“So you see, my darling boy, that some good may even come by a young lady suffering herself to be treated with what at first seems nothing but sheer lustful brutality.” She took my hand in hers.
“What do you think of my story, Auguste?”
“I think,” said I, “that I should have liked to have been there to see. But as it is, I'm dreadfully excited, and I should like, if you have no objection…”
“What! You dear greedy boy!” she exclaimed.
“Well,” I stammered out, hesitating, “what Father Eustace
… did you like it? I think I should. I never have done it yet, you know. May I try?”
“Oh, my bottomhole, you mean!” replied my aunt with great calmness. “Oh certainly. I dare say you'll enjoy it very much. I'll turn my rump towards you and stick it well out as I lie on my side. You can put your manly rod in as leisurely and lazily as you like.” So saying, she placed herself in the posture she described. I put the head of my cock to the starfish shaped aperture, amazed that my huge organ could find entrance in so small an opening. But I proceeded nonetheless, forcing it into her while she gasped and pushed back against me. This continued until the shaft was half-buried. The tightness was exquisite and I reveled in the near painful sensation. Then I leaned forward and drove deeper with my weight until the length of the shaft found harbor. I began to work it in and out, drawing it out to the head and pushing it slowly in until it again fully disappeared. I increased the pace until it seemed I was fucking in near normal fashion and came within one or two additional strokes, copiously wetting the rearward portion of my companion. This being concluded to our mutual satisfaction, my beautiful bedfellow and I fell asleep in each other's arms.
Early in the morning we were awakened by an elderly lay sister bringing in chocolate and biscuits. Not being in on the secret, she regarded me with some curiosity, and supposed that I was an innocent girl who had been unnaturally treated. She made some anxious inquiries after my health and offered her services to help me to dress. I thanked her, after which my aunt said that we weren't going to rise for an hour, that she would help her niece to dress, and we should require no assistance.
“The abominable prying old woman!” exclaimed Agatha. “But she has brought us this good chocolate, which, laced with a spoonful of brandy, will be an excellent restorative.”
As we drank it, my aunt revealed to me a plot she proposed with my assistance to carry into execution against one of the nuns. This Sister Agnes was not only very devout herself, but unnecessarily rigid in her notion of propriety, correcting the slightest appearance of levity among the novices and the younger sisters, and threatening to inform the visiting monks of the slightest appearance of indecorum. Indeed, my aunt had discovered that she had really done so. Father Eustace told her of the matter as a good joke. But she was annoyed at having her province as Lady Abbess trespassed upon and had determined to get the girl, for she was little more, being barely twenty, into a snare of some sort. That way, the squealer could no longer pride herself upon her propriety of conduct, and my aunt would be no longer troubled with her prudery and spying.
Agatha assured me that there was nothing disagreeable in the part she wanted me to play in the little scheme. The aforesaid Agnes was really a very fine, tall, dark-haired, slender girl, and if any ravishing or any less violent form of fucking had to be done, she was sure I would find it a very delightful occupation.
Her plan was this, to write a confidential note to Sister Agnes, complimenting her on her zeal for the purity of the convent, and the watchful eye she kept upon the younger sisters. Then she would mention the presence of her niece (meaning me), being fresh from the gaieties of Paris life, and expressing her dread lest I should be infecting or even corrupting the novices with descriptions of what I had heard or seen in the wicked world outside the convent walls.
She would therefore beg dear Sister Agnes to keep a sharp eye upon me. If she fancied that I had been too long in the company of any of the young ladies, she was to enter the room suddenly, as if by accident, and on the slightest appearance of improper familiarity, bring me instantly to her (the Mother Superior's) private apartment to be reprimanded. This note was written and sent with an appearance of secrecy to Agnes.
My instructions were to be as familiar as I pleased with Emilie, Adele, or Louise. “Only,” said my dear aunt, “do reserve a little of your strength, in case I should require you to humble Agnes' pride.”
“How shall I know Agnes when I see her?” I asked.
“By her demure and sanctified look,” was the answer. “Besides, she never indulges in the slightest irregularity in her dress. She is in black, and the only luxury she indulges in is the finest black silk stockings. Perhaps, dear Auguste, before the day closes, you will know more about those stockings than you do now. Mind you follow her with apparent reluctance, when she brings you to me. Between fucking Emilie, Louise and Adele, you will surely manage to give her cause for doing so. So for the present, dearest Auguste, adieu!”
Anonymous
The Nunnery Tales
Chapter Four
After breakfast, my aunt summoned Emilie, and gave me into her charge. She told her to introduce me to the pleasantest and best looking of the young ladies, and that we might amuse ourselves with embroidery or other similar work. And so she dismissed us, to the great delight of Emilie. Actually I'd been afraid that my aunt's rest and refreshment might have restored her lust to such an extent that I would have to service her once again. I was hoping to gather my strength for the benefit of the young ladies in whose company I planned to find amusement and gratification.
When we were in the corridor Emilie threw her arms around me and kissed me rapturously, saying how glad she was to see me.
“I hardly expected to see you looking so healthy after passing the night with our Lady Superior. How did you like your bedfellow? Was she very lusty?”
And so she rattled on until she had extracted from me an account of part of the night's amusements. She was thrilled as well to learn of our plans for dear Sister Agnes.
“Oh,” Emilie exclaimed, “that will be really delightful. She is so prudish and sanctified and such an old maid that I am glad to hear that the pride and formality will be taken out of her a little. I'll take very good care that if there is no impropriety going on when she visits our apartment, there very soon shall be. I think I can guess what your aunt intends to do. She will get Agnes safely into her chamber with you under pretense of hearing her complaints, and then with your assistance strap her down on the edge of the bed with a leg fastened to each of the foot posts. If she is placed in that convenient position, I hope you'll split her cunt up handsomely with your cock. If you don't, I'll never forgive you. And, speaking of bedrooms, I suppose there can be no impropriety in one young lady showing another her sleeping apartment,” she laughed. “Perhaps you'll come and see what a nice little room I have got. It's close at hand.”
I followed her into her snug little chamber, where her first action was to bolt the door. The second was to put her hand up my petticoats and grasp my tool that was already half-erect, while she kissed me and murmured some broken sentences in my ear to the effect that she had been dreaming of me all night. She had hoped that day before that I might have managed to ride her, but circumstances prevented it. She was afraid that similar circumstances might prove an obstacle today if I didn't seize the moment. She longed for me, she moaned. In fact, she begged and prayed me to fuck her as if it was the greatest boon Heaven or earth could grant her.
I was by no means indifferent to her entreaties. She evidently was passionately fond of me, and I was more than eager to fill her wishes. I thrust my hand up her petticoats as she had hers up mine and what I felt certainly urged me on. For the lips of her cunt were open; the moist tunnel was burning hot. Upon pushing my finger well into the interior, I felt her clitoris asserting itself like a little cock. My fingering procured the expected results; her canal became a slick and drippingly eager receptacle and my prick stood stiff as an iron bar. Without further delay, I dragged her clothes up to her armpits, pushing her at the same time upon the edge of the bed. That done, I raised my own petticoats and presented my prick at the lightly-mossed lips of her cunt. I shoved into her at once, right up to the balls with my very first thrust. This produced a single exclamation of “Oh!” from the young lady, speedily stopped by my lips being pressed to hers and my tongue rolling into her mouth. I slowly withdrew my lance until the swollen head resided just within the juicy folds, and then I leaned forward so as to clasp her heaving breasts while plunging in once again. I could feel my shaft scraping the tender inner membranes as I
