by Celia Strapp
I could feel the flesh of my bottom swelling and reddening with each slap as the Prior taught me his lesson, and I felt that maybe, just maybe, I was feeling some of that rebelliousness beginning to seep out of me. Each slap had started to make my pussy began to beat with pleasure, with anticipation. I knew he was looking at me there, because with each strike now he was pinching my buttocks and pushing them up so that he could see that secret little place. I knew that I had started to glisten for him.
‘Oh look,’ he said, ‘it seems like someone’s little sex is positively glowing with all this attention.’ I felt his fingers walking their way back along my rump and settle on the inside of my thighs. ‘I suppose for a bad girl like you, getting smacked on the behind must have made you wet with lust.’ His strong fingers started to slowly stroke the lips of my rose, smoothly stroking my sweet little organ, causing even more nectar to spill from inside me, as I became entirely consumed with a burning passion.
‘Yes, Prior,’ I whispered, completely beside myself with lust. What was happening to me? How had I managed to abandon my morals so very quickly? Why was I letting this brute treat me like this? I could still feel the sting from his hand on my behind, and the memory of the pain mixed with the utter pleasure his hands began to gave me. His finger was the first part of anyone save me to enter the space between my legs, and his hooked, probing fingers discovered for the first time how soft it was inside me, how hot and how quivering my pussy was. He began to slide his thick, wide-knuckled digits into me while making little deep groaning sounds. I could feel my wetness starting to coat his hands, as he plunged a second finger into me.
‘What a tight little kitty,’ he murmured to himself, as he started to push harder, deeper into me. My body began twitching as he explored me, and with each confident pound of his fingers, I gave myself more and more to him, to his mastery, to his power, to his perversion. I now imagined him striking my behind again and again as his fingers stretched my flesh, then, suddenly, he moved his other hand to a space just above my opening, to what now felt the centre of my sexual power, and he began to wetly slide his fingers over a hard nub of flesh there. The pleasure, the surprise of it, was like flowers opening at the speed of light in my mind. I felt streaks of hot joy spread instantly over my body and then, black spots appeared in my vision as I began to buckle on top of him, and finally, without thinking, my mouth made a word that I’d never said before, and I exploded with pleasure, as my entire body stiffened and relaxed.
‘Fuck,’ I gasped, my body collapsing over him.
‘Careful,’ said the Prior. ‘Or I’ll need to spank you again, with language like that.’
I could not help but smile at the thought of that, but my pleasure was quickly interrupted by the feeling of something cold and smooth, parting the lips of my pussy and pressing up inside me.
‘I’m inserting a pair of rosary beads into you now, my dear, blessed by the Abbot himself, that old lech,’ said the Prior, gently pushing the smooth, round objects into my moist, sensitive passage.
‘You have been such a good girl for me, taking my punishment like you did, that I want to give you a reward. You shall walk around the Abbey wearing your lace nightdress, with these rosaries jiggling around inside your little quim, giving you pleasure, so that tonight, when it is time for me to take you, to make you mine, you will be very wet for me indeed.’
The Prior lifted me by the waist, and placed me on my unsteady feet, and I felt the beads jiggle around inside me, my little pussy muscles clenching around them. Did the Prior do this to all of the servants? Did he corrupt them all in this perverse way?
‘Ah yes,’ said the Prior, watching my expression change as I felt the beads moving around inside me. ‘You’ll find yourself… how shall I put this… tensing up a little as the beads knock back and forth in your sweet little kitty. If we leave them in for several hours, it will make you all the tighter, and all the sweeter, when I finally enter you tonight.’
With that, he spun around and existed my room, leaving me standing there, trembling, the moisture dripping down between my naked legs.
‘Oh, just one more thing,’ said the Prior, putting his head around the door for a moment. ‘Don’t even think about putting any more clothes back on now. Not even your undergarments. I want all the other monks’ eyes on you, all day, as you work in the house. I want them to know what a ravishing little beauty I have here in my service, and what a lucky man I am, that I get to fuck her tonight. I want them all to think about what it might be like to touch you, to ravish you, I want them to abandon innocence, just as I have, because of your flesh. Goodbye, my dear.’
I felt the beads quiver in my kitty as the Prior slammed the door shut, and I almost dropped to my feet that second, desperate to touch myself and add to the burning pleasure that was already building back up inside me, but I knew that there were potatoes to peel, and I had no choice but to do as my Master had said, and go out there and peel them.
Chapter 11
In the kitchen, I found myself moving more slowly than usual at first, as every movement caused a vibration in my pussy, making me gasp with erotic lust, arching my back in sheer pleasure as I peeled the potatoes. The cook shook her head at me in disdain, but friar Rory’s eyes looked fit to pop out of his head.
‘Can I do anything to help you, Verity?’ he asked, lingering beside me, but the cook was quick to snap at him. ‘Get out of here , boy,’ she said. ‘You’re slowing her down. Verity. Chop them spuds at double-speed, would you? And then go and fetch me some hot water.’
I bit my lip as I began to move faster, the beads jiggling faster than ever, building me up to some terrible climax, so that I was barely able to stand up any longer as I worked. When I finished the potatoes, I walked quickly along the floor to go and fetch the hot water, but had to stop halfway, grabbing on to the windowsill, my knees weak as I felt myself about to come. Were the servants used to seeing the young sisters abused like this?
‘I’m sorry, cook!’ I cried, my legs giving way, my lips trembling. I let out an almighty moan and succumbed to the power of my orgasm, the juice running quickly down the insides of my thighs, clear and wet, like drool. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I panted, managing to walk again, hurrying to get the hot water, but already feeling another climax creeping up on me.
‘Oh, I can’t work like this!’ I cried.
‘What’s wrong with you, you little hussy?’ the cook cried. ‘First you come in here wearing the most brazen little prostitute’s outfit I’ve ever seen. Then you start moaning and groaning and falling all over my floor as you work!’ She shook her head. ‘Dear me, the young ‘uns of today.’
‘I’m sorry!’ I cried, running out of the kitchen, holding on to the bannister as I rushed up the stairs, desperately looking for the Prior, to ask him if he might take pity on me and let me release the rosary beads a little early. I had become a huge tangle of lust since he had put them into me, like a was a machine with only one object: to satisfy myself, over and over again, and I couldn’t take it any more. I was like an animal on heat. I was a disgrace.
A group of monks walked past me, in utter shock. I saw their eyes sweeping over me, and they made the sign of the cross as they settled their gaze on the little trail of rosaries, covered in my juice, which peeped out of my hungry, sinful slit.
I ran up another flight of stairs, crying out at the pleasure the beads were giving me, and I was so distracted by lust that I burst right into the Prior’s enormous chamber, catching him lying on his four-poster bed, completely stark naked, with a huge, almighty staff of flesh sticking right up between his legs, and one of his hands placed around it, gripping it firmly as he tugged at it.
‘Oh, I’m sorry sir!’ I cried, trying to turn around again, to get out.
‘Come back,’ the Prior growled urgently, and I turned back to look at him. His body was so tight and muscular. He had the most perfect pectoral muscles and the hardest-looking abdomen I had ever seen. Granted,
I had only ever seen the servant boys half-naked, washing themselves in the old tin bath in the cellar once a month in the evenings, but still. This man was a god in comparison to those boys.
The Prior got off the bed and stood up to face me, his great staff of flesh sticking right up, on end, as if standing to attention. I noticed that the end of it was a slightly darker colour, and a little fleshier than the rest, and I wondered what it might feel like to insert something so big and strong inside my moist little kitty…
‘I see you could not wait for me,’ said the Prior, smiling. ‘Well, as you can see, our encounter this morning has rather excited me too.’ He looked down at his fleshy rod, and took hold of it, stroking it slowly as he continued to speak to me. ‘I had hoped we could do this romantically,’ he said. ‘I could have lit some candles, prepared a bath for you, tied you down nice and securely and fucked you as hard as I could while you begged for my mercy…’ He grinned. ‘But I can’t wait for all that now,’ he said. ‘I have needs. I need to spill my seed into you, Verity, and I need to do it this minute.’
He stepped forwards, grabbing me in his huge arms, and pushed me down to the floor, so that I was kneeling in front of his bed. Then, he pushed my face down onto his mattress, and lifted my rump up onto the bed, taking my hips in his hands and placing me on the mattress on all fours now, and he climbed over me. ‘I’m only ever going to fuck you once as your fiancé, Verity,’ he said firmly. ‘After this, every time I fuck you it will be as your husband. Do you understand?’
Weakly, filled with lust and desire, desperate for his fleshy staff to pierce my kitty and make me his, I nodded.
‘But until you are my wife,’ he said, ‘you are merely my plaything, and that is how I shall treat you as I fuck you now.’
‘Yes, my lord,’ I said obediently, my rump in the air, my legs parting slightly, willing him to touch my sex.
‘Good,’ said the Prior. ‘Then I shall make you mine.’ Swiftly, I felt him pull the glass beads out of my cunt, making me gasp with shock as the cool air passed over my empty entrance, and then, suddenly, my entrance was filled with something else.
‘This is my cock, Verity,’ he whispered into my ear. I felt the smooth tip of his cock push my soaking wet pussy lips apart tenderly, resisting slightly. And then, after a small bump of tension, and a little, tight pain, he was all the way inside me. I was totally full of him and it felt incredible. Then, smoothly, expertly, he began to move inside me.
It was such pleasure, such unbelievable, powerful, bone-juddering pleasure. The little, tight muscles inside my slit gripped so hard, trying to keep him inside the whole time, begging him, with their grip, not to pull out. I felt like all that time spent with the beads inside me had made my muscles naturally tense, and from the way the Prior was growing it seemed that he was enjoying the tightness of my passage very much.
He pushed harder. It felt like his whole body was a muscle, was a cock, getting exactly what it wanted from me, from my womanly form. His hands were everywhere. In my mouth, on my breasts, stroking my naked left nipple, poking erect out from the torn fabric. He was holding me tight, pressing me down to the bed as he fucked me, made me his.
‘I’m yours, Prior,’ I moaned. ‘Do what you want with me.’
I felt him shudder as I said this, and he pumped harder. He was so strong, moving me exactly as he wanted, and what he wanted was to get himself as deep into me, as much as he could. He began to get faster and faster and then, with a moan, he grabbed me and turned me so I was on my back. He took hold of my hips and lifted them up.
This time, when his cock slipped effortlessly into me, it felt even bigger. It was touching some other part of me and he just pushed more and more. It felt even better than before but totally different, as though he knew, just knew that this is what I’d wanted all along.
As he fucked me, I felt something different now. I felt the cold glass beads, which were soaked in my pussy juices, pressing against a new entrance. It was the tight little rosebud of my asshole. ‘Sir!’ I shouted, but my protestation simply made him even keener to stick the beads inside me, and with one swift movement, at the same time his cock plunged deep within me, the Prior pushed the beads right up my back passage, making me ache with joy. He moved harder and harder, moaning, groaning, straining to get in and out of me and with every movement of his cock, I felt an equal movement in my backside, like I was being massaged in two different places, giving me twice as much pleasure, making me shout out twice as loud. I could feel my cheeks burning red, and then pleasure building up inside me, burning deep within my kitty, so that I was almost on the point of climaxing, when suddenly I felt this incredible build up of tension in the Prior’s cock. It seemed to pulse with a liquid, throbbing energy. He was spilling his seed into me!
The thought of this powerful man throbbing inside me drove me over the edge. In a fog of lust and passion, I reached my hand in between my legs and started to rub my nub soft then hard and, as he continued to burst inside me, I felt my own climax building inside. I screamed loud and said his name over and over as my body tensed and tightened. My pussy pulsed in time with the last few spurts of semen from his cock, and, just as my orgasm reached its strongest climax, the Prior pulled the beads out from my anus, causing me to scream in ecstasy as the wave of powerful vibrations moved over me. It was like my whole body was juddering with joy.
‘Fuck!’ I shouted. ‘Oh, fuck!’
The Prior smiled, looking down at me proudly. ‘You know what?’ he said, panting, his cock still hard and spilling a little seed onto my stomach. ‘I think you can still be my plaything, even when you are my wife.’
‘Yes please, my husband,’ I said, exhausted and sweaty. ‘I think I would like to always be your plaything.’
The Prior reached down and kissed me full on the mouth, and I tasted the sweet, salty richness of his desire on his lips, learning, finally, what it meant to become a woman, and knowing, deep down, that I was very much going to enjoy married life. I was no longer a woman of the Lord, I belonged to the Prior, and to no one else. I wanted his seed in me. And I was going to be the most obedient wife in the world. Most of the time…
PART THREE
PRAYING FOR THE DUKE'S MERCY
Chapter 12
When my parents gave me the name Sapphire, I think they always hoped I would turned out to be their little jewel.
‘She’s sparkling,’ my mother would say, looking at me lovingly, wiping the blonde curls back from my face. ‘You’re my special gem, aren’t you, Sapphire?’
I was a very good child. Obedient and well-behaved, always keen to impress my parents and make them proud. My father was a tailor, and my mother was a fastidious housekeeper, and though we had little money, our life was always one of balance, happiness and tranquility. And I truly believe, if things had not changed for us so suddenly, if our fortunes had not taken a downward spiral due to a wicked twist of fate, we might have stayed that way forever.
But alas, on my eighteenth birthday, life suddenly became very different. We were sitting around the dining table one evening, enjoying a rare dish of stew, containing our weekly ration of meat, which my father worked so hard to provide for us, when there was a rap at the door.
At first, we presumed it had been the wind, knocking a branch against the door, for nobody ever appeared at our humble little abode in the evenings. We never had visitors, and I think we preferred it that way. As I have said, our life was peaceful and calm, and visitors normally spelled trouble.
Eventually, after excusing himself, my father got up from the table. I remember seeing him wipe a small morsel of stew from the right corner of his mouth, and then he laid down the napkin on the table, to the right of his plate, and then off he went. I remember these details to thoroughly, dear reader, because that was the last image I ever saw of my father.
I heard him opening the door, and then I heard muffled voices, and something of an argument, though I could not make out the
words. My mother’s face become pale and trembled, and I noticed a thin layer of sweat appear upon her brow. We must have waited this way, frozen at the table, listening to the skirmish outside, for some ten or twenty minutes or so, and then eventually… everything fell silent.
Slowly, my mother stood up from the table, instructing me to stay where I was, and then she walked out of the room, towards the front door. And that’s when I heard her scream.
‘He’s dead!’ she cried. ‘Those brutes! Your father is dead!’
I ran over to her, and saw my father, a limp and bloody mess on the floor, and I vowed to somehow avenge the death of my poor beloved father. But avenge it, I never quite did. Not exactly.
Chapter 13
It turned out, dear reader, that my poor father had not been quite the innocent, unsuspecting party as I had at first imagined. In fact, my beloved father had somehow managed to ‘steal’ my mother’s affection from a stern and wealthy Duke, in the year before I was born.
My mother had worked for the Duke as a servant girl, and the Duke had made it clear he had intentions to marry her. My father, however, working as a tailor’s apprentice, had one day accompanied his master to the Duke’s manor, where the Duke was to be fitted out in a new riding suit. My father, the young tailor’s apprentice, had seen my mother, taken a shine to her, and convinced her, through the use of alcohol, blackmail and bribery, to leave her place at the manor and run away with him to the neighbouring village.