Nun Pussy

Sister Maria Clare led the youth into the dank cell beneath the convent where she knew they would not be disturbed or heard through the thick dungeon walls. She bade him lift his robes to the middle of his back and bare his lean buttocks to her. From the nun’s expression, the boy knew he would gain no mercy. He was thankful his fear had caused his cock to shrivel until it was nearly invisible. He feared the reaction if this holy nun caught him with an erection.

The stern woman placed a hand on his back and bade him to bend forward, hands on knees. Her heavy black skirts swirled the warm air around his bared buttocks as she moved. Sister Marie Clare stood slightly to his left and turned her body to an angle she could control her swing as the flat leather strap sailed through the air and landed flush on his tender flanks.

Zachary yelped in spite of himself.

“No one will hear you,” assured the nun. A second blow landed full on target. Zachary felt the breath leave him as the full burn of the first two strokes took effect.

To his shock, the good nun’s left hand sneaked to his crotch and grasped his lengthening instrument.

“What’s this?” she demanded in feigned surprise.

The boy trembled.

“Answer me.”

“My, my cock.”

“Cock? is that a proper name?”

“It’s what we call it.”

“We?”

“All the good brothers.”

“All brothers possess this. . . this thing?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“It has a purpose?”

“Yes Ma’am. Men and boys, they piss through it.”

“Her fingers moved the loose skin back and forth on the boy’s organ as it grew firmer in her hand. ”And you believe that women do that differently?”

“I have heard so.” He felt himself grow in her hand and willed himself to stop but with the fire in his tail brought a surplus of blood to the region and with the movement of her fingers exciting him, he grew quite stiff. “That was why I peeked at you. I wished to confirm those rumors.”

“It makes a fine handle to keep you in place,” commented the Nun. “And did you satisfy your curiosity as to the shades of difference in man and woman?”

“No Sister. Not completely.”

The strap descended again though this time not nearly so hard. Without loosening her hold, she continued adding a number of lighter blows while her fingers gripped him firmly. Now he became increasingly disturbed that he might spurt something nasty and slick in her hand. That would totally embarrass him and most certainly bring a continuing rain of blows from the stern but pretty nun.

“This thing of yours, does it often swell to such dimensions?”

“Just sometimes.” muttered Zachary.”

“Can you tell me why this happens?”

“No Ma’am. Not exactly.”

“When does it happen?”

“Most often when I entertain impure thoughts.”

“Impure thoughts? Nasty thoughts?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“These nasty thoughts, what are they about?”

“I dare not tell tell.”

“Then I must strap you further.”

“About women, what they hide between their legs and how much curly hair grows there.”

“You believe all women grow such hair in that place?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And you wished to satisfy yourself that Sisters of the church are so made?”

The lad nodded.

The woman dropped the strap and touched his shoulder. “You may straighten for a moment.”

Zachary straightened then started to let his robes fall.”

“Leave that strange object exposed. I mean to inspect it further.” With one hand disappearing into her voluminous robe, she bent to inspect the boy’s erect penis. “This is used for pissing, you say?”

Zachary nodded. He did not know how much he dared tell this black hooded woman who put the fear of fire and brimstone into him as well as a fire in his burning buns. Still she sought knowledge that, because of her order, had been kept from her.

“Men on the outside do things to women with it and women have babies.”

“How is this accomplished?” asked the woman.

“It is, I hear, placed in a tight hole between the woman’s legs.”

Marie Clare spoke in almost a whisper. “Have you done this?”

“No Ma’am.”

“But you would like to?”

“That would be nice. Before I came here the girls ran from me.”

The woman nodded. “It must be uncomfortable, this stiffness. Does it remain or does it, sometimes, become docile?”

“Sometimes.”

She placed her mouth close to his ear and whispered, “You will mention this to no one.”

“No Ma’am.”

“Not a word.”

“I promise.”

The nun nodded. ”You have a strong male body. I would study it further.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “I heard The Holy Sisters have no interests in the temporal body.”

The woman smiled. “We may both learn much if we proceed carefully.”

“I will act so no one could ever suspects.”

Her fingers caressed the smooth flesh where she had strapped him, then moved once more to tease his erect cock. “Do you believe an older sister, one in her thirties, might possess a strange hole among those curls you mentioned?”

The boy nodded. “I believe it is so. Surely the Brothers much increase the size and rigidity of their weapons when speaking of such an opening.”

“You have observed the Holy Brothers in a state of undress?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Why does this occur?”

“After mass one brother or another often leads me to an ante room where secret rites are performed.”

What sort of rites?”

“Doings I have been cautioned never to speak of. I would be sorely punished for revealing the Brother’s secrets.”

”As you will be punished further in this place if you do not reveal all.” The nuns voice softened. “I will speak to no one of it. There are deep secrets we may share if you are totally forthcoming.”

“Secret for secret?”

Maria Clare nodded and smiled agreement. “I confess to possession of such a secret cavity hidden beneath my curls. What else do you think is there.”

“A place you piss from?” He wrinkled his brow as if he had committed blasphemy. “Do the sisters do that?”

The nun smiled wanly. “Do what? Piss?”

The boy nodded.

“Of course they do.” She continued, “They drink, therefore there must be an outlet for all that water.”

Zachary nodded gravely. “I. . . I wondered about that. I wish to see such a fountain gush forth from that place.”

“You have seen much such pissing when the brothers relieve themselves?” questioned the nun.

“Often,” said the boy, “They also perform secret services to relieve themselves or each other of a more precious fluid in their most holy rites.”

“You say the Brothers take you to the ante room, they reveal themselves, naked, to you and perform such rites on you?”

“They are holy fathers.” said the boy. “You must understand, what they have projecting down there is far larger than that you clasp in your hand.”

The nun gasped. “Is that possible?”

“Many of the brothers possess huge prongs. Father Ted tells us such size comes from the daily exercise of it .”

“Exercise? What exercise do they perform?”

“Most vigorous, fast movements with the hand.” The boy demonstrated by moving her fist up and down his stiff projection.

“It feels most strange. I would like providing such an exercise,” said the sister. “I will manipulate you so that I might understand this process thoroughly.”

The boy moaned softly as the soft hand gripped him tightly and continued the movement he had shown her. “Do it slowly for a while so the good feelings grow gradually. That is how Father Waldo does it.”

The nun slowed her hand and moved the fingers gently up and down the the boy’s stiff rod. She adapted to the rhythm easily and enjoyed the task immensely. “You have viewed Brother Waldo in such a state as you now enjoy? You have exercised his person in this manner?”

“Often,” said Zachary. But there are other processes he enjoys more.”

“And what would that be?”

“He swallows it to the short hairs and licks my uncapped crown most rapturously. It is heaven when I offer up my essences and he swallows most greedily.”

“He takes that monster into his mouth and swallows all that you project?”

“Easily and others that grow longer and thicker.”

“I cannot believe it.“

“I have managed most of his huge organ,” confessed the boy, proudly, “and I have swallowed his mighty load without choking.”

“He imposes himself on you in such a manner?”

The boy nodded, innocently. “At times, we arrange ourselves in a way that we may sip of each other‘s juices mutually. It is most delightful, giving and receiving.”

“Most certainly,” said the nun, “I should like to view such a performance.”

“It is not possible,” said the boy, simply.

“Too bad,” said the woman. Her hand worked unceasingly on the ever increasing stiffness of his throbbing member. “I have this urge I cannot explain. I desire to pay homage to this delightful object as you relate the good father’s do.”

“Then, by all means, you must,” moaned the boy. “I suffer great distress from your toying with it. I must release those essences you now churn with your fist.”

“Surely it is a grievous sin,” replied the sister, “to allow such an object into one’s mouth.”

“Oh no,” said the boy, hastily. “The Good Brothers explain that all is permitted when such practice is by those blessed by the faith. Surely, Good Sister, you have been blessed as such a person.”

“I am so blessed,” said Sister Maria Clare. “I am convinced that it is holy calling that urges me toward the knowledge I yearn for. I am not immune to pleasures of the flesh. I must yield.”

“Please do,” urged the boy. “It is called sucking the cock.”

“I must,” breathed the sister.

She feel to her knees without loosening the hold on her prize. She touched the smooth, purple flesh of the cock’s crown, tentatively, with her pointed tongue and tasted a drop of the clear, salty lubricant emitting from the winking eye.

His taste was not unpleasant. She engulfed the fleshy instrument and closed her lips firmly about it. Her teasing tongue circled the smooth, mushroom shaped head. From that moment, her mouth was too full, too animated to question further. Her arms encircled his hips and her hands clasped his thrusting buttocks as the boy sought to force more hard meat into the woman's gullet. She moaned and struggled to accommodate him as she was overtaken by the lustfulness of her actions.

The boy quite lost control. Words poured from his mouth along with his moans and the words were not fit subjects for a cloistered nun’s ears.

“Suck it!” he moaned. “Oh Jesus and Mary, swallow my cock and drink its efflusions as a sacrament.” His hand clutched her hooded head and he forced himself into her mouth until his pubic hairs tickled her lips and his loins were hidden between the wipples of her headpiece.

He felt her fingers close on his clenched ass cheeks as she fought to draw more of him into her throat though her air passages were nearly clogged by his throbbing cock. The feeling was one of near suffocation.

Thus Maria Clare tasted her first male offering, a sacrament she swallowed most greedily.

The nun appeared as in a stupor.

The boy eased her back and lay her out on her back onto the hard stone floor .

Maria Clare gasped for air and was unaware of anything beyond the bitter taste of the boy’s sperm filling her mouth. She was hardly aware of his parting and easing the heavy skirts upward until well past her waist. He opened the pale, white thighs that loomed larger, whiter, softer than he imagined.

Though aware that women were created differently, he was not certain of the precise manner of that difference. He had absorbed only rumors and tales from the monks as they pulled each other’s cocks. He was certain few of those men had experienced a view as now lay before his eyes.

He reveled in those two round pillars of flesh, thighs softer, rounder than any brother he had lain with. He bent over that pale, rounded belly where those magnificent thighs joined. At the juncture lay a large triangle of mossy, red, curls covering that part so well he saw nothing beneath it. Of one thing he was certain, no man cock existed there.

“The woman stirred. “What is happening to me?”

“You have taken me to heaven and I was seeking ways to repay you.”

“A cool draft plays at my nether regions as though I were unnaturally exposed.” gasped the nun.

“I sought to confirm that place you have secreted there,” said the boy, honestly.

“You dare such an intrusion on my blessed person?”

“You most thoroughly examined me,” countered the boy. “I hope you do not mind.”

“It is most unseemly to view that unworthy portion of a Holy Sister’s unholy anatomy.”

“Why so,” asked the boy. “I find it most lovely.“

“As you know, it is from that place I must piss daily, often more than once” confessed the nun. “Therefore it is deemed unclean.”

“Surely you must wash it as we are taught by the fathers to wash ourselves in all places.”

“And monthly, I must confess, to a women’s shame, that poor place between our thighs bleeds most plentifully. It is our curse.”

“I see no sign of it,” said the boy. “I have not sighted an opening.”

“It is there, I assure you. Having gone so far, I will part my legs that you shall view my open, woman’s wound. But you must promise,” gasped the nun, “that never, on pain of death, will you breathe a word of this.”

“On my mother’s grave I swear,” said the boy.”

“Then gaze closely.” Maria Clare further parted her thighs. There appeared before him, a widening slit that slowly revealed a slick, pink opening hidden deep in the thick wiry hair, a place that begged for exploration.

Maria Clare moaned as his finger entered. “A man should not invade that place.”

“I must see it all,” said the boy. “How deep does this passage go?”

“It is said to have no bottom,” said the nun. “Surely no finger can touch its end.”

“Then it resembles that hole in back, which we possess in common.”

“I have no contact with that place other than to wipe it well after shitting.”

“It has a second purpose,” said the boy. “The good fathers sheath their randy weapons there and bless that passage with their efflusions much as they spurt it into our gullets. It is good, Brother Bart proclaims, for soothing a brother’s prostrate.”

“That is possible?” asked the astounded nun, “such a prodigious instrument invading a small opening such as a man must possess?”

“Though at first painful, it most surely happens. Father Ted has so invaded me. I have also favored Father Leo’s back passage in such a manner. He desires it that way most often. Each brother possesses his own preferences.”

“So,” said the nun, “if this act is accomplished between men, should not a man’s, cock you called it, accommodate a woman in a like manner?”

“Most surely it should,” agreed the boy, “as your mouth relieved me as sweetly as any good brother who has swallowed me thus.”

“Then tell me.” Sister Maria Clare rose to a sitting position. How is this coupling accomplished?”

“I would gladly demonstrate,” offered the boy.

“My poor body is most sorely agitated,” said the nun. “Perhaps such an act might ease my predicament. Invade me, I beg you, with this stiff thing you call cock.”

“Arrange your self on your knees and turn from me,” instructed the boy. “Now bend forward and present your pretty rump raised high.”

“’Tis most embarrassing,” said the nun, assumed the position. It is as though you were about to thresh me.”

“You have been so threshed?”

Maria Clare confessed. “It becomes a serious part of a nun’s training in humility.”

The boy surveyed those broad, bulbous buns, the rounded curvatures. He parted the deep central cleft with his hands to reveal the crinkled rosette of her most private hole, one, until now, unexamined by human eyes. He prodded, experimentally with one finger and trailed it across the tender opening. The pucker immediately tightened. He wet his finger liberally with spittle and anointed the puckering portal. “I should like to lay a few slaps on two such lovely white pillows.”

“Then do so quickly, but only a few to warm me properly.” She wriggled her big bottom enticingly. “It is something I sometimes crave.”

The boy laid half a dozen smacks on each quivering cheek and the nuns big bottom absorbed them hungrily.

“The boy again parted the big cheeks and inserted a saliva slickened finger.

“That feel very strange.” She grunted as he thrust into the opening. “It feels so large.”

“One finger,” said the boy. He sawed it in and out in slow, measured strokes.

“A most pleasant sensation,” murmured the nun. “I am sure the larger object will please me when you insert it.”

“It will pain you,” said the boy. “Sometimes, it hurts a lot.”

“We are taught that pain leads to gain,” said the nun.”

“I have been told that is so.”

“Such as when I spanked your bare bottom. Did not the rewards of that spanking lead to a far greater pleasure?”

“That is true,” the boy marveled. “The brothers have introduced that principle to all the altar boys but how do you know that such spanking leads to pleasure?”

“Get on with it,” urged the nun. “Put that weapon to me, for that it surely is. Give it to me in that hole from whence comes shit.”

“Speak more,”urged the boy, “of your big, naked bottom being spanked.”

“It is a secret.”

“After this, we no longer have no secrets.”

“We sisters often take turns at reddening our bare bottoms.”

“In secret?”

“Of course.”

“Even the Mother Superior?”

“She lays it on most heavily.”

“And dare you punish her?”

Maria Clare nodded vigorously. “She insists upon it. Her broad bottom, far larger than mine, accepts harsher punishment for longer than any other sister.”

“And does she grow her hair more plentifully in that place where you have such an abundance?”

“I am sure she could have much more if she so desired.”

“But she does not?”

In spite of her agitation at the boys finger moving relentlessly into her fundament, the nun giggled. “You must never mention it.”

“I swear.”

“Her mount, she keeps it shaved.”

“Shaved?”

“Bald as a babe’s.”

“Does it not look strange?”

“Though she is much older, she must be seventy, it is quite lovely. We sisters pay homage each week.”

“Homage?”

“As you confess to letting the good brothers enter your orifices with their stiff objects, we press our lips to the good mother’s lower lips and pledge devotion with our tongues.”

“Your tongue comes into play?”

“At such a time one cannot not keep it inactive.”

“And the taste?”

“It is not unpleasant. No more than yours.”

“How I would love to view such a demonstration of your devotion.”

“Even the thought of it would be forbidden.”

“Does the Holy Mother reciprocate your devotions to her.”

“She warms our bottoms most thoroughly then sits back to watch the rest of us alleviating the passions we have aroused.”

“It seems, there is little variance between the men and the women of this holy order.”

“The woman moved her ample bottom from side to side. “That place where you have placed your finger cries for a larger instrument. I am ready to withstand your assault.”

“Brace yourself.” The boy applied liberal globs of saliva to his pulsing penis and touched it to the place where he had withdrawn his fingers.

“Bore on,” gasped Sister Maria Clare between clenched teeth.

”Ass-fuck,” breathed the boy. He forced his weapon past the anal muscle on his first thrust and it closed strongly behind the head.”

“Mother of God!” moaned the poor nun. “You are ripping me apart.”

“It only seems so for a little while,” said the boy. He pressed a second inch into the woman’s tight, rear passage.

“I am ruined forever,” cried the nun. “Surely I will shit blood from that place after your assault.”

“No blood,” assured the boy. “I told you it only hurts at first.”