing the sodomizing of a fresh young novice.

As the abbess began another slow withdraw I looked back at her.

“How many of the Sisters have you, ugghhhh!” I groaned as she pushed in again, succeeded, I believe in slipping a bit deeper, “… have you … you … done this to …”

“You know I’ve lost count?” she replied as she began another outward stroke.

I didn’t believe her. Her face was telling me that she was relishing every second. I believe she’ll cherish the memory of the night she took the anal virginity of another of her Sisters, no matter how many it has been.

“Sister West though, ahh she was a sweet one, and Corinna, what a sweet little ass she has.”

As she spoke she wiggled her hips, adjusting the angle so that she could work herself deeper into me.

“Corinna?” I huffed, my breathing heavy.

“Sister Philips,” she clarified.

The pain had subsided, thank God, into a mere shadow, reminding me that the act was unnatural, but at such a low ebb that it almost enhanced the experience, like a bitter twinge within Chardonnay. In its place a bizarre fullness on her in-strokes, a slick, aching backstroke. Together they churned my insides, God what depraved desecration of my temple.

How strange that it should began to feel so enticing, a sick echo of the more natural act, a delectably sinful clinching of my ass which occasionally tried to grip the abbess’s cock in a vice, bringing grateful moans from the lips of my mistress as she pushed her cock through the tight ring and into the inner soft, wet space of my rectum.

“Hmm, Mother … aahhhhh … yes …” I purred without meaning to, vocalizing the enjoyment I was now experiencing.

The Mother Superior took this as a sign to push harder, and in moments I felt her hips touching my ass cheeks, and her arm wrapped around my neck. I turned and her lips found mine, kissing me as she ground her hips into my ass. I pushed back against her now enjoying the way the base of little toro stretched my asshole.

“You like it,” the abbess said.

I answered, “Yesss,” but it had not been a question.

“I’m going to fill your ass with cum you God damn slut.”

I expected her to pound me like a man would as he neared orgasm, but she didn’t. She worked her hips slowly, savoring my defilement. Her cock moved in me like an undercurrent, rhythmically flowing, persistent, unstoppable.

“Finger yourself,” the Mother Superior instructed.

I complied, reaching between my legs and circling the hood of my clit. There was plenty of lubrication, I discovered, for my cunt was soaking, a wet spot was fast forming under where I was being pressed into the bed.

The stimulation from my ass was indeed, exquisite, but I don’t think it would have brought me to orgasm. Once I touched myself however, I felt it building immediately. The noises I made then, would have caused anyone overhearing them to conclude that the witches of Salem were conducting an orgy for Satan in the abbess’s office.

“Aahoohfuuucckkk, take my ass. Take me, Take. Fuck me please!”

I did not moan my pleasure, I screamed it. At some point the Mother Superior shoved my face into the bed to quiet me. She was so forceful that I gasped for air, choking, but again the torture only heightened my arousal. Mother Superior was losing control as well, her pacing becoming erratic, her thrust slapping our flesh together.

She too gasped for air, the corset only allowing short, shallow breaths. When I came my ass clinched hard down on her cock, almost painfully for both of us, but it sent her over the edge. A burning, though not unpleasant, flow erupted from her cock and poured what strange seed the Torok Grubre bore into my gut.

“Fuck, you’re a tight little slut, uh Goddess that’s good,” the Mother Superior groaned.

We both panted in the aftermath of my anal deflowering, myself sprawled on the bed, the abbess letting herself rest over my back, her magical cock embedded deep within me. It did not grow soft. I do not believe that the Torok Grubre ever softens, the abbess could have fucked me again immediately. However, she was already somewhat drained by the first act, and so extracted herself from me. I heard the stone cock drop to the floor, and the abbess climbed onto the bed.

“And now you’ll service me as a woman,” she told me.

Exhausted, I lay between her legs and looked up at her.

“Take your time,” she told me, and I placed little kisses around her sex, teasing her with my tongue while I caught my breath.

“Yes, let me savor this. Sweet little Caroline, her ass full of cum, dutifully ready to eat my cunt.”

My ass did indeed feel full, a thin line of cum running out across my pussy, puddling on the bed. I pressed my face into her sex, which was fragrant with the smell of her arousal. I licked her slowly, kissing up and down her opening, using my fingers to part the lips and pressing my tongue firmly into her sex, then twirling it in a steady dance across her lips. My debasement was surely complete, I thought, for what further humiliation could I be subjected to?

As the abbess approached orgasm she wrapped her legs around my head, holding me in place until I gave her another orgasm.

“That’s right slut, uhhhh, you know your place don’t you … uggh, yes you love being my cunt licking ass slave don’t you?”

No response from me was needed as she filled my mouth with a rush of womanly juices, a beverage I have fast become addicted to. When she was finished, I was dismissed. Before I left, she informed me I could take a few days to rest until she needed me again. I assumed this meant she intended to use Dumonte over the next few days, though she is unaware that I know this.

This ordeal was exhausting, and I made my way through the quiet abbey to the shower. I cleaned myself and donned my simple novitiate gown, preparing myself to descend the steps for what would hopefully be the final time.

As I passed Sister West door I heard noises from the inside, and I stopped to eavesdrop.

“Please I need to rest,” it was Lily’s voice.

“Hmmm, you’ve not earned it yet girl,” it was Sister West.

“My tongue is so tired, please you’ve cum so many times already.”

There was a loud SLAP and I heard Lily yelp, followed my Sister West’s reprimand.

“This ass is so pink, you’d think you would have learned your lesson,” another slap, accompanied by Lily’s cry of pain, “I’m going to beat this pink little ass until you learn that your place in this world is servicing my cunt, sore tongue or not.”

My heart should have gone out to Lily, but perversely I enjoyed the sounds of her crying from the spanking that followed, and I delayed far too long to listen to Sister West began to moan, knowing that she had innocent Lily’s face buried in her pussy.

At length I pulled myself away, turning to the gate and working its lock. When I opened the gate, the music flooded out into the hallway, and I stared shocked at the forest, so alluring in its dark beauty. I blinked, why had I opened the door to the forest? Shaking my head, I closed it and more consciously input the combination, gaining access to the stairwell.

I descended with a sense of foreboding. The quiet of the abbey in the dead of night, my reaction to the sounds of Lily’s punishment, and my accidental opening of the gate to the forest filled me with unease. I was in a strange place, physically, in time, and in my life. My surroundings and my own heart were not to be trusted.

And so I put my trust in the Lord.

“You are the strength of my life,” I prayed as I descended the steps, “You are my rock, my fortress and my protector; therefore, whom shall I be afraid?”

I reached the level of the dungeon, but even before I turned the corner, I saw the difference. There was far more light than before, and I soon saw why.

Two torches now burned among the cells, Dumonte’s and another, further down. Curious I proceeded onward, staring at the second torch.

“You’re a quiet one,” Dumonte’s voice, startling me, making me jump.

I had been so fixed on the second torch that I had walked into his sight without looking at his cell.

“Mr. Dumonte, thank God you’re all right!” I whispered.

The man was wearing a pair of brown pants now, and he sat on the edge of his bed.

“Have you got the key?” he asked me.

I pulled the duplicate from my pocket, showing it to him.

“Will that work?” he asked me.

“Of course it will work,” I told him, slightly offended, “Do you have a fellow prisoner?” I inquired.

“Yes,” he said, “His name is Francis De Marigny, a drifter. He says the Sisters promised him a place to stay.”

“Well, they delivered,” I said, joking inappropriately.

“Who’s over there?” A man’s voice shouted, De Marigny apparently, his voice belied his name, he sounded as though he were from the south.

The loudness of his voice, breaking the silence myself and Dumonte were trying to maintain via our whispers, unsettled me. I wondered what strange beings might be roaming these dungeons, attracted by the agitated man.

I rushed over to the cell and presented myself to him.

“Hush now,” I scolded him quietly, “I’m here to help, just wait a moment.”

The man was haggard looking, half starved. I wondered if it was from his captivity or if the streets had been that hard on him. He wore a pair of dirty overalls, with old brown boots, half torn up.

“What you gonna do?” the man said, not really heeding my wishes.

“I’m going to get you both out of here,” I said, attempting to soothe him.

I pulled the oaken key from my bag and inserted it into the lock on his cell. I held my breath as I turned it carefully.

“You one of them damn nun bitches,” the man said as the lock clicked, opening.

I scowled at him disapprovingly and pulled out the key, heading to Dumonte’s cell.

“Hey maybe you shouldn’t let him out,” the man said.

I turned to him, questioning, “Why?”

“They been pampering him,” De Marigny explained, “Feedin’ him an’ talking to him. Couple of them came in an even had sex with him if I’m not mistaken. Seems to me like he ain’t much of a prisoner as much as a guest.”

I shook my head.

“No he comes with us.”

I inserted the key and turned it. My handiwork proved true and the door opened. Dumonte had been holding his breath, and exhaled loudly.

“Thank God. Let us make our escape.”

I prepared my flashlight in case we had to give up our stealthily retreat and make a run up the stairs. As we walked back to the steps I whispered to Dumonte,

“Who else have you had sex with?”

He raised his eyebrow at me.

“A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

He was smiling broadly, excited to have his freedom again.

“I need to know who — ”

I was cut off as I started up the steps, stopping as I heard it:

Tap, tap, tap …

“Fuck,” I whispered, putting my hand over Mr. Dumonte’s chest to stop him.

He took the motion as the warning it was meant as and froze.

“Hey let’s go!” De Marigny yelled at us.

“Oh fuck,” I sobbed.

I looked to Dumonte as the tapping quickened, descending the steps towards us.

“Back or down?” I asked him.

“You don’t want to meet what’s on the other side of that tunnel,” he informed me.

“Down,” I said and turned, pushing past De Marigny who looked at us in confusion.

“Head back through the tunnel!” Dumonte screamed at him, “Go! Run!”

The confused man turned and sprinted towards the light of the torches while myself and Dumonte descend the steps. We went perhaps two stories when Dumonte grabbed my shoulder.

I stopped and listened, the tapping had ceased approaching. For a moment there was nothing, and then the screaming began. It was distant enough for me to know that De Marigny had made a good run of it, gaining some distance before whatever creature we’d come upon caught him.

“Let’s go,” I whispered, trembling as fear threatened to cloud my mind.

“Something’s with us,” Dumonte said.

“What?” I asked, switching on my light.

I wish now that I had not. Mind you I don’t believe the light instigated the attack, but I would rather have never seen the thing that filled the stairwell with its mass of mismatched anatomy. My mouth gaped, stunned more than terrified for a moment.

A hundred eyes blinked at the sudden light, each pupil narrowing as it focused on me. A dozen mouths, huge and full of jagged teeth, opened and hissed at me. They didn’t seem to correspond to any logical place a creature would have a mouth, nor did they quite seem attached to the central mass of the thing. I am unsure still if they were on stalks of some kind, or if they were in fact not connected to the thing at all, but some kind of satellite jaws.

Another thing which struck me later as remarkable was our silence in the face of the thing. Dumonte grabbed my arm, pulling me up the steps and I began to follow. We ran as quickly as we could, the only sound our feet beating on the steps. One of the creature’s mouths shot out, biting my left leg. It was a firm but measured bite, restraining me and causing me to fall. I grunted as I hit the ground, but still did not scream. Dumonte turned from above me, looking back, I reached for him. To my horror Dumonte turned away, running up the steps.

I gritted my teeth and squeezed the flashlight. I felt the mass of the thing approaching and I rolled over, beating at the jaws on my leg with the light. Mid swing my arm was engulfed by a second mouth, a hot wet prison swallowing the light and leaving me thrashing in darkness.

With one leg restrained, and my arm being pulled upward, I kicked out with my free foot, hoping to perhaps hit one of the thing’s eyes. I felt the great bulk shift with shocking speed, yanking me about like a doll. Something hit me and then I did cry out. Something tore my gown, the ripping of the cloth loud in the blackness. The thing, or perhaps things, were all around me, bumping me in the darkness. They began to hiss and chatter, the sound a frightening cacophony of inhuman excitement.

I reached out with my free arm, searching for something, anything, that could allow me to pull against the creature, but it had me hanging now in the air, and I flailed about helplessly. Then I heard the footsteps and saw a light approaching. Looking about I saw Dumonte rounding the corner, a torch in his hand.

Dumonte swang the torch, not merely intending to scare the thing, but attacking it straightaway. The creature lashed out, a large and misshapen appendage striking the man. Strong built though he was, it hurled him back up the steps against the wall.

“John!” I screamed, trying to punch at the thing as best I could, to distract it from the greater threat of his torch.

Dumonte rose and made to charge again, but the beast choose retreat, pulling me down into the darkness. I saw the torchlight bob as Dumonte ran after me, but he was no match for the thing’s speed. I felt the ground level as the thing turned into a passage, and several more times it took turns. My heart sank as I realized I was being taken into a black labyrinth, so deep within the earth that no help could possibly be found.

At length the creature dropped me and I quickly stood, believing this a chance at escape, but it must have simply needed to reposition its enormous form within the new environment, for I only took two steps before mouths were chomping at my clothes, pulling them apart.

Once the creature had stripped me to my underwear a mouth tried to bite at my leg again, but I was able to jump away, feeling the rush of air give away the thing’s position. Alas, the enemy was too many. I escaped the one and fell into the clutches of another, a huge mouth engulfing my right hand. It sucked my arm in deeper, up to the elbow, and I felt a slimy tongue coil around my forearm.

I’m going to be eaten. I decided. What could such a creature be about? What could a huge thing like that want with a small animal except to consume it?

The fight had left me badly winded, and the creature had little trouble now biting down on my legs. I was hoisted off the ground again, huge lips closing over my left foot and working their way up my leg. Its spit was preternaturally slimy and I felt my foot sliding into a wet tunnel, the things throat. It was swallowing my leg, its tongue swirling over the flesh of my thigh.

The creature’s mouths descended upon me then, they seemed to move slower now though, sensing that they had evaded any chance of interruption and would savor their meal. I reached over with my free hand and grabbed at a tooth inside the mouth on my right arm, trying to pull it out to hurt the creature. Something long and sinewy whipped across my back, sending a shocking and sharp pain through me. The lashing thing took hold of my wrist, while another gripped my right ankle. I was held afloat and spread eagle in the pitch-black catacombs.

I began to prepare myself for death.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want …” I whispered, panting.

Another mouth clasped itself onto my breast, which were exposed to the darkness. It sucked on my left tit in its entirety, a strange sensation which was, surprisingly, not altogether unpleasant. The tongue of the thing slid out, forcing its way out even as the teeth grazed my soft breast. It ran across my collarbone and wrapped its horrid length around my neck twice. The squirming tongue was so long however, that it didn’t end there, but continued up my chin, touching my lips.

“Wha — ” I gasped in genuine confusion, what sort of thing did this creature have in mind?

It pushed forward, trying to force itself into my mouth, but I was able to clench my teeth and keep it out. My defiance prompted the thing to constrict around my neck, cutting off my air.

It occurred to me that my arm and leg felt as though they were encased in massive vaginas, the wet tunnels surprisingly soft considering the monstrous nature of the devil, the curvature of their insides almost feminine in the way they took my limbs and pulsed with life around my tightly constricted flesh.

My legs were lifted above my head, the creature flipping me upside down. A new mouth pressed itself against my groan, as if in a kiss. The lips of it then parted, engulfing my entire crotch, its line of teeth pressing against the top of my ass cheeks in the back and the bottom of my stomach in the front.

I felt its tongue, inhuman and massive, like the tentacle of some deep sea creature, slithering around my pussy. I knew without doubt then, that the creature was attempting to arouse me. In its freakish way it was licking and kissing my body, holding me tight without actually inflicting injury on me.

“Why?” I whimpered, struggling to breathe as the wet cord on my neck strangled me.

As I gasped for breath the tongue on my neck took its chance to push between my lips. The tongue was soft and thick, probing my mouth and seeming to caress my own tongue. I closed my lips over it, sucking and tonguing it back. I reasoned that, perhaps, if I pleased the creature, it might let me be.

I shuddered with the bizarre sensations afflicting my fragile body, caught in the grip of this eldritch being. I felt myself lowered to the ground, a relief for my limbs, and the thing let part of my weight rest against the ground, though my lower body was still held up, legs being licked and sucked up their entire length, the slimy saliva running down over my stomach and onto my breast, whose hardening nipples were being flicked by the lashing tongue of a massive mouth.

The thing was delicate, I now understood, for no scratch was made upon my skin, so vulnerable in the many jaws that held me. Each used only the force required to hold me, and employed their lips and tongues in such a manner as to shield me from harm, the teeth only being felt when little force would push them lightly against my skin, make me tremble in fear.

The restriction of my breathing was of concern, for I wondered if I should ever awake were I to pass out in this monsters grip.

“Ah… ahh… air…” I croaked.

The thing’s tongue pulled itself from my lips and I felt my airway open. I drew in deep mouthfuls of air, chest heaving against the teeth that pulled at my slime covered breast.

I let myself relax, for fighting was useless, and I sensed that death was not imminent. The mouths, that were not full of my flesh, began to chatter excitedly again. I wondered if it was some sort of language, if so they were certainly expressing their desire to defile my frail body.

The tongue of thing that was on my sex began to push across my sex and through my legs, parting my ass cheeks. Its tongue formed a line, as though I sat upon a rope, and began to piston back and forth, sliding over my labia and my asshole, the pleasures of which I had only just been awakened to by the Mother Superior. This was an arousing feeling, triggering both holes to inform my nerve endings how delightful they found the stimulation, but this was mere foreplay, for it was all too brief a time before the thing pushed at my vaginal opening.

“Gaaah! Haaaooowww?” I cried in both pleasure and confusion as the tongue, which was several feet long at least, pushed inside my cunt.

Its wiggling mass was soft and yet strong. It filled every centimeter of me, and I do not just mean deeply, but each crevice of my vaginal tunnel was filled due to the way the tongue flowed through me like water, expanding as needed. I remembered how I had imagined that long cocks in the past entered my womb, for this thing certainly did, in fact it licked me inside my uterus. I felt the tongue in the center of my being, dragging itself across my insides.

This sensation was both arousing and incredibly unnerving. For certain this thing’s gentlest ministrations were still shocking and dangerous, with the potential to injure me fatally at any moment. However, the intensity of the feelings could not me denied.

“Ohh God!” I cried out as the thing began to writhe its tongue inside my moistening cunt.

It moved in ways no human’s tongue would ever have been able to and pulsed with the beating of the thing’s heart. Its withdraws were painfully exquisite and its entries, as it started to fuck me with its tongue, were unbearable in the smooth parting of my labia on the wide organ.

The thing sucked on my crotch and ass at the same time, and it returned its other tongue to my mouth, which gladly gave the deepest kiss I will ever know, the tongue not just playing with mine but entering my throat, firmly yet so slippery that there was no discomfort of friction as it pushed through my esophagus, although it must have made a visible bulge as it raped my throat.

I was caught between these two mouths, fucking me from both ends, while long tongues were multiplying, covering me in their lapping eagerness to taste my sex. I squeezed my fist, trying to calm myself. I felt for a time as though I might go mad, that if I came on this monster’s tongue I’d snap, if not in body than in mind. I could not give voice to the abnormal pleasures that coursed through my body, for the thing was thoroughly enjoying the plundering of my oral orifice and gave me only enough leeway to allow me to catch the occasionally gasping breath.

The voices chattered in my ear, and perhaps I was mad in that moment, for I am certain I understood them.

“Cum for us,” they said, “Feed us your juices.”

They assured me and complimented me on my taste, they asked for my sweat and vaginal juice, they licked and sucked every bit that they could, playing my body like a violin and pleasuring me into secreting more bodily fluids for them as though they were bees gathering pollen. I was a treat for them, a morsel, a piece of human candy that they sucked on gently, having the self-control to not bite down.

They must, I believed, have practiced on the other Sisters, and I thought about Sister West and Mother Superior, had they given themselves to this creature? Was it privy to the taste of their skin? The image of Mother Superior, a long monstrous tongue impaling her gorgeous cunt, flashed through my mind. Treacherously I imagined Margaret as well, oh how beautiful she would look cumming on a tongue that could violate her deepest reaches.

Imaging Margaret’s breast wrapped in twisting wet organs ignited an orgasm in me. I quivered, my hips shaking inside the things mouth. I gurgled out a cry of pleasure around the tongue fucking my throat. The thing sucked at me fiercely, drinking my pussy’s flavors with a chattering of appreciating voices.

Just when I thought I might pass out from the overwhelming experience the tongues penetrating my flesh were withdrawn. I took deep, heaving breaths as the creature rearranged me, pushing me to the floor chest first, my arms and legs were released but a whip-like appendage wrapped around my waist, hoisting my ass up, the one engulfing my crotch withdrawing.

My ass, covered in its thick spit, was exposed again to the cool air of the dungeon, and I shivered a bit. I was not truly cold however, for my core was a raging fire, my heart pounding so strongly I might have been in a 200-meter race.

I felt then, the strangest sensation play upon the folds of my vulva. It was a myriad of tiny points, caressing my crotch. Each tiny touch was accompanied by a sort of sting, or shock, but it was so light in intensity that it could not truly be called painful, but simply stimulating.

My inner thigh tingled with the ticklish play of a thousand little strokes. It spread up my private valley, tenderly swirling about my asshole, easing the remaining soreness from the abbess’s fucking. I remembered a creature I had seen on a trip to the Woods Hole Science Aquarium, the thing had been called a sea anemone, and was little more than a bundle of squirming tentacles. I imagined now that whatever organ was pressing against my sex looked in some way like that.

This was only the first stage however, for I felt something emerging from within the mass, and this object was thick and firm, pushing insistently against the opening of my cunt.

“Oh God, are you going to fuck me now?” I asked the darkness, stupidly.

I was reminded of how little toro had seemed far too large to insert itself into my ass, for at first this felt much the same. In the next seconds however, I felt, through the folds of my labia, the thing reshaping itself, making its end into a point. This point, combined with the gooey leavings of the mouths, allowed it to wedge itself into my vaginal opening.

I screamed then, and I screamed and screamed until there was no breath in my lungs to continue. I was stretched to what must have been the breaking point, and I am certain that had the creature not adjusted its member and simply forced it in bluntly it would have torn me open.

But thank God that the thing had some kind of desire to not see me broken, for its assault was measured brutality. It fucked me slowly, its cock, if that is what it was, drilling into me deeper and deeper. It felt as though a man were plunging his entire forearm into me, and I was driven into the ground, grunting breathlessly, by each thrust.

The pain of this experience was matched only by the pleasure, for this stretching, freakish though it was, ignited the most primal parts of my brain. The image of a massive cock pounding me into the ground, leaving me a blubbering fool, was a powerful one that, even with my new devotion to being a pussy licking lesbian, woke the deepest parts of my womanhood.

I felt a rippling sensation as the long organ buried itself deep within me, for the thing was not smooth along its length, but covered with bumps as though the inside were a skeletal structure like a human spine, over which its tight skin was stretched. This emphasized the extreme widening feeling shooting from my cunt, as each little valley allowed some reprieve before I was opened again.

The thousand tiny tentacles still caressed me, holding onto my ass and thighs. I wondered at the construction of the thing, if there were a large sheath which ended in the ‘sea anemone’ as I thought of it, with the cock pushing in and out of me without ever being exposed to the open air.

A thick fluid, possibly the thing’s precum, was starting to leak in copious amounts from my cunt with each stroke inward. I felt the stuff run across my stomach and onto my breast, pooling on the ground beneath me. The pool spread until my face was in it, and I didn’t have the presence of mind at that moment to avoid it getting on my lips as my face was pressed into the filthy substance. I cannot say what exactly it tasted like, for I have never had anything comparable, but it was a rich flavor and not altogether unpleasant, though very strange.

There was a steady increase after that in the pace of the thing’s gentle rocking, until I realized the force was slowly pushing me forward. Being pushed across the labyrinth’s floor was not enjoyable so I reached out for something to stop myself and discovered that I had been pushed right up to a wall. I rose to my hands, hips still rocking with the force of my monstrous lover, and was able to push back against the thing, which I believe pleased it greatly for the chattering began again, sounding excited.

I could not help but moan loudly as I received the things affections. The steady fucking, the bumps hitting the walls of my cunt and stimulating my clit with their impacts, began to push me to orgasm.

“Oh fuck! Your so huge,” I told the inhuman thing as it claimed my cunt, its precum running down my thighs.

“Ah, ah, ahhh, ohhhh fuck …”

I shut my eyes, though it made no difference in the pitch black tunnel, and grunted as I came, legs shaking. My strength was gone, and I collapsed, but the thing’s mouths returned to me and took my arms, lifting me. They pressed me against the wall, my legs lifting from the floor. My breast were squashed painfully against the wall and I placed my hands on it, pushing back, again to the creature’s pleasure. It fucked me against the wall for several more minutes before I felt a swelling between my legs.

“Yes. Fucking cum for me, do it you brute!” I yelled, ready to conclude this act and see if survival was on the table.

Cum it did, and the effects that it had on me were wholly unexpected.

“Oh …” I mumbled, “Oh my …” It was still going, drilling me slowly as it began to pump, “Oh my God …” The cum filled my pussy, dripping out of me, “Oh, oh, ohh. My God, Holy fuck!” I screamed blasphemies as I shook on the monster’s orgasmic seed.

The cum tingled inside me as though I could feel a million sperm wiggling over my nerves. I was filled with pleasure from wherever it touched, which was of course primarily my cunt, but some also ran out down my legs, and as it withdrew there was a splash upon my ass. I dropped to my knees, reaching down and scooping cum out of my gaping cunt to lick it from my fingers. I laughed hysterically in the darkness.

“Ha, ha, ha! It’s good! It’s so good! Ha, ha, ha!”

I rubbed the stuff around my breast and reached my hand out for the thing, hoping to suck some of the fluid directly from its cock, but I found nothing, and lay there in a haze of pleasure for several more minutes before I came to my senses.

I rose on shaky legs, and called out.

“John! Dumonte!”

My voice echoed in the tunnels, but no response came. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. There was nothing to do but get moving, so I choose a direction and, keeping one hand upon the wall, began to walk.

For a time I tried to track the twist and turns, building a map inside my mind of the complex, but I soon despaired of this effort, for the sheer size of the place became more and more apparent, and my disorientation from the assault had left me clueless as to what direction the stairs lay in. Regardless, I could at least keep walking, trying to find some equivalent to an exterior wall.

At length I came upon an interruption of the regular pattern of the wall. I examined the outlines of it and realized it must be a door, and when I found the handle, my heartbeat quickened. It was a door like that in the abbey which led to the stairwell. Holding my breath, I touched it where the first symbol ought to be. The symbol illuminated, not much, but in that darkness it was a beacon.

I saw to my frustration that it was not the same symbol in that position as on the other door. Cursing I realized that while some symbols were the same, this door had alternative combinations. Accepting this, I began to try combinations, failing again and again, until I realized the door had a possible combination I was familiar with. Inputting it I stepped through, into the forest.

I stood under that starry sky, seeing three bright moons drifting through the cosmos above, a night with more stars than I’d ever seen. The soft playing of a flute drifted through the air, beautiful and sad. The urge to seek the player crept into my gut, but I looked down at myself in the light; I was a disgusting mess of fluids and dirt, hardily and inch of my skin untouched. I had more pressing matters.

I saw a stream, perhaps a mile distant, and the urge to go bathe myself was strong, but I needed to get back to the abbey, and so I inspected the door to which I now had access. Like the previous door this had its own combination of familiar and unfamiliar symbols. I began to try them, one after another, and succeeded in opening the door, however when I peeked through I saw a truly inhospitable landscape, a desolate city of monolithic towers and black domes beside a still lake which reflected the stars, somehow black, filling a sky lit by the light of two sickly suns.

I closed the door on that scene and continued my attempts. The second success showed me a dark hallway, the grey stone of which was covered with ice. The air from it was so cold that, in my nakedness, I did not even consider stepping through, but closed the door again immediately.

On the third attempt the door opened and I beheld the hallway of the abbey. A profound joy overcame me, I would see Margaret again. Creeping into the abbey I bathed quickly and returned to my room exhausted. Alas, I am now unsure what became of Dumonte and the other prisoner, or what will be made of their absence. I imagine that I will be the prime suspect, but as I can do nothing about it, and my ass and pussy are both aching terribly, I’m going to sleep.

THE END OF CHAPTER FOUR