I never knew my mother. She abandoned me at a convent shortly after I was born. Nor do I know who my father is, though I have my suspicions about his nature given my own tendencies and proclivities.
St. Silvia's was an isolated nunnery in the countryside. Being isolated, the nuns were left in a bit of a quandary as to what to do with this small, male infant child left on their doorstep. The nearest orphanage was over thirty miles away, and while they could have sent someone to deliver a note and have the orphanage fetch me, or deliver me via cart or wagon by one of the infrequent merchants who supplied the place, they opted to raise me instead. I think they fancied they could raise me up in the Faith to be a priest. In my ignorance, I was headed in that direction, fully intending to take vows and become a member of the clergy. Then puberty hit and my true nature began to make itself known.
Poor women. Poor, foolish women.
At eighteen, I was being prepared to enter the seminary, but I was already finding myself fascinated by women's bodies - their shapes and curves. A strange, powerful compulsion filled me and I started spying on the nuns as they changed or bathed, entranced by their breasts and bellies, legs and thighs, all the things that make a woman a woman. I was especially delighted when I caught two nuns making love to each other, one of them going down on the other while in the privacy of their shared cell. That was an eyesight worth remembering!
I found myself filled with strange urges and emotions. A powerful need overcame me to explore, to spy on them, and to touch myself, driving me like an intense hunger. It was seldom satisfied simply by watching them and stroking myself, or masturbating in my cell alone. Remembering or imagining these things and masturbating brought no satisfaction. It was only when I was nearby, close enough to hear or see them, that I felt fulfillment. I felt strange, pleasurable energies flow through me as I witnessed them in the throes of their ecstasy-I would peak when they peaked, orgasm when they orgasmed.
The nuns, for their part, struggled with their sexual feelings, being taught that such impulses were sinful and "of the devil." I began to wonder if I was already under some evil influence, but found myself too entranced, to be honest. My indulgence was of such pleasure and delight to me, as well as seeming somewhat necessary - as much as taking food and drink - that I quickly let go of any guilt or doubt and simply gratified myself when the need arose.
It was purely by accident that I discovered that I could influence these women around me. It was during a Lenten fast of prayer and meditation. I had decided to forego my private indulgences and see if I could make it through the season without masturbating or witnessing masturbation and sex play by the nuns. But that abstinence only made my hunger worse. My meditations became hours-long internal fantasies wherein I would see various nuns engaged in self-pleasure or lesbian encounters with each other. As I emerged from my cell one evening, I heard the unmistakable moans of utter decadence and pleasure coming from down the hall. Aroused and curious, I went down to investigate only to find three nuns lapping each other in a lovely daisy-chain of writhing, shuddering flesh-exactly as I had been imagining in my meditation!
Some small part of me felt relief like a thirsty man finally being given water. It refreshed me and enlivened me! With that experience, I opted to give free rein to my hunger and see what the results would be.
I spied a lone nun as she washed the laundry, and I wished for her to indulge herself while I spied on her from the shadows. To my utter astonishment and delight, she did! Sister Catherine, with hardly a thought or any semblance of shame or inhibition, drew up her robes and began to sweetly masturbate herself. It was slow, and indulgent, and I savored it. Her self-pleasuring fed me like a true feast, satisfying my hunger deeply and profoundly.
There were over thirty nuns in the convent between the acolytes and the sisters. I fed regularly and often.
The nuns of St. Silvia's were in a bit of a crisis. The number of them indulging in sexual activities increased, and many of them were being disciplined, some repeatedly, for it. The two nuns who had been involved in a lesbian relationship were separated and sent away to different parishes. But the epidemic continued. More nuns were caught masturbating than ever before, and were confessing an unusually high number of sexual dreams and urges. This made the environment one of heightened repression and secrecy. That repression only heightened the need within the sisters, and fulfilled me to an even greater degree when they surrendered to it.
I began to indulge myself in bolder and grander ways. If I could make one nun masturbate, why not two? Or three? If I could make a pair of nuns satisfy themselves with each other, why not more? And so I did. I began to make them masturbate together, or make love to each other in larger and larger orgies. And the more I did so, the easier it became. It was as if their natural resistance or reluctance wore away over time, and they became easier to influence and make act for me.
