absorbing within her maiden channel the enormity, the breadth, the vigor and the gristle-cartilage-edifice of his virile prick – nay more, openly and within his hearing telling him how each languished for that honor! Was he not, dear reader, already better off by far than this despotic Bey of Algiers who had spirited away the brother of the two French sisters for the Bey needs must command his concubines to harlotry with him under pain of lash and bowstring if they do not readily submit; while here Father Lawrence had only to crook his finger (and bare his manly, always tirelessly willing cock) to have a very feast of fuckery!
Yet now from the soft slurpings of tongue and lips applied to cunt and then in turn soft girlish lips laid piously upon sturdy throbbing prick, I knew that Father Lawrence and Louisette, the hour-older sister, were at oneness in that pose known as soixante-neuf, and not much later I discerned, from the murmurs and sighs and exquisitely fluted love-cries that Marisia and Denise were emulating the English ecclesiastic and his partner thusly.
“Take care, my daughters,” Father Lawrence left off gamahuching Louisette long enough to caution, “in your sweet mouthings do not seize a single follicle of maidenhair and wrench it out by the roots, or you will render the tally erroneous, and so, should a worthy prelate hold you to that vow and insist either on your counting out your cunthairs for him or making by himself that momentous reckoning, he will not confound you as a lying jade and so visit upon you his wrath forthwith and declare your vow not binding on his demanding cock!”
“I have made Marisia push my hairs apart with her fingers to lay bare my little con just in anticipation of that danger, mon Pere,” was Denise's husky retort.
“What foresight, my daughter! Armed with such imaginative wisdom, I tell you it will not surprise me overmuch if you pass through your novitiate unfucked and thus retain your cherished virginity,” he replied. “But let us hasten to bring joy to our sweetly accommodating partners as to ourselves, that we may all get sleep enough to strengthen us for the remainder of our journey. Ah, Louisette, how daintily your cunt has a way to open its pretty pink mouth for my tongue, and how that little button at the top of those two inner labia which lead to the mystic canal of your affections boldly flaunts itself, erect and throbbing, as if boasting that it has a kinship with my own turgid weapon! So come, I will salute it – thus – and – thus – and again thus!”
“Ahh – ouuu – ohhh, je meurs – je meurs – ahh, ohh, baise mot vite – je viens, je viens, ouuooooahh!” Louisette cried in a hoarse, trembling voice that told me she was both dying and coming and that she was wishing to be fucked quickly, but of course he only half-assuaged her, tongue-fucking being, though delicious, not hardly the consummation of her innermost desires.
Yet it sufficed. And then Marisia and Denise made their own impassioned chorus of cunt-appeasement and each gave down her lovedew, and then sweet serenity reigned, and Father Lawrence tiptoed back to his room alone, leaving his three wards to sleep in the single bed and dream of what awaited them on the morrow.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It was late afternoon of the next day when the coach from Somerset deposited the good Father and his three French virgin wards before the doors of the Seminary of St. Thaddeus.
“Now remember, my daughters,” he counseled all three, “at the moment I ring this bell to summon the old sacristan – who, by the way, does not take part in the nocturnal confessionals to which all novices are subjected by the order of priests – you pass from childish games and maidenly whims to the stern rigors of a discipline which may astound you. There are three here of whom you must especially beware: the Father Superior himself, who never tells any maiden his Christian name lest she conceive a secret passion for him by thus cherishing it in her heart after his member has been lodged well inside her cunt; the red-haired, massive-cocked Father Clement, and the bull-like Father Ambrose, a very satyr of a man, with curling black hair that almost hides the huge gnarled sacks wherein he stores his never ending potions of hot bubbling spunk. The others, and there are, with myself added as I am told, an even dozen, are of varying dangers to you, my chaste wards. Hence remember earnestly your vow, and better yet, the tally about which it is concocted. Are you all of a mind to retain this good advice?”
“Mon Pere, one question,” Marisia unexpectedly spoke out, and ah, I shall forever bless that raven-haired young baggage in my own unholy orisons.
“Two, if need be, but hasten. The evening meal is of an excellence which even surpasses the viands which good Master Thomas furnished us last night.”
“I have thought of an idea,” Marisia explained. “A vow is all very well, but what if the priest asks on what sacred relic it was sworn? Now, the locket which you confiscated from me mon Pere – might I not produce it and say it was given me by Saint Laurette herself?”
“My daughter, from what I have heard no virgin has ever managed to end her days as novice at St. Thaddeus and either go forth into the temporal world or cloister herself in a nearby convent known as the Convent of St. Anne the Deaf (who, it is purported, attained sainthood because when a lusting rogue of handsome measurements, lineage and features stole to her bedchamber of a dark night and whispered to her that he was wild to fuck her, she, being deaf, could not hear him and so went into the watercloset and locked the door, and ever since that day this rogue swore that no woman was e'er so chaste) with her virginity still intact. But with the artifice you have just devised, I swear by all I hold dear that you have a bright and hopeful chance. Here, then, is your locket, my dear child.”
I felt him plunge his hand into the pocket of his silken cassock. Oh joy indescribable, to be once more with sweet Marisia! And then I felt myself moved about as he handed her the token. “Keep it guarded but in readiness, my daughter, so that when you are brought to bay of a priest who will hear only your 'Yes' of avowal and never your 'No' of virginal refusal, you may produce it and hold it up as a venerable relic, much as did the Holy Crusaders who plundered the Saracen camps and once, it is recorded, finding the jawbone of a jennet – which is an ass, my daughters – did mistake it for the thighbone of Sulieman the Damned. Yet with such good faith did they champion their mistaken discovery that many great battles were won and many maidens ravished and thus brought to the true faith, for a Christian cock is blessed over the Saracen blade as all righteous folk are well aware of. Now, I ring the bell, my daughters!”
This he did, whilst the sweet raven-haired Marisia tucked me away in her bosom, putting the little chain about her neck and letting the locket slip down under the bodice, so that I reposed – or at least my prison did with me inside it – as close to naked girl-flesh as I had once done on the fair Bella and then Julia when I had first made acquaintance with the Seminary staffed by such envigored codes as would terrify all the maids in Christendom.
There was a great creaking of the heavy oaken door, and a senile, white-haired man in the simple black habit of a lowly friar stuck his head out and croaked, “Who rings with such unseemly impatience? This is a holy house, and all are at meditations.”
“Go tell the Father Superior that it is Father Lawrence come to begin his assignment to the venerable Seminary. Oh, white-haired sacristan, speed your aging limbs!” (This reply, my readers, was how I learned of the physical lineaments of the sacristan.)
“He is at his beads in the cell of penitence.”
“With a fair novice, I would guess,” Father Lawrence quipped.
“Aye! But that is not your affair. How do I know you are truly meant to quarter here?” the old man suspiciously whined.
“Clear the rheum from your dimming eyes, my good sacristan, and behold three fair novices, aye, as fair as ever entered St. Thaddeus. Tell the Father Superior of what your vision has been, and I warrant you he will slice your portion a larger slice by fair of the good mutton than you have had in a fortnight! Go, dispatch, keep not three tender virgins waiting!”
The door swung wider now, and the old man hobbled off cackling to himself, and Father Lawrence gently ordered, “Come, my daughters, cast down your eyes and be not bold of speech or manner, but remember what little English I have lately taught you. You are to remember foremost the English phrases, 'I have taken a vow, my Father,' and 'I cannot give myself without my vow, Father.' Then also, when you see the gleaming eyes and the reaching hands that hunger for your sweet bodies, you must say, 'Oh no, I prithee, Father, it is against my vow!' Now these three goodly terms should suffice you at least for this first night. Later, as I can, I will hurriedly impart to you other answers, and you in turn must relay to me the behavior of your holy and vigilant accosters. For
