Memoirs of Lady Catherine

Father's hunting guests filled the dinner table at Norman Hall that night, and since Mother had suggested that I was about to be initiated into new levels of erotic experience that evening, I quietly scanned the banquet with one thought in mind: Which of these men will Mother bring to my chamber?

None was as attractive as Belbouche, whose cock I'd sucked that morning before watching him sodomize Duchess Ilsa on my bed. Unlike Father, who was a trim and fastidious figure even in his late forties, most of his middle-aged aristocratic contemporaries were wastrels of one form or another: Drunks, gluttons, brutes or whoremongers. I tried to imagine any one of them pinning me to the bed and fucking my ass the way I'd watched Belbouche treat my childhood friend.

No matter what Mother had said about my mind determining whether or not the act would be pleasurable, I couldn't conjure an exciting fantasy of any of them.

After the meal father summoned another keg of ale for his guests, but rather than stay to drink it, he did something unusual and led me and Mother out of the banquet and down the hall to our family chapel. He spoke not a word as we walked, and Mother avoided my eyes.

I began to worry that Mother's promise of something memorable might turn out to be less of a promise and more of a threat. After all, since leaving the convent the day before, I'd been induced against my better judgment to take two cocks in my mouth, dreaded and enjoyed the sight of my mother bringing a page to climax orally, and witnessed the suprisingly pleasurable sodomy of a childhood friend.

What if this was all just a test of my purity, and I'd failed it utterly?

Which was why, upon entering the little chapel, I gave a sudden shriek at what I found waiting there: An enormous, bald, terrifying Teutonic monk with a braided white beard, accompanied by a fierce young nun in a conservative habit that revealed only her face, and barely that.

"Manners!" Mother snapped, smacking my hand, as Father shut the door behind us.

"I don't want to explain it to her," Father said to Mother.

"Then I shall proceed," Mother said. "Catherine, this is Brother Mannhaft and Sister Brunnene from the Order of the Teutonic Cross. It was their arrival that sent me to retrieve you from the convent. Brother Mannhaft, would you tell our daughter your purpose here, please?"

"Two weeks ago, I was present at court when Baron Pruden accused your father of buggering two of his private guardsmen during a recent encampment. The King was initially skeptical, but then Bishop Reus declared that your father had recently sodomized two parish priests and a friar. During Lent. And finally, Viscount du Monay claimed that he'd been present at a Midsummer bachelor party, during which your father fucked a sheep, a cow, and the groom-to-be, in that order."

"And that's a damnable lie!" Father interjected. "The sheep was just a joke, and there were absolutely no cows present."

"In short, dear," Mother interrupted, "Your father will fuck practically anyting, and women are somewhat down the list. We are in debt to Brother Mannhaft, who rushed here to deliver the news in order that we might respond to these truthful yet absolutely scurrilous charges well before they reach the Pope."

"The POPE?" I exclaimed.

Father rolled his eyes.

"Lady Catherine," Brother Mannhaft said, offering me a curt, martial bow. "I fought alongside your father at the Siege of Ottmanstan and the Battle of Agincunt. He is as brave and capable a fighter as I've ever met. It was my duty to bring a warning of the plot against him."

"But you are a holy man!" I said, astounded.

"Yeah, whatever," he said, waving off my objection. "It was that or prison."

"The Order of the Teutonic Cross isn't exactly picky when it comes to piety," Father groused. "And Manny here isn't exactly a shining example of chastity and virtue."

"This is why we had to bring you home from the convent," Mother said. "Our family name is doomed unless we lock down some new alliances. And considering the shitshow that's about to hit Norman Hall, you're the last, best asset at our disposal."

"Only tell me what I must do, and I shall do it," I vowed. "For the family."

"I'll leave you to it, then," Father said. "My other guests are gonna be swinging from the rafters and pissing on the walls if I don't get back to the banquet hall soon."

And with those words, he was gone, leaving me in the candlelit family chapel with my wimple-wearing mother, a giant graybeard knight from a dubious holy order, and an unnervingly intense young nun whose eyes felt like they were boring holes into the side of my face.

"How do you wish to proceed, Brother?" Mother asked.

"I rather like the idea of using your family pew, Lady Beatrice," he replied.

"Using it for what?" I demanded.

"Remember what I demonstrated this morning?" Mother asked.

"You mean Captain Belbouche assfucking the duchess on my bed?"

"Brother Mannhaft is not your typical monk," she replied. "And the Order of the Teutonic Cross isn't your typical religious organization."

"What she means to say, young lady, is that as much as I appreciate your Father saving my life at Broadmoor Bridge, he owes me, too," Mannhaft said. "I expect some compensation for my sacrifices."

"I'm sorry, dear," Mother said. "Your Father offered the good Brother my services again, but he was in the mood for something a bit younger on this visi./"

"Nothing wrong with your Mother," he said. "But I recalled you from my last visit to Norman Hall six years ago. I'd ever seen something so beautiful."

"Brother Mannhaft wasn't the only man to take notice, Catherine," Mother said. "That's why I chose to stash you away at the convent."

I began to cry.

"Please Mother," I begged. "Stay by my side until it's over."

"Afraid not, honey," she replied, squeezing my hands and then releasing them. "But you'll be fine. I speak from experience."

She turned to face our visitors.

"Remember our agreement: Her mouth, then her ass, GENTLY, and absolutely NOTHING that might break her hymen. Anything goes up her pussy, and neither of you will leave this house in anything except in a wooden box. Are we clear?"

Brother Mannhaft laughed, then smacked Mother on her rump.

"Good to see you again, Bea. It's been too long."

"You're incorrigible," she said, swatting at him. Then she kissed me on the cheek, and closed the chapel door behind her. Leaving me alone in a holy chapel with a leering man-mountain and a freaky nun.

Father was taller than average for a man in our shire, standing at least 5 feet 9 inches in his stocking feet. Not quite as tall or strong as Belbouche, who probably weighed at least 170 or 180 pounds.

But Mannshaft was a Goliath: He must have been more than 6 feet 2 inches tall, and I later learned that he weighed more than 270 pounds. He wasn't lean and trim like Belbouche, but he wasn't fat either. Rather, he was a strong, thick-necked bull of a man, with heavy, muscular shoulders and a chest like a salt-pork barrel. Even his head was enormous, as were his hands, one of which descended to grasp my chin and hold it in place as he bent to kiss my mouth.

His lips were full and warm.

"Alright Broo," he said to the nun as his sharp blue eyes gazed into mine. "Have at her."

His female companion, her form hidden by an untailored black habit that fell like a curtain from her shoulders to the floor, cast off her outer garment in a single flourish, revealing her as a surprisingly feminine figure: A bit on the emaciated side, with skin as pale as a trout's belly and long, lean muscles in her arms, but also very much a woman. Her pendulous breasts were large for a woman so thin, and she had actual hips.

The nun's hair - it was long and brown and pulled back in a bun, which she quickly released - had a softening effect, and her face was not unattractive. But there was still something alarming about her. She moved in a way that seemed feral and furtive, like a burrowing mammal that only ventures above ground at twilight.

She scurried directly toward my pussy, as if she were dying of thirst and rushing to drink from a puddle.

Without pausing to think about it, I cuffed her a wallop to the side of her head. The semi-nude nun recoiled and recovered, but before I could strike her again, the massive monk snatched my wrist in mid-swipe.

"Broo is my friend," he said softly. "She'll do you no harm. So you'll relax and let her please you. Because it pleases me."

Again, I wasn't sure why, but I moved to slap him. Another bad idea. He caught that blow by my other wrist, then straightened and lifted me suddenly off the ground by my arms: In a flash I was propelled upward and around, and without ever releasing my wrists he wrapped his arms around my torso as I descended and hugged my back hard into his chest. My legs were free, but his all-encompassing embrace fluctuated between firm and crushing.

Eventually I stopped struggling, and Brother Mannhaft stopped squeezing me so tightly and lowered himself onto the pew. He kept his knees locked tightly together, which had the effect of forcing my legs to part on either side of his now-horizontal thighs. But when I grew still and quiet, he nuzzled the nape of my neck, and then kissed it.

"Good girl," he whispered in my ear.

"I'm scared," I whispered.

"That's alright," he rasped back. "I'm a scary man. And Broo's a bit much at first, too. But if you relax and trust us, you'll find we're really quite friendly. Isn't that right, Broo?"

The skittish nun nodded enthusiastically.

"Alright Broo," he said. "Raise her skirts. And young lady, I'll need you to lift your rump so she can push those skirts up above your waist."

"What's going to happen to me?" I quivered.

"It's all very simple," he replied. "Broo's going to lick your pussy, and once you're excited enough, I'm going to slide my cock up your ass. Before you know it, you'll be overtaken by your first little death. And what happens after that is anyone's guess. Don't that sound inviting?"

Truth be told, it did. The sensitive bud atop my slit was throbbing for attention, and my pussy was already wet. The man restraining me had arms like iron bands - struggling against them was pointless. And now that I was perched upon his lap, I could feel his penis stiffening beneath his robes and trousers. Not nearly as large as Belbouche's massive sceptre, and certainly not proportional to Mannhaft's other measurements, but more than large enough - as I would soon learn - to qualify as "normal."

"Don't fight it, little bird," he whispered in my ear.

And so I relented, still frightened, yet almost grateful to be taken this way: Snug and close in the giant's arms. I closed my eyes and let Sister Brunnene do her work, gathering up my dress and the underskirt beneath, and pushing them up my thighs. When they reached the top of my legs I raised my rump to let her push them above my butt to gather around my waist, leaving my legs and privates utterly bare.

Then, without further prompting, I spread my legs.

"Good girl," Mannhaft whispered again, this time taking a playful bite at my earlobe. "Alright Broo. Begin."

I kept my eyes pressed shut as my seduction unfolded.

The nun, who had seemed jittery before, now slowed her movements as her hands stroked up my thighs. And when Mannhaft spread his legs to give her room to kneel between them, she moved into the gap and lowered her face to kiss the pubic fur of my delta. It felt like lightning descending from the heavens.

When she lowered her head again to put herself face-to-face with my sex, I gasped. Mannhaft grasped me tighter.

I knew what was coming. I just didn't know what it would feel like.

But once it began, I didn't want it to stop.

I didn't want the long, slow licks up my pussy lips to stop. I didn't want the tongue swirling around my sensitive bulb to stop. And when she placed her lips over that bulb and sucked, until that bulb and all its tingling, jangling nerves were drawn into her pursed-lip mouth, I didn't want that to stop. Ever.

Soon I was wild and mindless, grinding my pussy into Sister Broo's face, forgetting everything Mother and Duchess Ilsa had warned about breaking my hymen. I wanted the nun's fingers to fuck me. I wanted Mannhaft's cock to fuck me. I wanted something, anything, inside me. Juice from my pussy flowed down my slit, and then there was the nun's finger, collecting that juice from the outside of my pussy and directing it down, down to my ass, where her fingertips now darted and played and teased.

I ground my hips forward, trying to trap those fingers, trying to slide my butthole down onto them. And at first they teased, slipping barely inside, but not all the way, not far enough, while the nun licked and sucked my most sensitive place.

And then there was Mannhaft's erection, pressing hard against the cleavage of my butt cheeks, while the bearded monk's lips kissed my sensitive, yearning neck.

"Do you understand what's going to happen to you?" he whispered.

"You're going to fuck my ass," I panted.

"Yes."

"And she's going to lick my pussy." I couldn't believe my mouth had actually spoken the words. "She's going to lick my pussy while you fuck my ass."

The moment I said that, Sister Broo ran her middle finger up my ass, stopping at the first knuckle. And I almost lost my mind.

"She just put her finger up your bum, didn't she?" Mannhaft whispered. I nodded wildly.

"Alright then: Hold on," he said, lifting his hips, with me atop them, up off the pew. "Broo, it's my turn. Pull my pants down."

The nun made a guttural sound, withdrew her finger from my ass, and began tugging the big man's trousers down. When he lowered himself back to a seated position on the bare pew, I felt his cock warm beneath my rump.

And I wanted it up my ass, just like Ilsa had taken Belbouche all the way into hers.

"Take it, Broo," he said. "Slick it up and line it up."

This required me lifting my hips to free his erect mucsle, which the nun immediately took into her mouth. I wished I could watch, but I could sense the outlines of what was happening as she moved between my open thighs and beneath them, first bobbing her lips on his cock, then licking down the shaft to nuzzle and kiss his balls.

Then she spit on his member, first stroking it with both her hands, then dividing her attentions. She ran two fingers up my ass and licked my buzzing bulb, all while using to free hand to reposition his cock. Soon everything was a blur of sensations: Her mouth driving me mad, her fingers all the way up my ass, and the tip of Mannhaft's cock, right there at the empty opening to my wet and ready pussy, teasing and teasing and just one thrust away from penetrating me, filling me, breaking my hymen and all those promises.

I wanted it. I wanted it. I tried to trap his cock, tried to move my hips to position them to take him in with a single maneuver.

"Oh no you don't," he said. "Line me up, Broo."

And she did, placing the tip of his cock against my rosebud. I shifted my hips and felt my opening spread, just a bit. He shifted his hips under her direction, and I felt the universe align: His penis, hard as a diamond, positioned beneath my ass, phallus and void together describing a single line. I relaxed a bit and he pushed a bit, and I could feel my sphincter begin to yield.

Sister Broo, who had paused to observe, returned her oral attentions to my pussy. And now it felt as if the cosmos was collapsing, as if my body no longer belonged to my mind. I began grinding into that dick, taking more.

And yes it hurt, but the aching need to be filled and fucked felt more powerful still. I was fully spread. He was in me past the tip. And I wanted the rest and feared the rest.

I was thinking about taking that cock deeper with my own motion when Mannhaft simply decided that the time for gently introducing his organ to my tight bunghole had passed. He signalled his intent when I felt his enfolding arms tighten to pin me. I whimpered a bit as I felt him rock back, withdrawing the head of his organ until it was almost free.

And then came the first full thrust, impaling me to the hilt.

White pain. White pain and an incalculable presence deep inside me, penetrating, torturing, not merely pressure but heat, as if the presence of his penis was a flame. I wanted to escape it, to climb off it, out of my skin, out of the world, this pain...

...inside me...

... becoming pleasurable, as Broo sucked and licked my now frantic bud...

... and this wave of indescribable pleasure, gathering in the darkness offshore, now rushing toward me, engulfing me...

...and Mannhaft's hard penis, responding to my now bucking, convulsing, confused body, moving faster, thrusting harder. His breath, hot and close behind my ear. Broo's lips and tongue, nowhere and everywhere all at once, pleasure and pain and desire and fear becoming...

An explosion.

I don't recall how long it lasted, or what sounds I made. I remember eventually Broo backed away, and in my wild contortions Mannhaft popped out of my butt.

When I regained my composure, I was twitching on my back, reclined along the family pew, while Broo and Mannhaft stood above me, gazing down at me and smiling.

"Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus," I gasped. "What was that?"

"The little death," Mannhaft said. "For you. And now it's our turn."

"What?"

"You finished before me," he said, reaching down to grasp my wrist and pull me up. "So now I'm going to finish inside you. And the Good Sister has worked very hard. Doesn't she deserve favor?"

"Wait, no..." I said as he pulled me up and bent me over the pew.

"This is how things work, young lady," he said. "If you finish first, you still have to assist your partner. It's called..." and then he paused as he pushed his still-slick cock up my ass "... MANNERS!"

His treatment was less than kind, but still a necessary lesson. Without my aroused body and mind driving my desire, the pounding my ass received was no longer a painful pleasure but an overlong punishment. All told it probably lasted less than a minute, and he finished much like Belbouche had, with sharp, fast, short thrusts. I felt the warmth of his semen gush inside me several times, and when he withdrew I slumped back into the pew.

Beside me, Sister Broo gazed desperately into my eyes as she rubbed herself.

"Aren't you going to help a sister out?" the monk asked.

"I... I... don't..."

"What a precious princess," he scoffed, then shoved me aside and buried his face in his companion's sex. Within thirty seconds Broo was convulsing, wrapping her legs around the warrior's broad back, intertwining her ankles, curling her toes, pushing his head hard into her crotch. But she made not a sound, merely climaxing and receding.

Within a minute, they were both more or less back to normal, and with a friendly handclasp, they thanked each other.

"Who are you two?"

"Cousins," Brother Mannhaft replied as he cinched up his trousers beneath his monk's robes. "A poor fit in our village, so we joined the only fighting order that accepted both men and women. Although in theory, she's supposed to nurse, not fight. But since she doesn't speak, no one seems to mind. You're good with a sword, aren't you, Broo?"

The nun smiled and flexed her muscles for me.

"How's your ass, pretty princess?" he asked.

"Sore," I replied.

"Normal," he said. "Worth it?"

My first thought was a recollection of the big man using my little ass as his personal pleasure receptacle, and I almost chided him. But then I recalled the events leading up to that, and the blissful, expanding and infinite Divine Spheres through which I'd traveled during my first little death.