Chapter 1
Silver moonlight cast an eerie glow on the stonewalled convent grounds. In the center courtyard stood a rugged cross ten feet tall. Made of heavy rough-hewn timbers, it cast a long shadow toward an arch and the iron-banded oak plank door leading to the novitiate, a block of cold and gloomy cells for young nuns in training.
A massive bolt clanked back and sturdy wrought-iron hinges squealed as the door swung open. Those sounds echoed sharply in the night. Six older nuns in long black mantled habits marched slowly into the yard, all chanting somber Latin in low voices. They surrounded a struggling girl who sobbed in fearful desperation.
Two grim-looking nuns led the solemn procession with flaming torches held high. The cross, that revered symbol of suffering, glowed red in the wavering glare.
Behind them walked Sister Bernice, an imposing woman taller and stronger than most men. She was the convent's stern Sister of Discipline and carried a black nine-tongued lash as a sign of her fearsome authority.
Behind her, two nuns with tightly drawn faces gripped the arms of the weeping girl in a gray hooded robe that marked her as a novice. That was Sister Angelique-young, blonde and beautiful beneath her drab nun's habit.
She struggled between the dour pair mantled in black and cried, "No, please! You can't crucify me for just reading a book!"
They both laughed maliciously and dragged her to the base of the cross.
Mother Superior watched the torch-lit spectacle from a barred window on the second floor. Recognizing the start of an ancient punishment ritual, she turned away and closed the wooden shutters to her private chamber.
She returned to her narrow bed and went on reading the forbidden book Sister Angelique had been caught with-a tender, almost innocent romantic novel the girl had taken on impulse from a supermarket book rack. The first hundred pages described nothing more daring than a gentle kiss and tender caress, but even that was considered shockingly sinful within the convent's bleak walls.
Cloistered nuns of that strict order were allowed to read only the Bible and religious books, nothing that even mentioned forbidden pleasures in the outside world. That's why Mother Superior found the book so exciting, and why she'd decided to reward Sister Bernice for bringing it to her.
The brawny nun in the courtyard grinned with a look of fiendish delight when she heard the shutters close. That meant Mother Superior had decided not to watch-that she would be allowed to use her favorite torments, cruel methods their Holy Order would never approve.
"Strip her naked!" she ordered the clutch of nuns who held the cowering novice in the shadow of the cross.
They all shrieked excitedly and flew at her like vicious black-winged birds of prey. Sharp fingers hooked like talons tore at her gray robe.
Angelique fell screaming, shocked by the ferocity of their attack. All but the towering Sister Bernice swooped down on her, ripping and tearing at her robe until she writhed naked, sobbing hysterically at their feet.
Long waves of golden hair fanned wide around a pretty young face blushed red with burning shame. Her creamy smooth skin had been scratched in a dozen places by nails sharpened into claws.
Having her clothes torn off so viciously shocked Angelique even more than it would most modest young women. She had lived in the convent since early childhood and been taught that nuns of their strict order should never be seen nude-not even by the eyes of God.
They had to change underwear without removing their habits, and change habits without taking off the long smock underneath. They had to wear a long, coarsely woven robe even when bathing. It kept them from touching forbidden places.
Sister Bernice glared down at the naked girl, delightedly licking her tautly curled lips. "You've been defrocked for breaking your sacred vow of total innocence," she said in a thunderous tone. "I caught you reading of sinful pleasures and experimenting with your own flesh!"
Angelique moaned and winced back tears of regret. Reading a love scene in the book had tempted her to touch her tits as the man did to a girl in the story.
Lying naked on the cold stone pavement of the courtyard, she felt profoundly sorry she'd taken that book off the rack when sent to the store to buy supplies. But Angelique had been unable to resist. The smiling, misty blue-eyed girl's face on the cover was like a mirror image of hers, and Angelique longed to know more about life outside the convent.
She did not listen to a radio, play a record or watch TV. Angelique had never read a newspaper or a magazine. Now she would have to suffer for her sinful curiosity about such forbidden things.
Sister Bernice grinned smugly and said, "Bind her to the cross! Tie her facing the cross. She is not to look down on the devoted sisters of our Holy Order."
Angelique shuddered and heaved a bleak moan. Two nuns with strong hands grabbed her arms and climbed the ladders which leaned against the cross, lifting her between them.
Another nun with long fingers grabbed around her slender waist to help lift. Her grasping hands strayed forward to feel the golden-haired dome of soft flesh between the girl's legs. Angelique cried in anguish.
None of the others could see what she was doing. The nun probed the soft pink-lipped slit of Angelique's cunt.
A sleek dampness the girl didn't understand began to flow. Then the nun found a tiny button of tender flesh sheltered between the puffed lips of Angelique's cunt. She whirled that around and made the girl squirm.
"Remember where that little nub is," the nun whispered. "It's the only thing that will bring you relief when Sister Bernice lays on the lash."
They wrenched her arms wide and bound them to the cross with tightly cinched rawhide thongs. Those chafed her soft white skin and drew traces of blood in several places. The rough beam that she faced pricked her tender tits with sharp splinters. Angelique suffered already and her whipping had not even begun.
Nuns standing below crossed her ankles and bound them tightly to the main beam of the cross. The biting cinch of rawhide sent shocks of pain up her shapely legs. She squirmed in torment and more sharp splinters pricked her skin.
"You have sinned and shamed the good sisters of this Holy Order," Bernice declared in a booming deep voice.
"Yes, I have sinned. God forgive me!"
"Louder!" the Sister of Discipline demanded.
Angelique almost screamed, "Dear God, please forgive me!"
"You cannot beg His mercy until you repent."
"I will repent," Angelique promised. "Hail Mary, Mother of God-"
Bernice laughed and lashed the girl across her back. Nine sinewy tongues of leather with knotted tips burned flesh once flawless as fine porcelain. Blazing welts appeared where the lash had struck and pain like a jagged lightning bolt jarred every nerve.
Angelique's scream echoed loud off the convent's bleak walls of stone. Shocked by the stabbing heat of pain, her lush body writhed in torment until the thongs creaked.
Sister Bernice drew back her beefy arm again. The lash came forward in a blur. Tanned leather stung tender flesh with a cracking sound like a pistol shot. It rang off the walls entwined with Angelique's second loud scream.
The pain numbed her senses, but Angelique's ripe young body twitched and squirmed. In her anguished writhing, her juicy clit bud found a nub of wood protruding two inches from the main beam of the cross. Unlike the rest of the rough timber, that small projection had been worn smooth as glass. Angelique pressed against it and felt an eerie tingle between her bound legs. She arched to press harder and the strange pleasure increased. The mysterious surging in her loins dulled pain, but only until the lash struck again.
Angelique was too weak to scream, but she felt the fiery spread of pain. She babbled, tossing her head and swirling her long golden hair. Her lush body arched and twisted, searching again for that lump of slick wood that brought wondrous relief.
She ground her drooling cunt slit against it and felt a rushing surge of uncanny delight. Angelique pumped her hips instinctively, spreading her soft thighs as wide as she could. Her rhythmic fuck motions and lewd grunting noises amused the pious-looking nuns circled below.
Bernice shouted, "Look at her now! She fouls the beloved symbol of our Savior with sinful lust! Each of you cut a switch!"
They all chuckled and smirked, rushing to a thicket of brush with long thorny limbs grown in the courtyard just for this purpose. Each woman cut a willowy branch and carefully stripped it of leaves. The dozens of small, needle-sharp thorns were left with nothing to pad their sting.
The nuns rushed back to the base of the cross with widening lewd grins of anticipation. Angelique could see them coming, then heard them circling behind her with their long switches all raised.
Her body trembled, strained by the effort of trying not to move. Her back was ablaze with deep-sinking pain. She ached for relief and still felt that strange, restless stirring in her loins.
She longed to twist and grind herself on the wooden nub again, but she didn't dare move. That would enrage the stern Sister of Discipline and surely prolong her punishment. Angelique bit her lips and winced to hold back her tears.
"Give her five lashes for lascivious sin," Bernice said, "and five more for each time her body moves that way again."
Angelique shuddered, fearful that she could not stand the pain. The girl knew nothing about sex or the inner workings of her own body, but she'd come almost to a climax while thrusting and twisting her clit on the glossy nub.
To come so near without the satisfaction of orgasm left her pussy sheath writhing. Simmering honey drooled from its soft lips, scenting the air with the tang of sweet virgin cunt.
That pungent smell incensed the nuns standing below. They'd all enjoyed lesbian sex at one time or another, but never with a girl as sweet and soft as Angelique. They all ached with yearning for her.
"Whip her!" Sister Bernice snarled as her arm arched back. The nine slender thongs and five thorny branches all struck at once.
Angelique shrilled an ear-splitting scream but somehow kept her body rigid. They all struck again, but not in perfect unison this time. Stinging blows fell one after another and her tortured wail became an unbroken cry. Still she remained rigid, but the punishing blows kept raining down until pain became unbearable.
Her long sharp wail deepened to a desperate moan. Angelique's flaring hips thrust forward. She groped and found the stimulating lump of slick wood. Then she blurred into motion like a jackhammer to feel the thrilling surge of relief.
The nuns stopped whipping her and watched her desperate gyrations with intense delight. Their mouths watered and their clits swelled. Innocent little Angelique had been whipped into a frenzy. She was fucking herself to an orgasm inspired by pain.
"Cut her down!" Bernice said sternly.
Angelique cried, "No, not yet!"
She didn't understand the exquisite tension in her loins or the powerful contractions of sleek muscle that grew stronger as she twisted and squirmed, but the girl sensed that something even more wonderful was about to happen. She had to know what it was.
But Sister Bernice would not allow the deliciously tempting young blonde to climax on the cross. The burly disciplinarian's own clit was throbbing.
The nun who'd first teased Angelique's clit severed the thong that bound her ankles to the cross. Two others climbed ladders and cut the rawhide binding her wrists. Angelique screamed and fell with a swirl of trailing golden hair.
The paving stones were cold, slick and damp with dew. It soothed the pain of her blazing welts on her back. She writhed joyously to spread the chill. At the same time, she dropped her hands and fingered her clit, whirling it madly.
"Look at the lewd little bitch," Bernice said, her deep voice tense with excitement, her cold gray eyes bright with desire. "Pull her hands away and pin her wrists."
Two nuns with hands like steel vises grabbed Angelique's arms and spread them wide, pinning them beneath their knees.
"No," the girl cried. "Don't make me stop!"
Sister Bernice raised her habit above her waist and dropped on the anxious young blonde. Her hot breath made a rasping sound as she positioned herself and pumped her hips.
Bernice's long rigid clit quickly found Angelique's tender nub. It was sheltered within folds of soft flesh damp with sultry warmth, but the larger organ bored in.
Angelique gave a startled cry. First it was a thrill of disgust, then a deep moan of thankful delight. When their clits touched, it was like two sparking wires.
The young novice groaned, almost crushed by the driving weight of Sister Bernice. She had no idea why the big nun had dropped on her, or why two others crouched down to pin her legs wide apart. But she welcomed the pleasure.
Sister Bernice fucked just like a man, arching as high as she could without breaking contact, then driving down to sink her hard clit as deep as she could.
Thudding blows from hot flesh fell on that tender button of nerve-ends between
Angelique's legs, then Bernice's big clit skidded off and sank into the girl's buttery cunt.
Angelique felt pressure on something inside. The bullish nun's clit strained the stubborn web of flesh that marked her as a virgin. Bernice grunted and increased the power of her rapid thrusts.
She had deflowered more than one innocent young girl with a bulbous clit that swelled hard as a cock. But Angelique's virgin seal was tough as leather and set so deep she could hardly reach it.
Angelique knew about the fleshy web of innocence she'd been taught to treasure. She was afraid it might break and brand her as unworthy to say her final vows. But her desire for pleasures yet unknown proved stronger than fear.
Muscles in her groin squeezed to increase the heated delight of friction between them. Bernice gave a satisfied grunt and kept thrusting brutally hard, determined to rupture the girl's cherry and make her bleed.
Angelique was not thinking about that or her final vows now, only the intense contractions that sent warmth radiating out to her fingers and toes. She was hardly aware that four leering nuns held her pinned to the ground.
She arched and twisted, bucking her hips to meet Sister Bernice's demanding thrusts. As pain had become almost unbearable when she was being whipped on the cross, the wild spasms of pleasure were almost more than she could stand now.
Bernice was fucking with all of her female might, muttering foul curses because God hadn't given her a cock to do the job right.
Angelique gasped anxious cries. The mysterious contractions had grown stronger than before. She teetered on the brink of orgasm. All her muscles strained, then she climaxed with an explosive roar.
Sister Bernice came with her. The woman's big clit pulsed and surged. It made her wish she had balls, but lewd rapture very soon overcame her regrets. She fucked as a man, then she collapsed on top of the quivering novice.
Even with heavy shutters tightly closed, Mother Superior had sensed a change in the girl's anguished cries when Angelique first discovered the forbidden thrill of clit stimulation.
The Reverend Mother knew all the sounds that came with that delightful sensation. In the years she'd run the convent, over a hundred young novices had been whipped and flogged on that old rugged cross.
Their tortured writhing and desperate need for relief had polished the handy nub of wood at cunt level until it sheened like crystal. The Reverend Mother had herself been bound to the cross and brutally whipped by a former Sister of Discipline when she was a young novice.
Twenty years had passed, but the woman still remembered what a thrill it was to experience orgasm in a body already hot with burning pain. When she heard Angelique's explosive scream, the Reverend Mother rasped sighs of envy.
Most nights, Sister Bernice was with her. She had made the brutish big nun her Sister of Discipline for that reason. Mother Superior loved to confess some minor sin and be secretly flogged in her private chamber.
The whipping always made Bernice's huge clit hard enough to fuck almost like a man. Mother Superior liked nothing better than a brutal clit-fucking when her back was ablaze with burning welts.
Her mind was twisted now in tortured jealousy, knowing that her demanding disciplinarian and secret lesbian lover was happily fucking the much younger and far more beautiful Sister Angelique.
Mother Superior breathed a jealous moan and pulled a burning candle from its holder beside her bed. It was two inches thick and sixteen inches long. Entranced by the size of it, she gripped the long shaft in both hands and wormed the rounded butt end into the taut slit of her pussy.
"This is much better than you, Bernice," she said spitefully.
Angelique was shrilling lewd cries of delight in the courtyard below. Bernice was strong enough to make a girl's climax last several minutes. Mother Superior groaned and drove the candle in as deep as she could without burning her hands on the lighted end.
Her sleek cunt was tense and writhing in a jealous rage. She climaxed almost at once. Undulating waves of motion that would have delighted a man were wasted on the unfeeling shaft of a tallow candle instead.
Mother Superior's cunt was hot enough to soften the candle. When she pumped it in and out of her pussy fast enough to extinguish the flame, outer layers of tallow began to melt and feel like cum in her anxious depths.
Hot drippings splashed into her silvering thatch of cunt hair to heighten the illusion of real sex. Mother Superior pumped the smoking candle faster with both hands. The heat of friction was so intense, the candle withered and went limp.
Mother Superior's slithering cunt climaxed all over the rubbery waxy shaft, desperately wishing the thing was alive. Though still a virgin in the strictest sense of the word, the nun who ruled the convent had fucked candles hundreds of times before.
She knew exactly how to bring herself to orgasm, and she did so several times a night. It was her way of escaping the dreary monotony of a nun's dull life.
The Reverend Mother assumed all her lusty cravings were a secret. But young nuns assigned to clean her private quarters delighted in telling others that Mother Superior's candles always wore out at the wrong end first.
Fucking candles and carrots was a common practice within the convent's gray walls. In a world without men, what else could a healthy young woman do?
But lifeless things never thrilled Mother Superior like the hard driving strength of Sister Bernice. Her body ached to feel the mannish woman's powerful thrusts and the heated pulse of something like a real man's cock.
She discarded the candle and stalked to the window. She opened the shutters quietly despite the heat of her jealous rage. Bernice hadn't finished with Angelique. The burly bitch was fucking her again, making the babbling girl beg for more.
Even from a distance, Mother Superior could see what a tempting treasure Angelique was. Her long, silky golden hair shimmered in the moonlight.
The Reverend Mother's hair was short and soft gray like smoke. Angelique's young body was ripe and lusciously curved. Hers was more slender, stately and serene.
Some men would have preferred the regal beauty of the older woman, especially those who noticed the smoldering heat in her dark eyes. But the Reverend Mother knew little about men. She could only have Sister Bernice-and to do that she would have to get rid of Sister Angelique.
A few strokes of her pen would be enough to banish any novice from the convent and the church forever. But Mother Superior resisted the impulse to do that. It would free the luscious beauty to lead a normal life and experience earthly pleasures beyond her wild dreams.
She would not reward her rival with release from her strict vows. Better she be made to suffer for so attracting the lewd devotion of Sister Bernice.
Angelique was climaxing again, wailing like a banshee. The nuns pinning her ankles had let go. Angelique kicked her legs up and scissored them around the waist of Sister Bernice to gain leverage and feel more thrilling pleasure.
"I'm going to fuck you every night after this," Bernice said in a breathy growl.
Angelique couldn't answer, she was cumming hard for the third or fourth time. Her pussy was a wringing tight sleeve of sultry dampness and her mind was a blur.
Mother Superior glared jealously. Her power within the church was limited by the convent's gray walls. Outside, it was still a man's world. There was no such thing as equal rights or affirmative action in the eyes of the church. The lowliest parish priest had more real authority.
Then she remembered Father Brannigan, perhaps the lowliest priest of them all. He was a young rebel assigned, or perhaps banished, to a waterfront mission struggling to survive in an abandoned building infested with vicious harbor rats.
He had made an official request through proper channels for a nun to help manage a congregation of juvenile gang members, drunken sailors and derelicts with no place better to go. She would normally have recommended denial of that request in the strongest possible terms. Father Brannigan's sleazy waterfront mission wasn't a proper place for an innocent nun.
But now Mother Superior's taut lips curled into a grin of wicked delight. All the things wrong with Brannigan's mission made it just the right place to send Sister Angelique. It was the nearest thing to hell on this earth that the Reverend Mother could think of.