tagNonConsent/ReluctanceAbsolution For Sister Angel

Absolution For Sister Angel


Rosary clasped in her hand, Sister Angela knelt by the side of the bed. "Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen. …" The words were said mechanically. Her heart was heavy, she said each of the prescribed rosary prayers, no longer believing that forgiveness would be forthcoming.

She was angry. Not with Honey Donovan, known to all as HD; or with Ratty; or with the young prospect Clem; or the giant red-bearded Viking; not even with Donkey; or Chain: nor any other member of The Jokers Wild Motocycle Club. No, she was angry with herself, fifteen years as a missionary sister working in the community, a year of working with biker gangs had made her arrogant. For it was as a Nun she was praying for forgiveness and that made her angry. She had been subjected to a multiple rape - a Gang Bang and yet she felt that she was guilty.

Her Mother Superior, whom she saw rarely had warned her against getting too close to the people she worked with. But she had shrugged off the advice, just as she had ignored advice to ride her motorcycle with care.

The motorcycle had indirectly been the cause of her predicament. She had been working with drug addicts, a task that involved travelling daily visiting addicts and their families in their homes. A co-worker had offered to give her his old motorcycle - a little commuter bike. Not only had the little motorcycle solved her travel problems, but it had also brought to her a sense of freedom she had never before known.

Her order was not a closed order living a contemplative cloistered life. It was an apostate order doing practical work in the community. Sisters wore every day sensible clothes. Usually she only donned her Habit when going on a retreat. So wearing the correct clothing on her bike had never been a problem. On passing her test she obtained a bigger bike - her dream, a Honda 400 Super Dream. Some of her drug addict clients were bikers, which had led to a new project working with as a missionary to the bikers. A project that in the last year had given her even greater freedom, she had attended motorcycle rallies, biker’s parties. Talking people down off "bad trips", had bandaged bloodied heads, and comforted bereaved or discarded girl-friends, sometimes girls who had been the victim of a gang rape.

Joker's Wild were the local outlaw motorcycle club, and they had soon come to accept her and she in turn had given them trust. She had got to know all of them by name and she had taken it as a mark of their acceptance that they had dubbed her Sister Angel and given her a set of their colours to wear. Now they had betrayed that trust as she had betrayed her vows.

Chain, the club’s President known as Chief Jester had invited her to the party. "Hey Sister Angel we are having a party Friday night do you want to come along?"

Despite the reservations Mother Superior had previously expressed she accepted the invitation, there was no reason for her not to. She had partied with the club before, enjoyed the drink and had avoided the marijuana joints.

The next day Chain had rung her again. "It’s about the party." He said.

"Is it cancelled."

"No it’s just that we have decided to make it a fancy dress bash, Vicars and Tarts."

"That’s no problem." She had replied. When she put the phone down her imagination had been working overtime. Vicars and Tarts - well she could go one better than everyone else. She would give them all a surprise.

She took a taxi to the party, she always did it would have caused ructions if she were to get arrested for drunk driving.

Her appearing in her Habit complete with an old style winged Wimple created a stir. Most of the club members had never seen her wearing any clothes other than everyday street clothes - jeans and sweatshirt. After consuming half a bottle of Bushmills, her favourite tipple, she caused a sensation. HD, a tall red-head biker lady, who could fight as well as any man including her brother Viking, who had always been antagonistic towards her came over and said. "Hey Sister this is meant to be a Vicars and Tarts party, I didn’t hear a mention of Nuns or have you got a special dispensation?" HD was wearing a home-made clerical dog-collar and her current paramour was clad only in a leather skirt her breasts swinging free. "See I’m a Vicar she’s a Tart."

"I hate to disappoint you HD but I’m a Tart too." She lifted the hem of her Habit to reveal the red garter encircling her thigh. HD was not the only person who saw her lifting the hem, and her action provoked a chorus of whoops and whistles. HD, defeated in her attempt to humiliate Angela, glowered, with her blond girlfriend she retreated into a corner. Meanwhile the garter had caused many of the male bikers to come over.

She might have been a Nun but she was also a woman, a middle aged woman. Her mind slightly befuddled by the Whiskey, she was flattered by the attention of so many young men and on several more occasions lifted the hem to reveal her garter.

The Bushmills bottle drained, she accepted any drinks she was offered. As far as she could recall it was HD’s bare-breasted girlfriend who brought over the last drink she accepted.

No sooner had she drunk it than she realised it had been spiked. The room spun. Her vision blurred. The noise of people talking seemed to become distant. Her stomach churned. She stood-up intending either to go outside for fresh air or to the toilet - she could not remember which. She was falling. Ratty a short greasy, unwashed individual caught her. She recalled the smell of his foul breath. HD was also supporting her. She tried to thank them.

They half carried, half dragged her to a bedroom flinging her none too gently onto the bed. She tried to resist as she felt her Habit being lifted but her arm muscles failed to obey her brain. "Hey I thought Nuns didn’t wear panties!" HD exclaimed as she pulled off Angela’s panties. Angela forced her eyes to focus when she felt her legs being parted.

HD was kneeling between her legs, she had removed her jeans and a large dildo projected from between her legs. "A bride of Christ - your going to be my bride now." The big woman gloated. "Lift her legs Ratty."

Ratty lifted Angela’s legs until her ankles were beside her ears. "Babe you’ve got good pins for a woman of your age."

She was aware that HD was using her fingers in an attempt to stimulate a sexual response from her. Determined not to respond she began to pray. "Our father who is in …"

HD’s fist slammed into her face. "Shut up bitch." HD’s pelvis bore down on her ramming the dildo into her virgin vagina. The pain was excruciating. Angela felt as if she was being split in two with a hot knife. Then the pain became a blinding flash, something let go, HD’s pelvic bone smashed into her pelvis - Angela knew she was no longer a virgin.

Angela had heard it claimed, the positive aspect of lesbian sex, was that women were more gentle and caring towards their sex partners: as HD energetically thrust the dildo into her, she wished that HD had heard the same thing; the monstrous cylinder seemed to be embedded in her womb its tip butting against the inside of her navel.

Angela knew that provided she did not enjoy the experience she would still have kept her vow of chastity. For a state of grace was in the mind not the body, just as one could sin by thought alone so one could remain pure in mind regardless of what the body did unwillingly. "Dear Mary please don’t let me enjoy this. Allow me to come through this ordeal pure in mind. Amen." Adding to herself, "If there is a God up there he won’t allow my body to get any enjoyment from this experience."

Honey Donovan knew the pain she was inflicting upon her victim. Normally when she used the double ended dildo it would be liberally coated with lubricant, indeed she had put KY on the end she had inserted in herself. She wanted to extract revenge upon Sister Angel, the saintly middle aged woman who had so easily gained the acceptance, she Honey had, had to fight for. Even Viking, her own brother had given her a hard time when she first wanted to join the club. At that time the bikers’ and club’s belief was that a woman’s place was on her back, or on the pillion. Honey had done neither willingly and had fought hard to be recognised as a biker in her own right. For her the price of acceptance had been high, before she had got her colours and name HD, she had been forced to have sex with all the club officers, including Viking the club’s Sergeant-at-Arms. Then Sister Angel had appeared on the scene, and without any degrading initiation rites had been given her colours. Honey hated her and wanted her to hurt at least as much as she had been hurt.

The pain of HD’s thrusts were minor compared to the pain she felt when eventually the vinyl instrument was withdrawn.

The relief was only temporary, she was not even able to lower her legs. HD moved to the head of the bed and took hold of her ankles. Ratty undid his belt opened his jeans, took out his ramrod hard penis, which even to Angela appeared diminutive when compared to the dildo that still projected from between HD’s legs. "Please no." Angela gasped.

"Shut up or I’ll gag you with this." Said HD indicating the dildo.

Ratty’s rank breath assaulted her nostrils, sickening her. At least his penis did not hurt as much as the dildo had. HD let go of her ankles so the backs of her knees were on Ratty’s shoulders. Certain that her ordeal would soon be over Angela deliberately refrained from moving.

She thought it was her imagination that she could hear voices and there seemed to be more people in the room. Ratty came with a grunt, for the first time she felt hot spunk pulsing into her. "Hurry up Rat." A voice said.

No sooner had Ratty got off her, than another biker took his place. At least his breath did not smell. Although the biker already excited from watching Ratty came relatively quickly it seemed to Angela that an eternity passed before once again she felt the warm goblets of fluid splatter her womb.

She thought she was going to die when Donkey knelt between her legs with an open switchblade in his hand. He grasped the neck of her Habit and slashed the material down to her waist, pulling open the torn garment. She felt the cold blade touch the skin of her cleavage. She felt a wave of relief - she realised she was not going to die. Donkey had brought the blade upwards cutting the material that joined the cups of her bra. His head sank onto her bare breasts. The pain was intense as he began to kiss and bite the untouched flesh.

"I want a virgin." Donkey exclaimed he said to a young club prospect. "Clem turn her across the bed." They turned her across the bed, her unsupported head hung back over the edge. Donkey clamped her cheeks between his hands. "Open your mouth Sister Angel."

Angela clamped her teeth shut. Her defiance was short lived Donkey let go of her face. Grasped her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, then began to twist them. Angela thought that he was going to literally rip them from her body. "Get in her cunt boy." He growled at the youngster who was still prospecting for membership of the club. "Now Sister Angel open your mouth." Still her teeth were clenched. Releasing her nipples, with his open hands he administered six heavy slaps - three to each of her breasts. Each slap knocked the wind from her. "Now open wide - just think of it as taking communion."

There was no alternative, she opened her mouth. Again he clamped her head with a vice like grip. She did not know how she could get her mouth around his swollen shaft, from which his nickname was derived. Donkey’s prick was like an old gnarled tree branch, the massive blood vessels that criss-crossed it giving its surface the texture of bark.

She had heard some of the girls claim that it was over twelve inches long. Lying there with a close-up view she could see no reason to doubt their claims. She thought she was going to die as he forced his engorged organ into her mouth, pushing hard until by sheer brute force the tip was effectively blocking her throat. He stroked her Adams apple which made her involuntarily swallow, satisfied he had lodged himself as deep as possible he began to rock his hips. She discovered she could breathe shallowly if she timed her breaths to his movements.

She was barely aware that Clem had finished and another biker had entered her. The prick in her throat was causing her to urge, the contractions of her throat muscles seemed to further stimulate Donkey whose thrusts became more urgent and of increased speed.

It felt as though she was going to drown when the thick fluid jetted into her throat, she had to swallow or drown. Each gulp seemed to draw Donkey’s still erect prick deeper down her throat. She was horrified to hear, Donkey say. "Sweet Jesus lady you are a natural." Once again he began to thrust with his hips, his taught testicles in their wrinkled sack slapping into her nose. She had been assuring herself that as long as she did nothing she was keeping her vow of chastity, if her swallowing stimulated him was she breaking that vow?

Vaguely she was aware that yet another biker had deposited his seed within her and allowed another to enter her. Wet, stinging stickiness coursed between her legs. Donkey thrust his prick into her throat with long languid strokes. "Brothers your attention please." Donkey boomed. "I just want to tell you all this lady gives the best head I’ve ever had."

Angela felt a movement on the bed beside her. "Get off me you bastard." HD protested. Then she heard Chain say. "Shut your trap."

The mattress heaved, she could hear muffled grunts, groans and choked off screams. Angela her vision blinkered by Donkey’s thighs and scrotum did not know what was happening, but as the mattress began to move rhythmically she guessed someone else was having sex on the bed next to her. Her perceptions were further confused as the men between her thighs changed over after discharging their spunk into her.

It seemed an eternity before the sweet salty fluid spurted into her throat again. This time Donkey’s prick went soft and retracted. He pulled out of her and let her head fall back.

She turned her head to see HD face down on the mattress Chain had mounted her from behind. As he drove into her he was saying. "You wanted sex like a man. Now I am making a real man out of you." HD’s reply was muffled as her face was being pushed into the bed, but Angela was sure that she heard a muffled threat to bugger Chain.

A brief feeling of exaltation flitted through her consciousness, before again she was aware of the movement in her vagina. And the flushed bearded face of her present abuser. From waist down she felt numb, as if she were made of stone. The only real pain came from her cramped elevated legs. But the relief to her aching jaw was short lived. Vincent the one eyed air-brush artist took Donkey’s place, his prick was smaller and he was not so rough. Determined to maintain her vows she did nothing to assist him. His spunk bubbled out of her mouth trickling along her cheekbone, past the corner of her eye, matting in her hair.

"You’ve got no technique." Donkey said critically. "Drive it in man then she’ll start to swallow and you get a lovely ride. Isn’t that right Sister Angel?" Viking leered. If looks could have killed Viking would have been poleaxed. He was insensitive to her glare. "Don’t worry this’ll be ready for you again in a few moments."

Between her legs Angela was aware of a different sensation something cool, some sort of balm was being applied to her, fingers were massaging with a circular motion. She looked down red bearded Viking was kneeling between her thighs. "You like this Sister Angel?" He grinned.

These were the first kind words that had been said to her and she responded in kind, only to be betrayed when one of Viking’s lubricated fingers began to enter her anus. Divining his intention she prayed even harder. "Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen." Followed by the prayer she had been saying from the outset of her ordeal. "Dear Mary please don’t let me enjoy this. Allow me to come through this ordeal pure in mind. Amen."

Viking lifted her hips, doubling her over and pushing her legs down until her knees nearly touched her shoulders. She could feel Viking’s prick butting against her puckered anus. She tensed clenching her butt muscles tight. Someone grabbed her legs. She could feel Viking’s hands forcing the cheeks of her arse apart, eventually the tension was too much to endure, involuntarily she half relaxed. There was a searing pain and non too gently Viking forced himself into her. She clenched stopping his progress, but as soon as she relaxed he pushed deeper. Again she clenched, again he was stopped, again she relaxed and he drove deeper. Her legs were somewhere round his neck.

The pain subsided somewhat and Viking moved gently inside her. "There you are Sister Angel the best sex going. They say it’s only for connoisseurs and I am a connoisseur. You’ve got a lovely butt and a nice motion with your ass muscles."

The room seemed to be emptying, but Viking just kept on moving inside her. When he came she felt the gobbets of warm fluid splattering her insides. The sensation was no longer unpleasant, inside she felt wet and warm, the fluid seemed to be forming a warm pool. When she felt his cock soften she expected him to get off her, but Viking just lay still. With his hands he began to play with her breasts kneading them, kissing them. She felt warm. "Don’t do that please don’t." She pleaded, silently repeating her mantra, "Dear Mary please don’t let me enjoy this. Allow me to come through this ordeal pure in mind. Amen."

When his prick had hardened to his satisfaction he began to move again, slowly gently without violence, without urgency. God I wish he would be rough with me, Angela thought, rape I can cope with but gentleness is more difficult.

When eventually Viking’s soft prick fell from her with a soft "plop" Angela felt relieved - she was still pure in mind. "Shower’s next door." Said Viking as he buckled the belt of his jeans.

She lay on the bed making no attempt to cover her nakedness. She felt numbed, too numb to weep as she had seen other women do. Proud that she had kept her vows, it would have been so easy to relax with Viking. Then the practical thoughts kicked in, what if she was pregnant, physically she was not too old. What about disease? To the best of her knowledge non were HIV positive, but you could never be sure and there were other diseases.

It was these practical thoughts that motivated her to get up from the bed. As she got up, she had the first inkling of the mess she was in. She had to peel away the cover on which she lay, it had become glued to her with body fluids.

No sooner was she in the shower than two of the other women appeared. "Are you all right?" asked HD’s blond paramour. Angela relaxing under the warm spray nodded. The women made no move to leave so Angela carried on showering.

"It hurts first time don’t it?" The other woman Tina said. Angela nodded. "If I was you I’d turn the shower to full power, unhook the shower-head, open your legs wide and spray it all up around your pussy. Hold yourself open you want the water inside you."

Angela followed Tina’s instructions. She knew that they had come in as a sign of solidarity with her. Soon an older woman Marlene joined them, she fished in her bag and extracted a douche. "Being a Nun I don’t expect you’ve got one of these, but if you want to use this Sister Angel you’re welcome." Despite her theoretical knowledge Angela realised that her practical knowledge was woefully inadequate and Marlene had to give Angela step by step instructions on the use of a douche. "And tomorrow go to the doctors or casualty and get a morning after pill." Tina advised.

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