"The Nunnery Tales" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anonymous)

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 penetrated to the core of her belly. I began slowly thrusting with steady tempo, gradually increasing the length and force of the strokes. Eventually I was ramming into her like a man insane while she shrieked and squirmed and wriggled beneath me. My pent-up flood could no longer be restrained after another series of lunges, and I released it with a satisfied groan. My cock, buried deeply in her pussy, jerked free its load of burning cream, thoroughly inundating Emilie's innards.

After we'd rested a bit, Emilie carefully wiped and dried my cream-coated tool. Then we hastened to arrange our dresses, after which we exited Emilie's room. “You know,” she said. “I think you might manage to fuck Louise under the pretense of its being some innocent little game you were playing with her. She not only has no experience, but she doesn't seem to have any ideas on the subject. She is totally ignorant, but I think you may open her eyes!”

“By opening her thighs I suppose,” was my reply, at which she laughed. Together we entered the morning room that was occupied by some of the novices.

There were seated Adele, Louise, and a third party I didn't know, who seemed to be a lay sister instructing the young ladies in the mysteries of some sort of needlework. As we entered, she rose and retired and I was affectionately received by Adele and Louise.

After some talk of no consequence between a few girls in company, Adele began half in jest, half in earnest, to ask more pointed questions. Adele, of course, was the novice who had the honor, experience and pleasure of passing the night as the bedfellow of the Mother Superior. She specifically wanted to know if Lady Agatha had fingered me, if she had made me finger her, if she had used a dildo on me, and if she had taken my maidenhead. To all of these questions I gave the best answers I could. I informed the girl that although my aunt did some fingering, all the dildo work was of a new method that my aunt admired very much. Indeed, I said, I had the device on at that very moment. I must here remark that the experienced Emilie had fastened around my waist a belt, which had a hole in the center, through which my cock and balls projected. This belt was buckled behind my rump and gave me the appearance of wearing a dildo. I don't think Adele would exactly have broken her heart with vexation if I had at once announced myself to be a young man and proposed to fuck her on the spot! But with Louise, it was necessary to use a little caution. Of course, both girls expressed a curiosity to see my novelty. Adele impudently proposed to take up my petticoats and inspect me at once. Louise more slyly hinted that if I would be so kind, she would like to see what sort of a thing it was.

Emilie checked Adele's ardor by telling her that she already had experienced such pleasure and that she herself had been well fucked by Father Eustace in the course of her penance the previous day. The sly monkey did not say anything of the loving performance in which she had shared just half an hour before. Therefore, it was only fair that both she and Adele should give the first chance to Louise, who had never had either a real cock or an imitation, and who could not begin her experience under better circumstances. For this, Louise thanked her and timidly asked what she was expected to do?

“First of all, my love,” replied Emilie in a dictatorial tone, “you must raise up your frock and your underclothing, so that Mademoiselle d'Ermonville can make complete investigation of your secret treasures. When he – er, she, I mean – has done so, it will be easier for her to operate upon you, and you will experience more pleasure than pain. We don't want this to be one of those cases where a dildo has been rudely or carelessly inserted, and the girl operated upon has suffered needless pain and felt sore for two or three days afterwards.”

“Certainly,” chimed in Adele, “when Lady Agatha poked me with that dildo of hers, I was obliged to use milk and water for two days afterwards. My poor tender little pussy was quite raw.”

“Don't frighten Louise with your nonsense,” interrupted Emilie severely. “I'll guarantee she'll not have to endure any such disagreeable consequences from our young friend's instrument. It's not like a coarsely made ordinary dildo. Come, child, lift up your petticoats and let Mademoiselle Augustine take your measure.”

The blushing girl obeyed her, pulling up her shift and undergarments, disclosing an alabaster belly and thighs between which nestled her fuzz-bedewed little cunt in all its maiden purity. Upon my gently unfolding the orifice with my fingers, it resembled nothing so much as a rosebud first opening through dark brown moss. Of course, this had the effect that Emilie had designed, for she knew right well that I should require some stimulant after my recent attack upon her. So under the influences of seeing, feeling and kissing the innocent Louise's sweet cunt, my cock began to assert its manly strength once again and rise to the occasion.

Just at this moment, Adele – who was half mad at witnessing performances which she wanted to share in, but could not – began peeping under my petticoats to see if the dildo was in good order and well strapped on. This made me rather nervous, as I feared a premature discovery. But glancing at Emilie and seeing her nod to me and smile, I judged that even if Adele did guess at the truth it would be no great matter.

Our relative positions were thus: Louise stood with her legs apart, while Emilie held up her clothes and soothed and caressed her. I, on my knees, was with my mouth and fingers preparing the pretty, velvet-lined sheath for the reception of my prick, when Adele crouched down between Louise's legs and dragged up my petticoats. She amused herself with inspecting what she no doubt at first supposed to be my dildo. But the truth had to dawn on her. In the first place, though the strap was there, a close observer could see that the “dildo” was not firmly connected with the strap. In the second place, the elasticity, throbbing, and animal heat of a real cock are unmistakable and cannot be counterfeited by an artificial means however ingenious. My ideas on this subject were confirmed by the lascivious girl, who proceeded to fondle and suck and then wrap her lips and tongue around my noble tool. I knew no girl would care about doing such with a mere toy. But however pleasing and flattering this performance may have felt, I became conscious that my intention with regard to Louise would be completely frustrated if this continued, and that the administration of a dose of warm cream in Adele's mouth would be but a poor apology for not taking her young friend's maidenhead. I accordingly thought it high time to proceed to business. I intimated as much to Emilie, who asked me in what position I would like the innocent victim of lust to be placed.

Looking around the room, I could see nothing better than a low divan without back or sides. I suggested that if the sweet girl was laid down on that with a pillow under her rump, and that if Emilie on one side and Adele on the other would each hold up one of her legs, her position would be most satisfactory. This would enable me to get well into her with as little trouble as possible to herself, and with the utmost amount of gratification to me. Also, that would afford the spectators a fair and full view of the entire proceedings from beginning to end. Louise lay down on her back, and drew her clothes up as high as they would go. That way there would be nothing intervening between my belly and hers. They held her legs up tolerably high, and as wide apart as a virgin's could well be pulled without hurting her.

As I made my own trifling preparations, Emilie whispered to me to unbuckle and let fall the dildo strap as it was of no further use for purpose of deception, and might encumber me and hurt Louise. I obeyed instantly.

“And now,” said she, “if you think you have wetted her orifice with your tongue sufficiently, charge into her and good luck to you!”

I didn't need further urging than the sight of that enticing slit awaiting me. I reared back and buried the purpling head of my tool between her taut lips. The very first push I made elicited a scream from Louise. This elicited a laughing remark from Adele, who said, “I think we ought to wish 'good luck' to poor Louise instead of this young gentleman, for she'll be dreadfully sore after all this performance. Upon my word Emilie, I think we had better put a handkerchief or two between her rump and the divan or it will be all stained with sperm and blood.” This they effected, though with some difficulty, for Louise really had not strength enough to raise her rump because of my vigorous pushes. I didn't mean to give her any unnecessary pain, but any one who has had the pleasure of snatching the maiden treasure of a fine, well-shaped, vigorous girl just budding into womanhood, must be quite aware that it is not accomplished without occasioning some trouble and perhaps a little soreness to the gentlemen, and more or less pain and grief to the victim. In our case this was especially true – for not only was Louise naturally small and tight, but she had never been a participant in any of the amusements so much favored by the young ladies of the convent. She had never been dildoed – that was quite evident; and I don't think that she had ever been fingered.

I think that it was about the fifth or sixth heavy push that I broke down her barrier and got fairly into her. Louise faintly screamed and begged me to have mercy upon her and draw myself out of her. But while she was uttering these broken exclamations, she clasped me tightly around the neck and pressed her lips to mine. I didn't think it necessary to comply with her wishes further, so I drew out about four inches, then plunged in again with renewed vigor up to the hilt of my weapon. Her sheath clasped my pulsing rod tightly, milking it with each piston-like stroke. Her protests faded into sighs of pleasure as I began the steady pumping motions designed to release her reservoir of pearly nectar and uncork my own stream of sparkling vintage. I forced myself deeper and deeper until our mounts fairly ground together, the hairs mingling and our bellies scraping. So constricted was her passage around my shaft that that three or four strokes were all that was required to bring me to the bursting point. I could feel the swell of my bursting cock-head as it filled with the rush of my boiling sperm. At the same time, Louise released a flow of warm fluid that fairly erupted from her nearly filled slit and mixed with the blood of her broken maidenhead to ooze down her milky thighs. I exploded into her, spasming into her until I was left spent and lifeless.

As I lay prostrate on Louise's body, thinking with a sort of languid satisfaction of this being the first maidenhead that I had ever had the pleasure of enjoying, saucy Adele considered it an excellent opportunity to ascertain whether or not her suspicions as to my sex were correct. Accordingly, she commenced pulling my rump about in a most indecent manner, and very soon confirmed that my balls at any rate were fixtures.

“And I have no doubt,” she said, addressing Emilie, “that the prick is equally genuine, as we shall find out when this young gentleman condescends to draw his sword out of the scabbard. Indeed, Emilie, I think we should pull him off that exhausted girl, both for her sake and ours. Suppose someone were to come in? Indeed, I'm surprised Sister Agnes has not been here long ago. She generally manages to intrude herself when any romping or fun is going on and either reports us for improper behavior or casts a chill over us by her prudish language and manners.”

“Well,” replied Emilie, “I not only expect her, but hope she will come in presently, but not quite yet. So I quite agree with you that we had better get our performers into a more decorous position, get their dresses and hair into something like order, and give them some refreshment. I dare say the gentleman wants it as well as the lady.”

“Pray, Mademoiselle Emilie, when and how did you come to know the sex of this handsome young fellow?” asked Adele. “Was it revealed to you in a dream? A wet dream? Or did he himself reveal the fact to you in your waking moments when you had your petticoats up and your legs open? I don't know where of course, but perhaps in the corridor, or in the water closet, or in your own bedroom? There now, you're blushing. I declare I thought you had forgotten how to do so.”

Emilie replied, laughing, “Never you mind, saucy girl, how I acquired my knowledge. But please, when Agnes makes her appearance, follow my lead, and back up what you see me and the so-called Mademoiselle d'Ermonville proposing, talking about, or doing with regard to her. Now let's give these used up turtledoves a glass of wine.”

While they were conversing together, they had managed to get our dresses into something like order. We had hardly finished our refreshment when Sister Agnes entered and was received by the young ladies politely and kindly, if not affectionately.

I was duly and formally introduced as Mademoiselle d'Ermonville, and she immediately said, “Oh yes, I know! I had the honor of making the acquaintance of your mother, Mademoiselle. She is walking in the garden with Father Eustace. It shows a blessed disposition on her part to choose the society of the virtuous and good!”

Here Emilie began to cough, and I – to conceal my laughter – began to beg Sister Agnes to join me in taking a glass of wine. She replied that it was not her custom before noon, but she would break her rules in order to welcome a stranger so estimable as Mademoiselle d'Ermonville. All this was very pleasant and decorous, and while it passed, I had leisure to form my ideas of Sister Agnes as far as her outward appearance went.

She was tall, well shaped and decidedly good looking, but neither her face nor her figure had that healthy plumpness of contour, which is one of the most attractive features of girlhood, and she was little more than a girl. Her face, too, was pale, though not unhealthily so. Altogether, I felt convinced that common report was right, and that Sister Agnes kept the vigils and fasts as prescribed by the church with the greatest strictness… too strictly perhaps for her health. Of course the natural result of such asceticism was that her temper was slightly soured, and that she looked with an angry eye on the rompings, playfulness, and other less pardonable amusements occasionally indulged in by the novices and the younger members of the sisterhood. Of this peculiarity, the astute Emilie took advantage, as will be shortly narrated, to raise Agnes' anger to the desired point of her taking both Emilie and myself into the dreaded presence of the Lady Abbess of St. Claire.

Anonymous

The Nunnery Tales