Expelling Jennies Demons

Expelling Jennie's Demons

Jennie's mother was at her wits end. Her eighteen-year-old daughter was impossible. She swore, refused to do any chores and smoked weed and drank alcohol in her bedroom. If her mother, a good Christian lady, protested, she was met with a torrent of abuse.

In despair she consulted her churchgoing friend.

'Demons,' said the friend. 'Jennie is possessed.'

'Do you think so?' asked Jennie's mother.

'No doubt about it,' said the friend. 'My niece was the same. But look: I know a woman who can help. She's a nun, or ex-nun, or a Priestess - I'm not quite sure. She's a bit - unorthodox. But she gets result. My niece was transformed

The friend gave the worried mother a card, with the name of Sister Rosamund and a phone number.

When her mother told Jennie she must see Sister Rosamund Jennie swore and cursed and told her mother to go to hell. It was only when her mother threatened to tell the Police about Jennie's drug use that Jennie relented. A few hours with some stupid nun was better than jail.

Jennie's mother was surprised when Sister Rosamund showed them in. Although she was wearing a habit she seemed very young - maybe mid-twenties - and remarkably shapely for a nun. But Jennie's mother trusted her friend's judgement, and they spoke together in the waiting room.

'It should take about an hour,' said Sister Rosamund. 'You are welcome to wait here. But I must ask you: whatever noises you hear, please do not enter the treatment room. I will call you when we are finished.'

So Jennie's mother took a seat, and Sister Rosamund disappeared with Jennie through a door marked Consulting Room

Jennie took one look round and saw a wide couch covered in waterproof plastic and set around with all manner of clamps and fastenings. Immediately she was on the attack:

'You needn't think I'm going to take any notice of some stupid nun,' she said. 'I'm only here to oblige my mother.'

'Your mother has charged me to expel your demons Jennie,' said Sister Rosamund. 'And that's exactly what I am going to do. Now remove all your clothes.'

'What?' exclaimed Jennie. 'F*** You!'

'I'm going to count to five,' said Sister Rosamund, apparently quite unperturbed. If you have not removed your clothes I shall remove them by force.'

Jennie threw back her head and laughed.

'You just try,' she said. 'You'll get a fist in your tits if you do.'

Jennie never knew quite what happened next. For a nun Sister Rosamund possessed remarkable skill and strength, and seconds later Jennie found herself pinned down on the couch with her arms stretched above her head and straps fastened around her wrists.

'You f***ing cunt,' she screamed. 'You bitch you motherf***er let me go or I'll kill you!'

'I did warn you,' said Sister Rosamund calmly. 'Now: let's have these off.'

Jennie kicked out viciously, but it was no good. Sister Rosamund unlaced and removed her shoes, then grasped her jeans at the waist and in one smooth movement drew them off along with her pants.

'You pervert!' Jennie screamed, still kicking out ineffectively. 'Well go on - lick my pussy if that's what you want, see if I care.'

Ignoring her Sister Rosamund strapped Jennie's feet into a pair of stirrups, then set about the more difficult task of removing Jennie's jacket, blouse and bra. To do this she had to release one of Jennie's wrists at a time, and remove the garments over first one arm then the other. Although Jennie lashed out and swore the whole time, this was soon accomplished.

'Now,' said Sister Rosamund: 'We'll start by washing your mouth out with Holy Water. Open wide.'

Jennie clamped her lips shut. Sister Rosamund pinched her nostrils together. Unable to breathe Jennie was forced to open her mouth. The second she did so, Sister Rosamund slipped a wire clamp inside and fastened it at the rear. Jennie mouth was clamped open wide. She thrashed about, indignant, furious: then, to her utter amazement, Sister Rosamund climbed onto the couch, stood astride Jennie and hitched up her habit. She was wearing nothing underneath. Jennie stared up her smooth, shapely legs and at her shaved pussy. What the f***? Suddenly a trickle of piss began to cascade down onto Jennie's face. The trickle became a stream: unbelievable as it seemed, Sister Rosamund was pissing on her.

'You can't do this,' Jennie tried to shout, but it came out as a gurgle as piss overwhelmed her, ran down her nostril and flooded her mouth. Jennie gasped, tried to spit, to turn her head away, but the torrent of piss hissed into her mouth, remorseless.

'Swallow,' commanded Sister Rosamund

Jennie had no choice. In order to breathe she was forced to gulp the hateful liquid down. It tasted vile. She spluttered and tried to protest. She tried to wrench her head away, but piss streamed down her cheeks and into her nose, and however she twisted and turned Sister Rosamund's jet seemed to track her, and find it's way down her throat. The more she was forced to swallow the deeper inside her it seemed to travel. The horrible taste of piss seemed to invade her insides.

At last the torrent ceased. Sister Rosamund lowered her habit and calmly climbed down. Even when the mouth clamp had been removed Jennie was speechless: she could concentrate only on the vile taste in her mouth, on her tongue.

'You filthy bitch!' she exclaimed at last.

'Everything that leaves my body is Holy,' said Sister Rosamund calmly. 'We will now proceed to the next stage in your purification.'

Without waiting for any comment from Jennie she took a set of clippers from a shelf and began to shave off Jennie's pubic hair. Jennie writhed like a tethered wildcat, thrust up her hips and spat viciously, but it was no use. Sister Rosamund plied the clippers expertly until not a hair remained on Jennie's crotch.

'You can't do this to me,' said Jennie - but with rather less conviction than before.

'Now,' said Sister Rosamund. 'Let me explain about demons. Demons live in the dark places: down in your bowels with all the filth. In a moment I'm going to help you expel them. But first we're going to stir them up a bit.'

She adjusted the stirrups so that Jennie's knees were bent, her legs pulled up towards her head and her bottom raised. Then she took a bottle marked 'Holy Oil' poured a little onto her middle finger, and presented it to Jennie's anus. Jennie immediately clenched her muscles. Sister Rosamund waited until Jennie's muscles began to tire, then slid her finger inside. Jennie gasped.

'No,' she said. 'How dare you? I'll scream. I'll have the Police on you.'

'Scream all you like,' invited Sister Rosamund, as she worked her oiled finger all around inside Jennie's anus. 'It will make no difference.'

Jennie squirmed, trying to get free of the probing finger, but could do nothing - until suddenly the finger was withdrawn with a pop like a cork from a bottle. Her anal muscles felt strange - aching - violated. How dare this pervert, this nun, violate her?

'That seems to have stirred them up,' said Sister Rosamund. 'Now we will start on the exorcism'

If Jennie expected chanting or ritual incantations she was in for a shock. Instead Sister Rosamund took a nozzle connected to a long pipe which in turn was connected to an upside-down hot water bottle hanging on the wall. The bottle was marked Holy Water.

'What the f***?' demanded Jennie

Then she felt the cold press of the nozzle into her anus. She screamed and tried to fight, contracting her muscles for all she was worth. But the Holy Oil had lubricated her and the nozzle slid inside her unimpeded.

Next she felt the flow of liquid, up through her anus, into her bowels.

'No!' she protested, and her stomach began to swell. 'No. You're hurting me!'

Sister Rosamund pressed her hands onto Jennie's tummy and began to palpate her. 'We've stirred up a hornet's nest of demons,' she said. 'Breathe deeply and try to relax'

Jennie could not relax. Her stomach was swelling, the need to empty her bowels grew ever more urgent.

'Please,' she said, her demeanour changing. 'Please: I must go to the lavatory.'

'Patience,' said Sister Rosamund.

The Holy Water continued to flow. Jennie was squirming, desperate to empty her bowels.

Abruptly Sister Rosamund switched off the flow. But instead of releasing Jennie from the stirrups and clamps she produced a plastic bedpan and slid it under Jennie's buttocks.

'Prepare yourself,' she said to Jennie.

Then she pulled the nozzle out of Jennie's anus and said in a voice of command:

'Now! Expel your demons Jennie!

There was a gurgling sound and a stinking mass of excrement and foul liquid burst out of Jennie's bottom and into the bedpan.

'Keep going,' urged Sister Rosamund. 'Expel those demons Jennie.'

Jennie felt as though her bowels were being torn out. Burst after burst of filth cascaded out of her bottom, and all the while Sister Rosamund's hand rested on her tummy, encouraging her.

At last the eruption dwindled to a trickle of brown liquid. Jennie was left gasping, breathless, feeling like her insides had been emptied out.

Sister Rosamund took the brimming bedpan. Jennie heard the sound of a cistern flushing and water running from a tap. Presently Sister Rosamund returned and replaced the bedpan under Jennie's buttocks.

'What are you doing?' demanded Jennie, embarrassed, humiliated, but still protesting

'We've made a good start,' said Sister Rosamund

'Start?' queried Jennie. But already the hateful nozzle was inside her again, and Holy Water was streaming into her bowels. Once again cramping pains wracked her stomach; once again Sister Rosalind palpated her, until she was full to bursting.

The nozzle was removed.

'Expel you demons,' commanded Sister Rosamund. Jennie really had no need to be told. She had no control at all over what was happening, her bowels were expelling their contents by themselves. On and on it went, the liquid expulsion, the exodus of foul brown matter, until once again she was gasping and spent.

Sister Rosamund removed and flushed the bedpan, then set it in place once more.

'No please,' begged Jennie. 'I'm empty, I'm done. Please.'

Sister Rosamund noticed the change that had come over Jennie. The arrogant, abusive girl was now reduced to pleading.

'We have to complete what we started' she said.

Jennie felt she had no fight left in her, no control over what was happening to her body. Three times more the nozzle was inserted and the Holy Water bag emptied into her bowels. Three times more her bowels emptied themselves into the bedpan. Until Sister Rosamund declared that the water expelled was running clear. All traces of demons had been expunged. She emptied the last bedpan, returned to Jennie and undid the clamps on her wrists and feet.

Jennie could not move. All the breath had gone from her. Her body was exhausted. She was completely spent.

'Relax now' Sister Rosamund said. She disappeared for a moment, and returned with a sponge, soaked in warm water. Gently she sponged Jennie. First she sponged her mouth, her cheeks and under her chin. Then she sponged between Jennie's legs, between her buttocks, spreading her open with one hand whilst sponging around her anus. That done she took a soft white towel and gently dabbed and wiped Jennie dry. Finally she took the bottle of Holy Oil, dribbled a little around Jennie's anus, and massaged around that dark penumbra, probing just at the tip of her opening but without forcing her finger inside.

Jennie's mother had been pacing the waiting room anxiously. Several times, hearing screaming and shouting from the Consulting Room she had been tempted to intervene. But the nun had told her to wait, so wait she had.

Now here was Sister Rosamund telling her it was over and she could come in.

The first thing she saw was her daughter lying naked on the couch with her legs apart and her newly shaven vagina on display. Jennie made an attempt to cover her modesty with her hands: but her muscles would not obey her. Under her mother's scrutiny she felt totally humiliated, exposed and hollowed-out.

She started to sob.

'Take her hand,' said Sister Rosamund.

The two women drew chairs and sat either side of Jennie. Each took one of her hands.

'It's all right,' soothed her mother. 'You mother's here now.'

Jennie sobbed herself out, then lay inert.

'Is she alright?' her mother asked.

'Jennie is fine, just a little tired,' Sister Rosamund said. 'We have had a very successful session: all Jennie's demons have been expelled.'

'Well, that's wonderful,' said her mother, who was still a little confused.

'Let me explain to you about aftercare,' said Sister Rosamund 'Demons like to hide in the dark places. In Jennie's bowels. We have successfully flushed them out. But how to you think they get in?'

'I've no idea,' said her mother. 'Through her mouth?'

'No,' said Sister Rosamund. 'Here'

She parted Jennie's pussy lips and laid a finger lightly on Jennie's clitoris.

'I don't understand,' said Jennie's mother, who was not comfortable with all this explicit bodily stuff.

'Masturbation,' said Sister Rosamund. 'Masturbation is an open invitation to demons to come and take possession of you. It's as though you left all the doors and windows of your house open: it wouldn't be long before thieves were inside. So in order to prevent the demons from returning, she must be prevented from masturbating.'

'I see - I think,' said Jennie's mother. 'But how?'

'With this,' said Sister Rosamond, producing from a pocket in her habit a strange steel-and-perspex device. 'It's a chastity device. It fits like so.'

She slid the device between Jennie's legs and around her waist, and showed how it locked into place.

'It's completely tamper proof,' she said. 'Here are the keys. Make sure to keep them in a safe and secret place.'

'But,' said her mother: 'what about hygiene?'

'Naturally you must wash her at least once a day.'

'I wash her?' asked her mother. 'But she's eighteen years old.'

'It's best she doesn't touch herself,' said Sister Rosamund. 'The temptation might be too great. Also you must shave her, at least once a week. Demons will seek out any hiding places. Of course if you don't feel up to it you could bring her to me.'

'No,' said Jennie's mother, her resolve stiffening. 'If that's what it takes to keep Jennie free of demons, I shall do my Christian duty by her.'

'Good,' said Sister Rosamund. 'One more thing. Her clothes, particularly her underclothing, may be contaminated. With your permission I would like to burn them all.'

'I hate those punk clothes she wears,' said Jennie's mother. 'I'd be glad to see the back of them. But she can't travel home naked. What will she wear?'

Sister Rosamund went to a cupboard.

'This,' she said, and returned with a long pure-white shift.

'White clothing only from now on,' said Sister Rosamund. 'It helps to attract good energy.'

If Jennie was taking all this in, she did not show it. She lay on the couch, exposed, defeated, a glazed look in her eyes. The two women helped her up and lowered the shift over her head.

'She's had quite an ordeal,' said Sister Rosamund. 'When you get home give her a cup of tea and some food. Good plain nutritious food - nothing spicy - from now on. Once per week dose her with castor oil, it will help lubricate her bowels. Also make sure she is occupied. Take her to church regularly, and get her involved in some charitable community project.'

'I will,' said Jennie's mother, who was on surer ground now. 'But - what if she refuses to co-operate?'

'Bring her to me,' said Sister Rosamund. 'And I will give her a full day of purging and scourging.'

At that Jennie seemed to gasp - though it may just have been the exertion of standing upright.

They helped Jennie to her mother's car. Her mother thanked Sister Rosamund and drove away. She was pleased. She was relieved. The Jennie she drove home in her white shift was not the same Jennie she had driven to Sister Rosamund's a few hours earlier. This Jennie was subdued. She was chastened and compliant. Her demons had been exorcised. And though her mother thought it odd to be tasked with washing and shaving her daughter's private parts, she was determined to do whatever was necessary to ensure no demons returned.

Whether or not she would succeed only time would tell.