'Listen to the Pope,' Rico laughed derisively, slipping the shirt over his broad shoulders and buttoning it. 'You ain't gonna help nobody. You're gonna sit around here like the rest of 'em. And when we're through, you can pray for souls all you want,' he said, lowering his face to hers and grinning foully at her.
The young nun felt chills ripple up and down her spine. How could she have let this go so far? Oh, God does punish! She'd have the blood of that Spanish diplomat on her hands for eternity. Already the young nun could smell the fires of hell!
After they all dressed, Rico and Jack escorted the trembling woman from the bedroom, down the corridor to one of the rooms near where she'd last seen Mother Superior. No one was inside at the time when Jack shoved her in roughly, telling her it was useless to escape. The nun stood holding onto her upper arms with criss-crossed hands, her eyes lowered to the floor as the door slammed and was bolted shut behind her.
For what seemed like hours, she stood in the middle of that dark, barren room, her eyes filled with tears of shame. Images of her and the two commandos filled her mind. She thought of the way she'd encouraged them, of the delicious sensations tearing through her cunt as Jack and Rico fucked her in the ass and cunt.
'Oh, God, forgive me, forgive me!' she cried in a trembling whisper.
As the shadows crept menacingly across the wooden floor, Sister Mary Theresa sank to her knees, her lips moving as she prayed for her soul and the souls of the men torturing her.
She must have fallen asleep. Shaking herself from stupor, the nun realized she had collapsed, her head resting on one arm. Moaning softly she roused herself, feeling stiff, dirty, defiled. It was still night. Hugging her body tightly, the nun walked to a barred window overlooking the service alley. Pressing her forehead against the glass, she looked up at the black sky. It was so peaceful. All those stars in that cloudless sky made it seem so quiet and good. Yet here she was, trapped in the convent with other nuns by men who were bent on destroying another human being! And there seemed nothing she could do to save him!
It was growing cold inside. Even the thick garment now hanging half in tatters on her body couldn't shield her completely from the drafts in the room.
Shivering, Sister Mary Theresa turned from the window, wondering what she could do to free herself and save the diplomat.
It was in this frame of mind she heard footsteps approaching the door. Tensing, the young nun backed away, making the sign of the cross when she heard someone fumbling with the doorknob.
A hand shot in, moving up and down the wall, searching for a light switch.
The nun turned her head away, closing her eyes and shielding them with one hand as the overhead light clicked on.
'Sorry about that,' she heard Jack say. Someone else was in the room with him. Her eyes became accustomed to the light quickly. Turning back around, she saw him there with the two other terrorists, Rick and Joe.
'She's been through the mill,' Joe observed sourly. He was the youngest of the four, his face looking like the portraits the holy painters created depicting angels and cherubim. Tall, slender, blond, this commando looked as if he should be leading a church choir rather than carrying an M-16 automatic slung over his shoulder.
'Rico and Jack don't fuck around,' Rick answered. Rick was the oldest and least intelligent of the commandos. He was a big man, not young any longer. Without this terrorist group, he might have remained a clerk in some obscure accounting firm. But Jack or Rico had discovered his talents for subterfuge, cruelty and good shooting. Rick enjoyed his mercenary-type of terrorism. For Jack, Rico and Joe it was only a job. For him it was the fulfillment of many fantasies.
Forty, slightly pot-bellied and round-faced, the big man enjoyed standing there in the doorway, his rifle butt pointed at her head.
'The boys wanna see you perform. We got some time. Rico's with the other girls,' he said, laughing. 'Girls, yeah. We oughtta see if they dig this kinda shit.'
Sister Mary Theresa was horrified. They were going to turn the convent into a brothel of rape!
CHAPTER EIGHT
'Don't!'
Sister Mary Theresa lay on the floor, covering her forehead with one hand while stretching the other behind her for support. Rick had dropped his gun from his shoulder, giving it to Joe and approaching her. She could see the cool animal sadism filling his eyes. Moving backward, the terrified nun looked for something she could grab to defend herself.
'Please!' she begged. Not again, dear God, not again! And now there were three of them harassing her, scratching their groins, waiting for her to spread her legs so they could take their pleasure with her and sully her soul!
Sister Mary Theresa tensed as Rick raised one hand. He let her scoot back to the wall, her eyes rounding, bulging, showing the terror and shame she felt surging through her body. While she lay cringing against the wall, he advanced slowly.
The nun saw his hard-on, his cock pressing against the front of his trousers. His eyes reminded her of the stare of a hungry rat. His thick lips were curled into a sick smile while his jaw trembled with excitement. Sister Mary Theresa's eyes raced from Jack to Joe, hoping she'd find some kind of hope there.
But the two men only watched with interest. She trembled, terrified of what was to follow. Rick smiled more broadly, his flabby lips pulled across his teeth. She flattened herself as best she could against the wall as the hand arched down.
'Unnghhh!' she cried as his fingers struck hard across her cheek. The report of the slap and her quavering cry filled the small room. The force of that blow made her head throb.
'Yeah,' Rick muttered to himself. He let her cry for a second, scratching his groin, breathing more irregularly as his cock stiffened and thickened.
The nun was aware of a sexual thrill, intensified by the fear she felt. Oh, it was happening again! Was there nothing that could stop her pussy from tightening and heating up at will?
Oh, he was unzipping his fly!
'That's it Joe, fuck her. Loosen her up,' Jack said, feeling his cock tighten in his pants. The big leader wanted to touch Sister Mary Theresa. He remembered her tight cunt, her supple body, the way she twisted and writhed under the slightest touch. But he had other plans for her and restrained his desire to fuck her.
'Oh!' Sister Mary Theresa cried, pulling herself up off the floor. Rick's prick was thick and long just like the others. The red tip of his cock glowed like a heated branding iron. His balls were taut, drawn up into the leathery sac dangling from his cock. With a sudden wild thought, the nun wanted to touch his prick, feel his balls brushing against her knuckles. It was only with the greatest restraint she kept her hands from his crotch.
Sobbing, her back against the wall, Sister Mary Theresa clenched her fingers into two tight fists and pressed them against the floor. No, she wouldn't give into Satan any more. She'd think of God, think of the damnation awaiting her if she continued in this sort of unholy action. Dizzy with fear for her spiritual life as well as her physical one, the nun watched helplessly as Rick pushed his trousers down to his boot tops. The hot smell of his groin washed over her.
Moving up, she watched as his big cock waved back and forth, striking the bottom of his shirt. Even though he was old and fat, the older man still had muscular thighs.
The nun's tits swelled, the nipples growing taut again, scratching against her dress. Her pussy was trembling, her cunt muscles contracting, forcing her cuntwalls to rub against one another. She realized then that her whole body was alive, quivering, waiting for his touch as if he were her lover!
In a moment she found Rick on top of her. He was tearing her garment, hoisting it high above her waist, exposing her juicing pussy. Reaching down between her legs, be cupped her pussy, squeezing the furry hot mound hard and feeling it respond with rippling, quivering movements of its own.
'She's ready,' he mumbled.
'She's always ready,' Jack countered, smirking at the nun sprawled on the floor.
Sister Mary Theresa groaned. It was uncomfortable being stretched on the hard wood, her shoulders and
