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

Chapter Five

“Tell me, sister Emilie, how have you been entertaining our guest?” asked Agnes after a short time.

“She has been entertaining us,” was Emilie's reply. “She has been telling us about the young ladies, and the handsome men, and the imprisonments, and the executions, and the processions in the streets. They must be extraordinary, with handsome women completely naked, representing Goddesses of Reason, or something or other and all sorts of wonderful things.”

“All most blasphemous and indecent,” interposed Sister Agnes angrily. “I wonder that Mademoiselle d'Ermonville could not find more profitable subjects to talk about.”

“Oh, let me assure you sister Agnes,” said I, “I have been endeavoring to persuade these young ladies that in all my experience of the Court as it used to be, or of the present altered state of society, I have never met three such lovely girls as I have seen since I have visited the convent of St. Claire. And now indeed,” said I looking at Agnes, “I may say four and not three.”

“Your compliments are quite thrown away upon me, Mademoiselle,” she gravely replied, “and I think you might be better employed than in turning the heads of these giddy girls with flattery and nonsense.”

“Their heads, my dear Mademoiselle Agnes…” I said, ”…bless your innocence, I've been looking at these legs as well! These three beauties had some dispute as to who of the three had the prettiest legs, and I have had some difficulty in deciding; perhaps you will assist me?”

At this indelicate proposal, Agnes seemed struck dumb with horror, but on my giving a signal to Emilie and Adele, they took the hint immediately and Louise followed their example, though with some hesitation. Each of them placed one of their little feet upon the divan that had just served as the altar for Louise's sacrifice; drawing up their petticoats, they displayed their graceful legs. On these proceedings, Agnes looked with a tremendous frown.

I suppose she thought that any interference on her part was useless, and was concocting an accusation to lay before the Superior. In the most impudent way, I called her attention to the pretty show, remarking, “You see? It is not very easy to form a judgment or to give a preference where all three are so nearly perfect in their own particular way. Emilie's legs are the largest and show the most muscular development, while Louise's are very delicate and graceful. On the other hand, Adele, proud of her white thighs, has exhibited very good taste in wearing red silk stockings. The contrast between scarlet and white is very striking; indeed, it is a pity that we have not two or three fine young gentlemen here to appreciate it!”

While I was making these impudent remarks, I kept handling the limbs submitted for my inspection in the most indecorous way. I didn't merely stroke the legs but proceeded well up the thick part of each girl's thighs. And because Adele was the only one of the three whom I had not fucked that morning, curiosity induced me to feel what sort of furry treasure she concealed. I did so, and gave her cunt a good rummaging with my forefinger, at which she giggled with delight.

At all this, Agnes purpled and became very angry, chiefly towards Emilie, who she said had been long enough in the convent to know that such indecencies were not permitted. She added that she would report us all to the Superior, so that the novices might be severely punished, and I might be sent away to carry my lascivious worldly practices elsewhere.

All this tended towards the object that Emilie and I had in view; but she, who was a devil for mischief, resolved to bring matters to a climax.

“Oh, Sister Agnes,” she said, “you can't be so cruel. The fact is, Mademoiselle Augustine has the best shape of any girl in the nunnery, and is quite vexed when she hears anyone else praised. You have no idea what fine legs and thighs she has, and she is as proud of them notwithstanding her prudery as a young married lady is of a big belly.”

“Talk of Adele's scarlet silks indeed! Why, Sister Agnes wears the finest black silk for the same purpose I suppose… to contrast with the whiteness of her thighs. Nobody ever sees them though, except by accident, but since we have a stranger among us who ought to see all the curiosities and ornaments of the convent, I've no doubt but that she'll show them!”

To this Agnes returned an indignant rejoinder, but in spite of her denial and her sanctity, I could not help think that there was something in her manner which betrayed that she was not altogether insensible to Emilie's flattery.

Emilie approached Agnes, saying, “Don't be vexed with my nonsense, Sister Agnes, but let Mademoiselle Augustine have one peep at your beautiful limbs!” She threw her arms around her (clasping her so tight that Agnes was nearly helpless), and exclaimed, “Now Augustine, if you can't see what you want, you must be a softy!” I took the hint at once and lifted up Agnes' clothes roughly enough, I dare say, and found everything there just as Emilie had described it.

Now that I have time for reflection, I cannot help thinking what an amount of vanity and flirtatiousness may exist under a prudish exterior. If nobody was intended to see Agnes' legs, why did she dress them in the finest silk stockings, handsomely gartered half way up to her thighs?

Well, I saw them at any rate, and so did Adele and Louise, who were in raptures at my taking indecent liberties with one whom they had been in the habit of regarding as rather tyrannical in her notions of strictness. Their laughing remarks encouraged me to proceed further, and I began to pull Agnes' thighs open and kiss her cunt. Her fair white bottom also came in for its due share of my lascivious attention. In fact, the prudent and sanctified Sister Agnes was very near to being fucked, when the door opened. The lay sister, whom I had found in the room when I had first come into it with Emilie, reentered to the great annoyance of all of us, except Agnes, who, addressing her as Sister Marie, demanded her immediate assistance in conveying Emilie and myself before the Superior to be punished for indecent and improper practices. The elderly sister assented, but I thought it right to stand upon my dignity, and told Agnes that I would be happy to accompany her into the presence of my aunt, but I would dispense with the company of the elderly Sister Marie. I requested Marie to leave the apartments, which she, awed I suppose by the magical name of my aunt, forthwith did. I turned around to Agnes and remarked with grave politeness, “Now, fair Sister, if you have any communications to make to the Lady Superior, and if my presence and that of our friend Emilie can be of service to you, we shall be happy to accompany you.” This was taking the matter coolly and Agnes stared as if she hardly knew what to make of my assurance. But she had no choice; it was her own proposal to go to my aunt, and she could not shrink from it simply because we consented to accompany her. So she led the way. Emilie and I followed, laughing in our sleeves at the notion of the trap she was falling into.

We were duly ushered into my aunt's presence. She received all of us very graciously, saying, “Well, children, I hope you have been amusing yourselves. I like my young friends to enjoy themselves in any way consistent with propriety.”

“I am sorry to have to say, Lady Mother,” interrupted Agnes, “that I fear these two young ladies have not been amusing themselves with propriety.”

“Indeed!” replied Lady Agatha, as if surprised. “Not Sister Emilie and my niece! Explain yourself, my daughter.”

“I have merely to say,” replied Agnes, “that your niece was examining the legs of Emilie, Adele and Louise, by way of deciding their rival claims to superiority.”

“Well, well,” said my aunt, “if that is true, there is no great harm in it! Young girls will be playful.”

“Playful, Lady Agatha!” exclaimed Agnes. “Why, your niece forgot ladylike propriety so far as to put her hands right up the young ladies' underclothes. I have no doubt she felt the lower part of their bodies. Indeed, I am almost ashamed to say such a thing, but from Adele's exclamations and wrigglings about, I have no doubt Mademoiselle had managed to insert her finger in her private parts.”

“Shocking! I can hardly believe it,” said my aunt. “Is that all you have to tell me?”

“Well, my Lady,” said Agnes, “I should think that was enough. I don't wish to mention the indignities offered to myself.”

“Proceed with your story, my daughter,” said my aunt rather coldly. I could hardly help laughing, for I could plainly see that she was preparing in her mind to disbelieve the whole accusation.

Sister Agnes continued, “After my remonstrating with them to which they did not pay any attention, Emilie was wicked enough to fling her arms around me so as to render me helpless, and then your niece dragged up my clothes in the rudest and most violent manner. She then proceeded to violate the sanctity of my cunt and bottom. Indeed, it seems a most extraordinary thing to say, but I felt as I suppose a girl must when she is being outraged by a young man. I could hardly conceive myself to be under the hands of a young lady!”

At this, Emilie could not contain herself any longer and burst into laughter! But she was immediately checked by my aunt, who preserved a face of laudable gravity, while she asked, “Did she hurt you, Sister Agnes?”

“Very much indeed,” replied she, rather disposed to exaggerate her injuries.

“And what have you to say to this, young ladies?” said my aunt, addressing Emilie and me.

Of course, I denied the whole affair from beginning to end, and Emilie went further and asserted that Agnes had asked her to try and inveigle me into her chamber so that we three might have an indecent romp together.

At this brazen assertion, Agnes held up her hands, calling upon the Virgin, blessed St. Claire and the Lord only knows how many angels to testify to her innocence and the falsehood of Emilie's statement, whereupon the Lady Abbess remarked that she had a difficult task to impose justice on us, for the assertions on both sides were so positive and strong.

“However, Agnes,” she continued, “there is one thing that can be proved. If you have been hurt as you say, you must exhibit some marks of it. I am quite experienced enough to perceive the slightest irritation on such a tender spot. You may depend upon it that if I could find the slightest proof of the truth of your statement, the misbehaviors and falsehood of these girls shall be punished most severely.” This my aunt announced with a most austere air. Then she told Agnes to seat herself on the edge of the bed and prepare for a short examination.

Agnes obeyed at once. We were then requested to place ourselves one on each side, and hold up her legs, while the Lady Abbess investigated the state of her cunt so as to ascertain the truth of her statement.

As may have been anticipated, the Abbess could discover no signs whatever of rough usage. Indeed there were none; for the kissing and very slight fingering which I had administered to the virtuous Agnes had not disordered her pink little mossy nest in the slightest degree.

Lady Agnes, after pulling the taut lips open and peering within, declared her belief that the whole accusation was false, and decreed that Agnes should be punished. So, in spite of her vehement protestations, my aunt handed to Emilie and me a velvet covered strap and buckle, directing each of us to strap one of Agnes' legs under the knee to one of the bedposts. Then the question arose as to the punishment due to a sister nun who had maligned two young ladies and told falsehoods. My aunt pretended to insist upon her being flogged, but I begged for mercy, saying to my aunt that it was a pity such a lovely white rump should be disfigured by the lash. Emilie also suggested something less severe. At last, she appeared to yield to our entreaties, saying that as we were the wronged parties in being improperly accused, we should deal out the punishment. My idea was that, as Agnes had accused me of fingering her, I should take any liberties I liked with her in real earnest. Emilie, by way of furthering my intention, suggested a dildo.

My aunt told us that we might do as we liked with her, while Agnes begged for mercy. I told the poor girl in a half whisper that we were not going to flog her, or even to hurt her, and that if she would have a few minutes patience, we would release her legs from their position, if that was painful to her. By this it is easily comprehended that in two minutes I planned to have my cock into her nearly as high as her kidneys, and that I would just as soon have her fine silk-clad legs doubled across my back, instead of fastened up to the bedposts; but until then, I wasn't going to forego the great advantage I had. For Agnes lay perfectly helpless, with her bottom well lifted up, and her thighs stretched so far apart that her pert little cunt was actually forced open.

All that I needed was a little ointment, with which I moistened her gaping orifice while my kind aunt did the same for my throbbing cock. Emilie employed herself in tying my petticoats up to my armpits with a silk sash. Then I asked my assistants to raise Agnes' head with a pillow, for I like kissing a pretty girl's mouth, particularly during the few last rapturous strokes. Then, while my victim would be so employed, kissing me, I liked to ram my well-oiled prick into her burning parts.

It was to be the second maidenhead that lucky red-domed gentleman had visited that same day!

Also, as the position of her buttocks were extremely favorable, I passed one hand under her rump. I began by fingering the puckered neighboring orifice and obtained a much greater degree of liveliness and elasticity from her wriggling bottom than I otherwise should have enjoyed.

A pretense of piety and a sanctimonious demeanor do not always mean a girl is therefore a virgin; indeed very often when a young lady has allowed her passions to get the better of her, and has parted with her treasure to a forward lover, or has lost it by violence, she pretends to be a prude and puritan. However, this was obviously not the case with Agnes. I felt my probing cock-head encounter her obstruction, but it was hardly a barrier to my ravaging thruster. I reared back slightly at the hips and pushed forward slowly, not wishing to cause Agnes undue pain. As she didn't seem to experience any discomfort, I repeated the motion more forcefully, enjoying the sensation elicited by the passage of my shaft in her smooth canal.

I found my way into Agnes' body after the second or third thrust, and that without eliciting a scream. To my delight, I perceived that whereas dear little Louise felt too much pain to appreciate my thrusts and raptures, or to reciprocate the creamy flood that I injected into her, my present victim, on the contrary, was disposed to do both, as I soon perceived from her gaspings, kissings, and wrigglings. So, I signed to my attendants to unfasten her legs. As I anticipated, she immediately folded them across my naked loins and around my back, lifting her rump clean off the bed. As she did so, she met a tremendous shove of my prick, nearly half way. I was buried to the balls in her flowing cunt, my thick shaft stretching her pussy lips to the utmost.

At length, the mutual loving discharge took place. I deluged the interior of her canal with warm sperm oil that shot from my engorged cock head in milky gouts, while she saturated my noble prick even to the twitching sac and the curly brown hair that covered its roots.

As we lay quiet, face to face, she breathlessly whispered to me, “Oh, how I love you! You are a young man, are you not?”

I smiled assent, then she continued, “If you love me and have found any pleasure in what you have been doing, or value the virginity you have just robbed me of, please set me right with your aunt, and do me the justice to say that I am innocent of what you and Emilie have accused me.”

This I readily promised to do. All this passed unheard by my Lady Abbess, and Sister Emilie, who were amusing themselves by stroking and handling my balls, pumping my flaccid shaft in an attempt to restore it to its firm and proud state, patting and slapping my buttocks, and cramming their fingers up my rump. In fact, although I had done my duty to my aunt the night before, and Emilie's cunt could hardly have been dry since my attack upon her in the morning, they both seemed mad with lust, as if they hadn't been fucked for a fortnight!

I put a stop to their lascivious liberties with my person by raising my body and releasing Agnes, who blushed deeply as she rose, and prepared to adjust her disordered dress.

“Stop a little,” exclaimed Lady Agatha. “Emilie and I will wipe you dry, and make you comfortable.”

“How did you like it? Ha! A little blood I see, not much. That was a fine shove which broke through your maidenhead, was it not?”

Thus laughing and making fun of what to poor Agnes was really a serious transaction, they wiped her pouting cunt lips from which oozed the thick fluid of our passion and made her as comfortable as she could reasonably expect to be.

But when Agnes began to solemnly protest her innocence, and called upon me to confirm it, my aunt cut her short with, “Bah, we know all about it, my dear. It was all a planned thing between me, Emilie, and my nephew here, Monsieur Auguste d'Ermonville, to whom I beg to introduce you, although I think he has managed to introduce himself already and that in a very appropriate manner.”

Again she laughed merrily, then continued. “Mind, Agnes,” she said, “that whatever has taken place in this room is as sacredly secret as if it had never been. You must not even reveal it to your confessor.”

This Agnes cheerfully promised.

“And now,” said my aunt, “as we have pretty well used up our young gentleman between us, and cannot expect more gratification from him, we will amuse ourselves with a glass of champagne and some chocolates and we will exchange some stories to amuse ourselves.”

While she was providing the refreshments, I sat down on the sofa and drew Agnes on my knee. The feel of her bare bottom on my lap sent a tingle of lust and excitement through me.

Thus comfortably situated, I was prepared for anything that was forthcoming in the way of amusements, or story telling, or any other rational or agreeable amusements. Agnes' position seemed to provoke the jealously of both the other ladies, and Emilie said that she thought it was her turn now. My aunt merely said, “Well, Auguste, I suppose your maxim is last come, first served. Anyway, Agnes will not be fit to be fucked again for forty-eight hours, that's one comfort!”

“Nor will Louise, that's another comfort,” exclaimed Emilie, with great satisfaction.

“What? Two maidenheads in the course of one morning?” laughed my aunt. “Upon my word, my dear nephew, you are playing the bull among my young heifers! Call in Adele and Louise, my dear Emilie. The latter must want some refreshment; and if the former wants anything else, I'll call in Father Eustace. Or if, as is likely enough, he is worn out with his attentions to my sister, Adele must be satisfied with a dildo!”

Upon this, the four girls cast lots, and the lot fell upon Louise, the youngest, and most inexperienced of the four.

She began by saying that she feared that she would be unable to amuse us, that she really was perfectly ignorant of everything. But on being cross-examined by my sagacious aunt, she confessed to having seen something of which she could tell, though she could hardly call it amusing.

“Leave us be the judge of that,” said the Abbess. “Tell us all about it.”

Louise proceeded thus: “About two years ago on the death of my mamma, my father sent me into the country to visit his mother, a venerable lady who lived in great seclusion. He thought that the change of air and scene would be beneficial to me. Accordingly, accompanied by my own governess – a handsome but very strict middle-aged lady of thirty – I duly made my appearance at the chateau of Madame de Fleury. I was most kindly received by her, but my pleasure was somewhat damped when I noticed her nephew – a most extraordinary man of deficient mental capabilities who was in appearance much like an ape. He was short and heavily built; his brow was almost like a gorilla; and he was covered with thick, coarse hair. What's more, he never spoke, but communicated with bestial grunts and groans. She assured me that he was perfectly tame and quite harmless, and that I must learn to be familiar with him, as he had been for many years the only companion and amusement of a lonely old woman. So I did my best to get rid of my fears; indeed Sylvian – for that was his name – was the only object of which I had any reasonable dread, and that I got over with the assistance of my strong-minded governess who did not seem to have any dread of him at all, but rather seemed to like him. She was so fond, she said, of studying human nature, so similar to that of the beast. Now I knew nothing of nature, much less of wickedness, but at least even I in my ignorance began to think it rather extraordinary that this ape-like man should begin to follow Madam Herbelot around the house and grounds, instead of remaining with his mistress, as was his former custom.

“At first I fancied that it was only on account of the delicacies and sweets that she used to feed him. But I soon observed certain peculiarities. I noticed that when my governess, Madam Herbelot came into the room, and particularly if she approached him, a huge bulge would appear in the front of poor Sylvian's trousers.

“But never mind that! While Madame de Fleury was in the room, my governess pretended never to show any interest in Mr. Chimpanzee, as I called him, whether he exhibited any animal propensities or not. But one day even my Grandmother, who was partially blind, could not help noticing the state of lust the poor fellow had worked himself into, and she remarked to my governess, 'It is a pity that I cannot get a female companion for poor Sylvian. The dear creature is wearing himself out.' I may remark here that neither my relative or my governess were aware of my presence in the room, for I sat in an embrasure shrouded by the curtain, out of which, as I peeped, I beheld this ugly caricature of a man, grasping what I suppose I must call his cock, through his very trousers with one hand while he worked it quickly up and down. At this sight, my grandmother looked with something like sorrow and pity. Madam Herbelot observed it with interest and curiosity. 'It was a great pity,' continued my grandmother in a musing tone, as she looked at the man-beast who had now concluded his performance. 'If he goes on frigging himself in this way, he'll kill himself.' She wondered if she could find a peasant girl who for a crown or two would let him do what he liked with her.

“'Would not that get her large with an idiot-child, my dear Madame de Fleury?' inquired my governess.

“'It needn't do anything of the sort,' replied my grandmother dictatorially. 'If such should be the case, I should take care of the progeny, but it need not be so; for if she kneels down on all fours with her rump uppermost, there is no fear of his producing any result upon her; or indeed for that matter, he might fancy shoving his cock into her rumphole itself, perhaps better than the other orifice: it would be much the same to her, and anything to please him, poor fellow!'

I wondered considerably at the interest exhibited by my aged relative for this hideous creature; but I suppose people with little family, and rarely seeing their friends or acquaintances, must fix their affections on something. It seemed, though, that my Grandma's remarks had made considerable impression upon the mind of my governess. One strange circumstance I must mention: Sylvian was locked in at night to prevent his wandering around the house; his apartment, I dared not call it a den, was situated close to Madame's sitting room.

“Entering early one morning to get a book which I had left there on the previous evening, I heard Sylvian grunting as if much excited. On my peeping slightly to see what was the matter, I saw my respected governess holding up her petticoats with her left hand, so as to display her thighs, her belly, her cunt, and all in fact that I had always been taught that a woman should keep concealed. With her right hand she grasped Sylvian's huge stiff red rod and worked it up and down until I thought the man would go mad with his unquenched lust and inability to get at what he wanted, which was of course her private parts displayed purposely to excite him. However, this kind of thing could not last long, and in a minute or two, some milky fluid jerked out of his cock so far as to fall in one of Madame's slippers as she stood close opposite to him. Then the brute sank down on the floor, and I made a hasty and noiseless retreat, not wishing to disturb my governess in her studies of biology. But it seemed that two days afterwards, she was pursuing these studies with unabated vigor, for as I was out in the garden reading in one of the numerous arbors, my chambermaid Annette, who hated Madame Herbelot, called to me in a whisper, 'Mademoiselle,' and beckoned me to follow her. This I did with some curiosity.

“She led the way to a secluded part of the garden where there was also an arbor such as I had left, but overgrown and neglected. Arriving here, Annette put her finger to her lips and peeped through the mass of foliage. I cautiously followed her example, and soon observed my mistress, the discreet Madam Herbelot, on her hands and knees like some four-footed animal, sticking out her posteriors for the benefit of Monsieur Sylvian, who was certainly availing himself of his position with all the delight and enjoyment that his beastly ingenuity could devise. One thing Annette and I both noticed, that perhaps on account of the conversation which I had overheard between my grandmother and my governess, the latter had prudence enough even in the height of her unnatural lust to take some precautions. Or maybe it was that the man-beast himself preferred that mode of operation – either are likely – at any rate, one thing is certain. He had his cock shoved up my governess' rumphole as far as he could go, and actually repeated his performance twice while we were looking at them. At last, he withdrew his dripping pole, and Annette and I retired. She whispered to me, 'She won't be able to walk tomorrow, Miss, but she shall ride, for I'll tell Madam de Fleury and get her sent home.' And to make an end of my long story, so she did.”

Anonymous

The Nunnery Tales