Princess to Pleasure Slave 25: Insidious Imp Edition

by Amanda Clover

  Strangely, the old man had kept to the rest of the deal. The ancient book sat atop Meryiana's One Hundred Teachings. Her water skin had even been refilled, as if Axuris felt guilty about what he had done.

  Sister Ioana was sore between her legs as she limped back to the abbey. Darkness fell, but the night was clear and the moon was full. The Abbey was silhouetted by moonlight, the chapels stained glass windows glowing from within and the smaller windows of the convent showing candlelight.

  "Someone approaches!" Called the sister on watch.

  "It is Sister Ioana," croaked Ioana. Sisters Velina and Brookwen hurried out from the gate and helped to support her.

  "It is a relief to have you back," said Velina.

  Brookwen, never friendly with Ioana, was less sanguine. "Sister Superior will paddle your bottom raw for throwing the abbey into chaos! You had better come up with a good excuse for why you are hours late from your walk."

  They marched Ioana into Sister Superior's office above the chapel and went to fetch her from the garden. Ioana squirmed uncomfortably, her sunburn itching and her quim a bit raw from whatever Axuris had done to her. She slipped the Kornasi book into her boots as she awaited Sister Superior and the inevitable punishment she would bring.

  The door opened and the proud matriarch of the abbey strode purposefully to her writing desk. She lit a candle and held it up to Ioana's face.

  "No, your throat is not cut by bandits. I see your head is not bashed in by hobgoblins, as I surely suspected after you missed evening lessons and supper. My first question simply is 'Why?'" Agatha leaned closer and said in a cold voice, "Be careful how you answer."

  "Because I am a foolish girl," said Ioana.

  "Mmmm, the one matter we find agreement upon," said Agatha, standing up straight. "Go on. Why were you a fool?"

  "I had my feelings hurt by what you said," admitted Ioana. "About me thinking I was better than everyone. I went and had... had a good cry. And I laid down upon a rock feeling very sorry for myself. The sun must have got to me. I fell asleep and when I awoke it was nearly dark."

  Agatha stood silently with her arms folded for a very long time. She finally said, "I believe you, Ioana. You are not clever enough to be lying to me. I had planned on sending you to the stocks in the garden for the night and making you suffer the pear for the week. But I see you are too soft for such discipline. You would break."

  "Yes, Sister Superior," said Ioana. She bowed her head to hide her smile at being released without punishment. Her happiness was premature.

  "However, after the uproar you caused so selfishly today, I think a lashing is in order. Go to my cabinet and fetch my scratch-whip."

  "A w-whip?" Ioana knew of Sister Superior Agatha's legendary collection of torture devices. She paddled most girls in need of discipline.

  "Fetch it now or I will go and get the nine-tailed lash myself," growled Agatha.

  Ioana rose quickly from the chair and walked over to the gilded cabinet. It was padded with red velvet cushions inside and each torture implement was supported by cast iron hooks. She saw the often-used paddle with its wood well-polished upon the bottoms of a thousand unfortunate sisters. There were several polished brass items that resembled pears of various sizes, whips, and even a chain flail with silver barbs. Ioana saw the scratch-whip with its heavy rope lash and its loose fibers. She took a deep breath and grasped the leather-wrapped handle.

  "Bring it hear," said Agatha with an impatient stomp of her foot. "Lift up your habit and bend over my desk. Your slips as well. I will take this punishment on your bare flesh."

  Ioana reluctantly gathered up the hem of her habit and slip, hoping that Sister Superior Agatha would not notice that she wore only one garment beneath her habit. She raised the fabric up over her shapely thighs and revealed her naked flesh to Agatha. The Sister Superior murmured at the sight.

  "Bend over the desk," she snapped.

  Ioana leaned over the low writing desk, her heart-shaped bottom raised high behind her. Agatha roughly grabbed hold of the back of Ioana's habit and lifted it up above the young nun's buttocks.

  "Already scratched? Your womanhood swollen! What were you doing out there on your walk?"

  "N-nothing, Sister Superior, I only fell asleep and-- AH!" Ioana cried out as the first lash struck her buttocks. She jerked her head up and tears stung her eyes.

  "Do not lie to me!" Snarled Agatha. "What did you do to your body!"

  "I... didn't... AHHH!" Another stinging lash of the whip crossed Ioana's buttocks. Another and another, each like a slice into her flesh that left burning lines across her quivering, round cheeks. "Please, Sister Superior... I... AHHH! I touched myself! I confess!"

  "Yes, I thought as much," said Agatha and she cracked the lash across the backs of Ioana's thighs and the other lips of her pussy. The blow was excruciatingly painful. Ioana sobbed and nearly fell to her knees. "It should have been the stocks and the pear for you."

  "NnnaaaaahhhHHH! Noooo! Please!" The small office reverberated with the sharp crack of the whip over and over again. The searing pain of the lash reached from just above Ioana's knees all the way up to her back above her buttocks. She sobbed and whimpered, but nothing she said seemed to lessen the fury of Sister Superior Agatha.

  The Sister Superior stopped abruptly, out of breath and panting from the frenzied attack on Ioana's pale bottom, now red and crisscrossed with welts. Tears dropped steadily from the young woman's eyes and her whole body trembled with the pain that throbbed in her flesh even after Agatha had stopped.

  "You will be confined to your quarters tomorrow," said Agatha, catching her breath and drawing herself up straight behind Ioana. "I will plan penance for you to perform once you are released."

  "Th-thank you, Sister Superior," moaned Ioana, her dress falling back down over her agonized flesh. Sisters Velina and Brookwen helped Ioana to her room and locked the door from the outside. She curled into her narrow bed and slipped the book out of her boot to hold it against her chest.

  Sister Ioana was keenly aware that Meryiana had done nothing to intervene on her behalf today. The goddess had not protected her from Axuris, nor had the goddess lessened the cruelty of the sister superior. The once-princess clutched the book tighter against her chest and sought solace in fantasies of a past life.

  The Sin of Lust

  Sister Ioana spent the following day recuperating from the double cruelties inflicted upon her body. The wounds from the lash turned out to be very minor, more itchy than painful. Sister Clarya stopped by between lessons to offer her sympathies and slip Ioana a jar of ointment for the pain.

  "Sister Jenella uses it for bee stings," said Clarya as she passed the glass jar full of white cream to Ioana. "I am sure it will work for your, um, for the pain in your bottom."

  "She whipped me," said Ioana flatly. "The bitch whipped me."

  "Sister!" Clarya hissed with alarm and glanced back down the hall. "Sister Brookwen is lurking about. If she hears you speaking of the Sister Superior like that you will be--"

  "Of course, sister," said Ioana. She folded her hands together in the devotional symbol of Meryiana and bowed her head. "I will meditate on the things I have said and done."

  "You didn't deserve it," said Clarya. "But you'd better watch yourself."

  "Thank you, sister," said Ioana. "I will use the ointment to heal my itching."

  "Oh, yeah, good," said Clarya. "I have to get to the garden. Sister Kyla has decided to hold athletics class outdoors again. In the rain."

  Ioana wanted to say more, to tell Clarya what had transpired with the strange old man and the little book. She pursed her lips and kept silent. She could trust no one with a secret so dangerous, not even Clarya.

  Once her redheaded friend had left, Ioana returned to her bed and took out the book Axuris had traded to her. She was transcribing it as best she could. The handwriting was illegible in places and her knowledge of Old Kornasi was far from complete, but Ioana was determined.

  She tran
slated and transcribed with the book and her lesson notebook open on the bed. She rested upon her breasts, elbows, and tummy, with her habit and slips pulled up and her whipped bottom in the open air, soothed by a generous application of Sister Jenella's cream. By late afternoon, she had deciphered the spell, its necessary circle, and the chant she would need to cast it.

  "Summon lesser ally," was the best she could determine for the name of the spell. It described a "small and mischievous" creature that would "aid the bold wizard in spell casting, potion preparations, gathering reagents, and protecting the wizard's laboratory." The creature also promised to be a "tireless companion" and she noted in the crude illustration of the creature it seemed to have an oversized penis for its skinny frame. The pointed ears and teeth jutting from its under bite reminded Ioana of goblins she had seen at a festival. Those sorry captives did not have tails, horns, or bat-wings like this creature.

  Ioana's supper was brought to her and she was permitted a short time to bathe after her meal. Sister Superior Agatha visited her soon after and Ioana was forced to quickly hide her strange book and her transcription under her bed's mattress. Ioana stood up from her bed and lowered her gaze respectfully.

  "You may sit back down," said Agatha. "How are you feeling today, Sister Ioana?"

  "Well, Sister Superior," said the young nun.

  "Have you prayed and thought about what you have done?"

  "Yes." It was a lie. Ioana had skipped her morning prayers and hardly even considered what had happened on the mountainside as a misdeed. Agatha's cruel whip had cured her of her any shame at being violated by Axuris.

  "Good," said Agatha. "Tomorrow you will rejoin your sisters in your lessons. Tonight, you will do your penance. Are you familiar with Meryiana's teaching of humility to the mother?"

  "Of course," said Ioana. She recited the passage from Meryiana's One Hundred Teachings, "'A Daughter must obey her Mother in all things large and small. Her shame must be repaid on her knees and to the Mother's satisfaction.'"

  Ioana had always taken this to mean any sort of punishment, often corporal when administered by Sister Superior Agatha, and the knees being metaphorical submission.

  "Very good, perhaps you have listened to some of your lessons," said Agatha. She reached out with long, bony fingers and grasped the top of Ioana's wimple. The young sister looked up in confusion at being touched in this way. Agatha pushed the wimple back from Ioana's head, exposing her silky, dark hair cut into a short pageboy style. Agatha gazed down into Ioana's eyes. She stroked Ioana's sunburned face and ran her thumb lightly across the young woman's lips. Agatha's own lips parted softly. She spoke in a soft, whispering voice. "More than anyone else in this abbey, I view you as my daughter, Ioana. Do you understand?"

  "Y-yes," said Ioana, though she did not understand at all. Agatha always seemed to hate her.

  "For penance," said Agatha breathlessly, "your shame must be repaid on your knees. To my satisfaction."

  Agatha pushed Ioana to her knees beside the bed. Ioana was not sure what she was meant to do. She bowed her head and tears of panic stung her eyes. She could not understand why Agatha was talking in that strange, soft voice and why she pulled off her headpiece to expose her hair.

  Sister Superior Agatha stood before the kneeling young sister. Ioana heard a rustle of fabric and realized the light and dark of Agatha's habit and scapular were being lifted up her legs to reveal plain shoes, shin-stockings, and long, slightly plump pale legs. Ioana sucked in a fearful breath as Agatha lifted her habit and slips higher and higher, until she revealed the blonde-furred thatch of her cunt, with its dewy pink folds mush more fleshy than Ioana's own quim.

  "Satisfy me now, Sister Ioana," said Agatha, holding her habit and slips up with one hand and running her other hand over her exposed mound. "This is your penance."

  Ioana's face grew hot and her body felt strange, almost like it had when Axuris had kissed her. There was a trembling pang in her loins and she found it hard to breathe. She stared at the raunchy, intimate reality of Sister Superior Agatha's womanly cunt.

  "Sister Superior," whispered Ioana, shaking with confusion and desire and shame all at once. "What must I do?"

  "Find a way," Agatha growled with irritation. "Find your peace, child, for the disrespect you have brought to the order. Satisfy the mother."

  "Satisfy... you?" Ioana wanted to do no such thing as she looked up into Agatha's icy blue eyes. Yet... she wanted to do exactly that. She wanted to thrust her fingers and tongue into those hot, slippery folds and taste the Sister Superior's womanhood.

  "Yes, Ioana," said Agatha sternly. She reached a bony hand to Ioana's head and pulled the young sister's face closer. Agatha moaned, "Satisfy me."

  Ioana rested her hands on the Agatha's thighs. They were soft and pale. Her face was pushed towards the blonde-furred mound of Agatha's cunt and she did not resist. Her nose pressed into the Sister Superior's soft curls and she breathed the forbidden fragrance of Agatha's arousal.

  She acted purely on instinct to please the Sister Superior. Her thumbs caressed Agatha's outer folds and Ioana ran her tongue along the soft, slightly tangy groove of Agatha's womanly opening. She licked again, tasting the dew that gathered there and inhaling more of the musk of sweat and desire that clung to Agatha's furry mound.

  "Yes, that's it," whispered Agatha. "There. Lick me there. Feel the bud with your tongue. Do you feel that? My pleasure resides there. Ohhhhh... Ioana, your pretty princess face between my thighs. I knew this day would come."

  "Mmmmmm," whimpered Ioana, lapping at Agatha's clit and feeling the warm nectar of Agatha's cunt spilling against her chin. The more she licked, the harder Agatha pushed. The older woman began to work her hips, thrusting against Ioana's face, spreading the juice of her loans from Ioana's chin to the young sister's nose.

  "Yes, yes," gasped Agatha. "Suck it now, child. Suck my cunt. Ohhhhhhhh... yessss... two fingers inside me. Deeper. Oh, Sister Ioana, your humility is.... mmmmm... is breathtaking."

  Ioana was not certain if it was humility or self-preservation. She could not even be certain if she liked this or hated it. She sucked at Agatha's slick folds and lashed her tongue against the fat bead of Agatha's clit. The older nun thrust harder and harder, her gasps barely holding back the much louder cries of pleasure that would surely be heard throughout the convent.

  "Ohhhhhhh," gasped Agatha, her thighs quaking. "Ohhhh, yes, my pleasure... is hereeee."

  She threw back her head, her lips formed into an "O" of ecstasy as she came upon Ioana's face and tongue. Her plentiful juices spilled into the mouth of the young sister. Ioana drank them, although much spilled down her chin and washed away the taste of her supper wine.

  The young sister licked and sucked and thrust her fingers into the hot, clutching tunnel of Agatha's sex until the older woman stopped moaning. Her thighs were still shaking, but Agatha pushed Ioana away.

  "Enough," hissed Sister Superior Agatha. "Sing ten praises to Meryiana tonight and all will be healed, sister."

  "Th-thank you," murmured Ioana, wiping her lips.

  Agatha nodded curtly and dropped her dress back down her legs. She turned to the door, as if to leave Ioana behind, and Ioana slowly rose to her feet. Agatha turned back and kissed Ioana, thrusting her tongue into the young sister's mouth. The kiss was long and one-sided, but Ioana did not dare resist. Agatha finally pulled her lips away. She grabbed a handful of Ioana's black hair.

  "Not a word of your punishment to anyone else," hissed Agatha, "or the punishment will beyond any you can imagine."

  "Of... of course, sister," said Ioana.

  Agatha released her and smiled almost sweetly. "Goodnight, Sister Ioana."

  "Goodnight, Sister Superior."

  Agatha left, her heels clicking on the stone floor outside Ioana's room. The door thumped closed and was locked with a loud click by whichever sister was keeping watch. Ioana sighed and fell back on her bed. She wiped her mouth with a handkerchief and it reminded her terribly
of wiping the congealed white liquid from her breasts the day before.

  Ioana felt used and angry. Her gaze fell upon the book and her translation.

  "A tireless companion," she said, running her fingers over the drawing of the summoning circle. "An ally. Someone who will not use me and abuse me like Agatha or that man I met on the mountainside."

  The call soon came for lights out and Ioana snuffed her candle. There was a single window in her quarters and they cast a bright, silver rectangle of moonlight upon her bed. It was more than enough light to take a piece of chalk and draw the circle upon the stone floor of her chamber. The spell required a circle "equal in diameter to the width of four hands." The magic also demanded a single drop of blood in the center of the circle as an "offering of life" to "appease the powers of beyond."

  Ioana pricked her finger with a pin and smeared the drops of blood upon the cold stone floor. She sucked her finger to stop the bleeding. Once it had subsided, she began the simple incantation. She sounded the Old Kornasi words out phonetically, unconvinced that her translation would actually work in casting the spell. She repeated the incantation several times, shaking with excitement, but also convinced that it would not work.

  Nothing happened. She sighed and tossed her book onto the bed. It had not worked.

  Violet light opened like a blooming flower in the air above the circle. It was so quick and so unexpected that Ioana could only stare in disbelief as the light grew larger and, after a flicker, disappeared. It left behind a small, red-skinned man crouching in the circle. He was skinny and long-limbed, with a tail that was prehensile like a monkey's, but ended in a barbed stinger like a scorpion's tail. His face was goblin-like and his ears were long and pointed. His features were more delicate than a goblin's, more handsome, and like a tiny human's face. His eyes glowed with violet magic.