Chapter 2
Sister Angelique was clit-fucked repeatedly by the six nuns who'd so piously marched her to the cross to be punished for reading an innocent romantic novel.
By dawn, the softly curved young blonde was too weak to respond, so they dragged her up and tied her to the cross once again. This time her back was to the timbers so that she could not find relief when her pussy started throbbing for pleasure.
They left her hanging until well after noon. By then the sun blazed and her lush body sheened with sweat. Her burning welts began to fester and Angelique's pussy begged for relief.
By three in the afternoon, her long golden hair was drenched with running sweat. Dried blood covering her numerous small wounds had dissolved and dripped down. The salt of her own body fluids made them burn worse than before.
She writhed in silent torment, daring not to speak. Sister Bernice had warned that any sound she uttered would add an hour to the time she must spend on the cross. Angelique tried to think of Christ and the suffering he must have endured for the sake of all mankind, but that didn't help.
All feeling was lost from her fingers and toes. Then from her arms and legs. Her mind was a dizzy blur. The only sense she had left was in her groin. That seethed and pulsed with desire even when her heartbeat began to weaken.
Just before Angelique's stubborn spirit became lost in a sea of pain, some young nuns in black robes came with ladders and gently lowered her from the cross. Mother Superior herself led this group, not Sister Bernice.
She led the stumbling girl to her private quarters and quietly bolted the oak planked door. Hers were the only rooms in the whole convent that could be securely locked from the inside.
"Sister Bernice won't trouble you any longer," the Reverend Mother said with a smile that glowed like sunrise. "She's been banished to her cell until you've completely recovered."
Angelique had mixed feelings about that, despite all she'd been through. Sister Bernice had thrilled as well as pained her. Memories of her grinding climaxes were still stronger than lingering pain.
"We must get you cleaned up and start to heal your wounds," the Reverend Mother said with seemingly deep concern.
Mother Superior had decided to let Bernice languish in her cramped cell while she enjoyed all the sensuous pleasures a tempting young virgin had to offer. She would satisfy herself fully before sending Angelique to Father Brannigan's despicable storefront mission.
"First a nice warm bath," she said to Angelique with a smile and a consoling hug.
Angelique luxuriated stark naked in the steaming tub. The water contained scented bath oils to ease the pain of her wounds and the ache of her stiff joints. She lounged neck-deep in the soothing emollient for half an hour. But only when Mother Superior took off her own habit and prepared to join Angelique in the tub did she realize she was naked.
"But not even God is supposed to see us naked!" Angelique cried, her mind set on being a proper nun again.
The Reverend Mother's lithe body looked regal. She moved with queenly grace getting into the large sunken tub.
"Sweet, innocent Angelique," she said with a pleasant smile. "Haven't you ever thought that some of our Holy Order's strict rules are simply stupid?"
The girl was shocked that Mother Superior would even suggest such a thing.
Mother Superior said, "If God has the power to see through the stone walls and tile roofs of this convent, then he could certainly see through your bathing robe if he wanted to."
"He wouldn't!"
"I think He might. He's a man, after all, and you are a simply stunning young woman."
Angelique blushed. She'd never thought of herself as being beautiful. Vanity was a sin. The Holy Order did not even allow the nuns to have mirrors. She'd only seen her own face reflected in water, or in the polished bottom of a large kitchen kettle.
"Your figure is a delight to behold," the woman said as she edged closer. "Large breasts, so firm and still so soft. A slender waist and flaring hips, beautifully tapered legs. Your looks would drive men wild!"
Angelique's blush deepened. "Men don't think about nuns that way."
"Some do. And if they knew what you looked like without your habit-all this silky long golden hair."
Mother Superior stroked a hand through the long cascade hanging outside, over the edge of the tub. Then she worked her hands around to feel the girl's tits.
"Ungh! Please don't do that!"
Angelique recalled too well being whipped for barely touching herself. Now Mother Superior was fondling her with both hands and whirling her thumbs around her nipples.
"I know it's against the rules. But I think rules must be broken sometimes. We're only human, after all."
Angelique became completely confused. Mother Superior was encouraging her to break the strict rules of their Holy Order. Her mind resisted, but her body was weak from a terrible ordeal on the cross. Warmed by the soothing water and the soft stroking of the older woman's hands, she yearned for pleasure.
"But how can I be a worthy nun if--? "
"You'll be a fine nun," the Reverend Mother assured her. "In fact, you'll get to say your final vows years sooner than most. I'm going to tutor you myself, day and night."
"T-t-tutor me?"
Mother Superior was sliding her hands down, gently exploring the soft valley of flesh between Angelique's legs.
"Yes, dear. You're being prepared for a special assignment outside the convent."
"Outside? So soon? Oooh, I'm not ready!"
That strange but now familiar stirring in her loins had started again.
"You will be, my sweet. Mother Superior will teach you all that you need to know."
A probing finger found the button of Angelique's clit and swirled beneath the water in a tantalizing spiral.
"Yes, but-" The young blonde still had nagging doubts.
"No buts, you must obey higher authority without question."
"Yes, Mother."
"That's better. Now, let's dry off and go to bed. There is much about life that I must teach you."
For years before becoming so enthralled with Sister Bernice's rough treatment, Mother Superior had been a lesbian who enjoyed the aggressive man's role. She loved the sly art of seduction, but never more than now with the pliant and so beautiful Sister Angelique.
Her talented lips, deft tongue and wavering fingers would reach every nerve before this long night was through. Angelique's senses would all become enflamed, and she would be kept hot for a whole week. Then she would send the restless, innocent girl into the urban jungle surrounding Father Brannigan's waterfront mission with strict orders to remain forever pure. A more cruel torture was hard for the woman to imagine.
Angelique would pay for being so radiant and so tempting.
Mother Superior toweled the girl dry and then led her to the bed. Angelique stretched out with a thankful sigh. Mother Superior knelt beside her with hands clasped as though in prayer. Then she began to caress the girl's lush tits.
The trembling novice breathed shallow and fast as her excitement increased. Her conscience kept nagging that this kind of pleasure was sinfully wrong, but her body was too weak to resist.
Mother Superior kissed her budding pink nipples and made them bloom with rushing blood.
"This is the sort of temptation that you must learn to resist," the woman said.
She sucked one luscious tit and tongued the hardened nipple until it throbbed. She softly squeezed the other tit with both hands and whirled that nipple with her thumbs.
Angelique writhed with gasping moans. She was wrestling with her conscience but enjoying the spread of warmth. Mother Superior swayed to the side and kissed the bounding soft plane of Angelique's belly.
Her tongue teased and stroked while her hands kept up the manipulation of her tits. She kissed the rumpled little hollow of Angelique's belly button and wiggled her wet tongue inside.
The young blonde sighed ecstatically and arched her back. Mother Superior slid one hand down and cupped it beneath her ass. She fondled the quivering cheeks one after the other, then she slid her middle finger into the soft cleft.
"Men will want to do all these things to you," she warned. "They are powerfully drawn to ripe young bodies like yours."
Angelique groaned. The idea of a man touching her was detestable.
The finger teasing around the rim of her ass made its taut little round lips squirm. And the joyous, twisting sensation worked its way up in her loins. Her soft pussy sleeve began to clench and surge. It brought damp warmth from the sultry depths. The sweet, tart scent of musk filled the gloomy chamber.
"That is a smell you must never forget," Mother Superior said with a wry little grin. "It is the devil's hot breath!"
"Aaagh," she cringed. More than all earthly pain and suffering, Angelique had been taught to fear the devil's sly temptations.
"There is some of Satan in all of us," Mother Superior said. "He lives here, deep in the hollow of your most forbidden place." She bowed her head and kissed Angelique's simmering cunt.
"Oooh, God!" she cried.
Mother Superior lapped and sucked sweet virgin cunt with her tongue swirling. "The devil has powers you would hardly believe. This might help drive him out."
She pressed her slender middle finger into Angelique's writhing ass and wiggled it deep.
Angelique bucked and twitched, arching to escape the contractions that now engulfed both her pussy and ass. Mother Superior slammed her mouth on her softly padded cunt.
"I will devour him! I will free you from the devil!"
"Oooh, yes! Don't let Satan claim my soul!"
The Reverend Mother sucked cunt like a lewd fiend, madly swirling her tongue on Angelique's clit.
"He's stronger than ever!" the girl cried in fearful despair.
"That is Satan emerging. I will soon make you free of him."
Angelique's climax was starting. The cunt-hungry nun knew it would take only another few strokes of her slithering tongue to send the girl into a shivering fit.
She plunged her finger in and out of her bounding ass. When the girl squealed and writhed into a high arch, she lowered her head and thrust into her cunt with rapid tongue strokes.
Angelique knew the tension of an approaching climax even though she didn't know quite what it was. If it was the devil in her emerging, then she wondered how there could be any of him left. This happened dozens of times while the nuns in the courtyard were astride her.
She let go a long cry as the orgasm neared its peak. Her shrill wail grew steadily louder and higher pitched. Angelique's whole body was frantically twisting and squirming. Fierce spasms in her pussy heaved to wring the last trace of Satan from its depths.
Almost a full minute passed before she found strength to breathe again.
"Is he gone now?" the girl asked weakly.
"Is who gone?"
Thrilled by watching Angelique's orgasm, the Reverend Mother had briefly forgotten the fanciful story about Satan being inside her.
"The devil," Angelique said. "Have you freed me from him?"
"I don't know, dear. Let's see if there's any left."
She climbed up on the bed with the anxious young blonde, but was turned so that she faced her feet. That Angelique didn't understand.
Mother Superior straddled her face and bent down.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"We're going to do it together. I want to know if there might be some of the devil lurking inside of me. You are to search for him with your tongue."
Mother Superior gazed fondly at Angelique's golden-haired pussy and thought to herself, it's going to be a marvelous week. She'll fear the devil more than ever when she's learned he can never be completely gotten rid of. And then I'll send her into hell on this earth.
An astronaut leaving a spacecraft to explore the planet Mars could not have felt more tense and strangely excited than Sister Angelique when she stepped off the inter-city bus at Harbor Station a week later.
It was a long ride from the distant convent in the peaceful countryside. She arrived late at night. The teeming squalor of the busy waterfront was like an alien world.
Damp fog was draped like a shroud outside the bus station, so Angelique put on a hooded plastic raincoat to cover her new black habit. She had said her final vows in an impressive ceremony at the convent the day before. She'd become a full-fledged nun years sooner than expected.
She had worn a beautiful long white gown of satin and lace for the ceremony-her symbolic marriage with God. She was even given a golden wedding band to wear, a sign of her strict vow to remain ever-faithful to the Lord above, forsaking all earthly pleasures.
Angelique still had some misgivings. Mother Superior's tutoring had shown the devil was still strong within her. Nothing she did all week drove him out. If anything, that restless evil stirring grew stronger. All that gave her faith was knowing that Mother Superior had it too. Satan tantalized them both dozens of times.
Few would have guessed the sweet-faced innocent girl was a nun. A plain black raincoat completely covered her habit. Angelique had hiked up the long skirt and cinched it with her cord belt so the hem wouldn't get soiled on the damp, dirty street.
Her shapely legs and trim ankles showed. So did a lock of fine golden hair. Pulling up the hood of the raincoat had put the white-trimmed black mantle of her habit slightly askew.
Going out the main door, she almost bumped into a garishly clad, overly made-up old whore. The woman turned and stared after the tender and innocent-looking young blonde.
She said in a coarse gravelly voice, "Honey, if I had your looks, I wouldn't walk these streets alone at night."
Angelique was in a hurry to get to the mission and didn't hear what the woman said. The hooker shrugged and then laughed to herself.
"Hell, if I looked like you, I'd be a fucking millionaire!"
Sister Angelique turned south on Harbor Boulevard as she'd been told to do and vanished into the swirling mist. Father Brannigan's mission was six blocks down the street and she was anxious to meet him.
Mother Superior had said he was an extraordinary young priest. She didn't tell Angelique he was a rebel, banished to the seedy mission for his errant behavior. Nor did she let the girl know that she was being sent to suffer along with him.
The buildings were all dark, many deserted and boarded up. Most women would have been terrified on that murky street, but Angelique was too innocent to know fear.
A huge rat scurried across her path and leaped into a smelly trash can looking for food. The lid fell to the ground with a loud clang that made her heart leap.
At the mouth of the next alley, Angelique saw an even more worrisome sight, a gang of hardened teenagers in matching jackets, four boys and two girls around her age but much more worldly wise.
They watched intently when she hurried by. Angelique saw the backs of their jackets were all decorated with a leering devil's head. Fire spewed from the fang-toothed face of evil and swirled to form the words "SATAN'S SLAVES."
That shocked the young nun. It was blasphemy to display an image of Satan and worse to revere it by pledging allegiance to him as the slogan implied. She quickened her pace even more, but the tallest and strongest of the young males grabbed her suddenly from behind.
"Hey, honey ... what's your hurry?" His arms encircled and yanked her back.
"Stop that! Let go of me!"
His hand reached up and pulled down her hood. The white-trimmed black mantle of her habit was also dislodged, but in the dark they didn't notice that. Her long golden hair streamed down her back.
"My name's Monk," he said, still holding her tight. "What's yours?"
"Sister Angelique," she replied hotly. "I'm a-"
He cut her off with a raucous laugh. "Only black girls call themselves sister when they aren't, and I can see you ain't one of them."
Monk stroked a hand through the long golden hair.
"I want to get to know you better, Angelique. A whole lot better!" Monk snaked his arms around her and squeezed her tits. "Oooh, baby! You're beautiful!"
Angelique cringed violently when he touched her breasts. She knew about the devil lurking inside her and feared that he might emerge again. But she felt only pain from Monk's grasping hands.
He dragged her backwards into the dark alley. "I just gotta see what all you got under that raincoat!" His hot, foul breath filled her ear.
She struggled and squirmed and in her slick plastic raincoat she was hard to hold on to. She twisted and broke from his grasp, but there was no place to go. The other gang members circled around her, pressing her back to the wall.
She grabbed a broken shovel handle from an overflowing trash can and swung it hard to drive them back. Monk dodged the blow and grinned.
"I like it best when a girl puts up a fight," he said with a leering grin.
Angelique hissed and changed her grip on the hardwood shovel handle. She held it like a spear and lunged to ram the rounded end deep into his gut.
Monk was a foot taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier than Angelique. But his breath gushed and he staggered back with a strickened look of pain spreading over his face.
She whirled and swung the stick with both hands again, clubbing the side of his head with a vicious blow. He fell unconscious in a crumpled heap. The boy standing next to him leaped back, but not quick enough. He was felled by the same slashing blow.
Her skillful use of the shovel handle had been learned at the convent. In ancient times the stone-walled sanctuaries of Europe were often raided and the nuns raped, sometimes for days on end. Rules of the Holy Order did not allow the nuns to have weapons, so they learned to defend themselves with common garden tools. Those ancient skills were still taught, and Angelique had learned her lessons well.
The two young males still on their feet both flicked out long, razor-sharp switchblades, glaring at her with eyes full of hate. Few along the waterfront dared to challenge Satan's Slaves.
They spread wide apart, both feinting knife thrusts while maneuvering to attack from two directions at once. Angelique watched them both, her suddenly cold and clear blue eyes darting back and forth. A confident little grin curled her lips. She would prove herself to be a worthy nun yet.
The boy on the left made a lunging underhand thrust, but she whirled out of the way with a dancer's nimble grace and brought the shovel handle cracking down hard across his wrist.
Bones shattered with a sickening crunch. The knife flew away and he stumbled back screaming.
His partner came at her from behind with a grunt of rage, but Angelique continued her spin and whirled to face him. She thrust the shovel handle at him like a sword and stabbed the sharp broken end a good three inches into his thigh.
He howled and dropped the knife to clamp both hands on the ragged, blood-gushing wound. Angelique took off running before either of the two female gang members thought to stop her. The last they saw was her streaming golden hair.
"Jesus Christ!" one girl said in amazement. "She put down four of our top guys! Can you believe that?"
"Not hardly," her friend answered. "And she won't believe what's gonna happen to her either."
Angelique ran all the way to the mission without looking back. When she arrived at the door she was just starting to breathe hard. Rigorous work at the convent and a life of wholesome food had made her a superb physical specimen. Besides beauty, she had strength and endurance few women could match.
The door of the mission was barred and locked at that late hour. Angelique beat on it frantically with her fists, not knowing how long it would take the less severely injured gang members to catch up with her.
"Father Brannigan! Open the door! It's Sister Angelique!" And then with a nervous glance back down the fog-shrouded street she prayed, "Oh, please, dear God ... make him hurry!"
Her tits still ached from the mauling Monk had given them, but she felt only the pain, not the sinful stirring that usually started when her forbidden parts had been touched.
Father Brannigan heard the noise and stumbled out of bed sleepy-eyed. The urgency of a strained female voice compelled him to mdve without thinking. He hurried to the front door wearing nothing but his undershorts. He rattled open the door with its double locks.
"What is it, my child?" he asked.
Brannigan had been too fast asleep to make much of what she first said. He didn't realize this was Sister Angelique. While he was expecting a nun to arrive soon, a stunning young blonde still in her teens was not what he had envisioned.
"I was attacked on the street," she said.
"Yes, that happens quite often around here. Come in, I'll protect you."
He stepped back to admit her and gave the frightened girl another admiring glance. She looked ravishing with beads of mist agleam in her long golden hair. He closed and locked the door behind her.
"Er, forgive my attire. I wasn't expecting company so late at night."
"It's all right, I'm just thankful to be here safe with you."
Her modest blue eyes carefully avoided his bulging undershorts. Brannigan was a handsome man in his mid-thirties with a strong-featured face and piercing dark eyes. He had the rippled, muscular build of an athlete and a charming smile.
Because her eyes never left his face, Angelique had no idea that just looking at her had given him an outrageous hard-on. Brannigan's big cock pulsed and throbbed, swelling hard despite all his training for the priesthood-or maybe because of it.
Paul Brannigan hadn't become a priest by choice and he hadn't yet adjusted fully to the idea that he was one. Seventeen years before, he'd fucked a very beautiful young blonde like this one at a high school Halloween party. He'd gone dressed as a policeman. She flirted and teased his big cock all night, only to throw up her girlish defenses when he wanted to do more than tease.
Brannigan had used the handcuffs that came with his rented costume to restrain her. She had been a virgin who screamed and cried a lot at first. His cock was eleven inches long and almost three inches thick at the root, more than most girls wanted-especially their first time.
He had to fuck her four times before she quit sobbing and began to beg for more. What a night that was! Just the memory started him breathing hard. But not all of his recollections were pleasant.
The next morning all hell had broken loose. The girl, whose name was Maria, told her parents that she'd been bound and raped repeatedly without any provocation by Paul.
Her father was outraged and threatened to press charges. But Paul's worried parents got the parish priest to intercede. It was suggested the boy be sent to a monastery instead of prison. Maria's father agreed quickly to that because he had important connections high in the church. He knew he could have the boy who had raped his daughter punished in ways that civil law would never allow.
The Monks inside the monastery had greeted Paul Brannigan with hickory switches. They whipped his big cock bloody that first day and lashed it again countless times after that.
His long cockshaft became gnarled and twisted, able to feel only pain ... then able to feel nothing at all through the hideous lumps of scar tissue that formed.'With all the fire of manhood beaten out of him, Brannigan settled down to his studies and was ordained a priest at the head of his class.
Maria's father was still pulling strings with vengeful delight. He had Brannigan assigned to run the church in a leper colony on a remote island in the south Pacific. That turned out to be a blessing for Paul that no one expected.
He met a beautiful island girl, a daughter of the village chief. She fell madly in love with his strangely warped prick and soon brought it back to full vigor.
She brought him other beautiful island girls anxious to sample the magic of his huge twisted cock. He was not just a priest but a god to them. He fucked one succulent offering after another.
Brannigan would have happily stayed there forever, but somehow word of his island paradise got back to Maria's father. Father Brannigan was hauled off the island by shocked church officials and assigned to the miserable waterfront mission.
But tonight Paul Brannigan was thinking there might be a righteous God after all. Who else could have delivered him such an adorable young blonde?