Nina Part Two

I took a moment to familiarise myself with my surroundings. The central chamber that my cell overlooked was a semi-circular shape. Along the curved wall, there were several doors, including the grille at which I had seen Charity and Angelica with the priest. The length of the straight wall was taken up with a large carved fresco of the goddess Fahni, watching over the wickedness of the world. The central figure of Fahni was very large, and voluptuously portrayed with large round tits and a wide arse. All around her, groups of men, women, elves, centaurs, satyrs, nymphs, dryads, goat-men and other creatures cavorted, danced and coupled. It would have taken a year to count the number of bare breasts, throbbing cocks, gaping cunts and rounded buttocks on display, and yet each had been individually and carefully portrayed. They were all of a prodigious quality as well (as far as I could judge). The artist must have had plenty of clay, and enough pink paint to float a warship.

Looking up, I could see that the same painter had also completely covered the ceiling in a frieze, although it was hard to make much out since the chamber was so poorly lit above head height. Even so, at the edges of the ceiling I could see many of the lesser gods, and it wasn't hard to work out that the ceiling portrayed the many deities of Mammari looking down on Fahni and the mortals around her. Several of the gods appeared very interested in what they could see.

At Fahni's feet, there was an altar made of stone in the shape of a man and woman sleeping side by side, head to toe. The carving was very worn. Below the altar, there was a sunken pool, surrounded by an area strewn with cushions, rugs and other soft furnishings.

I padded lightly across the stone floor. Somehow, my master had found a way into this scared place, even though the sisters of Fahni were not supposed to have any contact with men, except for the visits of the High Priest, Cardinal Synne, or the other confessor priests. And where there was a way in, there had to be a way out.

I was considering which of the several doors to try, when one opened. I was lucky; it would have been a proper reward for my carelessness if I had been discovered by someone less sympathetic, but it proved to be none other than Sister Charity. I think she was even more surprised than me!

She skipped quickly across the room, taking me by the arm into the shadows of one of the room's supporting pillars. "What are you doing here?" she whispered, somewhat angrily. "Master Tumescence told us you had been rescued!"

"So I was," I replied. "But I was captured again." I commenced to tell her the whole story, but she stopped me when I described the red-haired man I had watched briefly. "But that was him... the artist Master Bator Ð the man you were sent to find!" I gasped at my stupidity and bad luck. Not only was the red-haired man the object of my uninformed but very heated desire, but he was the man I had been sent to find, the one who was to illustrate the new copy of the Orgasmus! If I hadn't paniced when he saw him, wouldn't have been recaptured by Grope at all. In fact, my predicament could have been a whole lot more pleasant.

In reality, though, I had fouled up badly, and things were about to get worse.

"What's more," hissed Charity, "he's the one who rescued you the first time. That wasn't one of Grope's spies who came into your room before, it was Bator! And you hit him with a bucket!" Charity laughed, her mass of black curls bouncing as she threw her head back. I was minded to scold her for being so cruel, but a nagging fear gripped me, and I looked up towards the dark ceiling and the narrow aperture that I had fled through. If it had been Bator who had rescued me before, then might it not be...

"You have to get me out of here!" I whimpered, plucking at Charity's sleeve. Her laughter subsided, and she put her arms around me to comfort me. "Don't worry," she replied. "We'll help you escape again." She kissed me tenderly on my forehead, and it was in that moment that a soft cough came from the other side of the chamber.

We both looked round. There was a man at the gate, the same red-garbed priest who taken Charity's confession before. "Damnation!" she swore, her voice low. "It's Father ÔTwo Times'" I glanced at her, puzzled. "That's not his real name, but it's what we call him. He's always ready for the "second cumming". She giggled. I giggled too, but I had no idea why.

The priest grew impatient. From this closer vantage point, I could see his large, florid face peering through the bars of the heavy gate. I feared I was about to be uncovered.

Charity took my hand, and led me towards the gate. "Do as I do!" she hissed. Moments later, we were both on our knees in front of the gate, eyes tight closed, and the priest was laying his jewelled hands on the crowns of our heads.

"What is going on here, sisters? I came to hear your confession, and find you engaged in some conspiratorial conversation. What's more, one of you is disrobed!"

"O Father," wailed Charity, "we have sinned mightily. I wish to confess all, so that my wicked ways can be punished properly."

"Very well, child. Speak."

I heard Charity shuffle forward on her knees. I opened my eyes a fraction, and saw that she was pressing her face close to the bars of the gate, and that the priest was pulling up his robe. Did this mean I was to be first to tell a tale? No, Charity began speaking before the priest had exposed himself, and clutched his robe so that he could not move away from her.

"Father, we have both been troubled by more strange dreams. Last night, I dreamed I was among the elf people of Cunnigularis. They held me prisoner in their tree city, and prepared me for a terrible rite.

"My body was annointed with oils, and painted with strange patterns. Three strong women held me down while their shaman did his work with ink and brush. He painted three long shapes on my face, one on each cheek and one up my chin, and even worked the brush inside my mouth and over my tongue. Then he drew upon my arms and hands, and I saw that these were large cocks that he portrayed, monstrous elven tools of great length, pale and muscular. There were small cocks in the folds of my elbows, and greater ones upon my forearms, their tips drawn upon my palm, each with a large eye at its hooded crest.

He drew more cocks on my breasts, and many more on my thighs. Two more he placed upon the soles of my feet. Then he fashioned another on my belly, the largest of them all so far, pointing down so that the shaft was drawn across my navel, over my mound, and down into the cleft between my legs. The elven women held me more tightly, and drew my legs apart, while the shaman worked his brush into my cunt, flicking lightly over my clit and the folds of my womanhood. I struggled a little, but the women were too strong, and they forced me to endure this most terrible violation."

By now, Charity had exposed the priest's stubby organ, and was turning it idly in her hand. The priest was not yet wholly erect, perhaps puzzled, as was I, by where Charity's tale was leading. She planted a small kiss on the glans, and continued with her "confession".

"Then I was turned over onto my belly, and still more cocks were added to my legs, to the backs of my knees. Finally, I felt a large shape drawn down the length of my spine, with great balls across my sholders. And then..."

Charity shuddered and bowed her head, as if too ashamed to continue. It was a virtuoso performance, and her audience, still held fast to her by her grip on his robes, choked audibly, begging her to continue. His cock seemed to be growing with every moment.

"Speak, my daughter..."

"Two of the women held me tightly, and forced my legs apart. The third took hold of my buttocks, and pulled me wide open. Every part of me was exposed! I felt so ashamed! But the worst was yet to come. The woman dug her fingertips even deeper into the flesh of my behind, and dragged my arse open. At once, the shaman approached, and continued the design he had started on my back, down along the cleft of my bottom, and into the depths of my bum-hole."

The Temple was not a warm place, and I was completely naked, as you will recall, but I swear I felt quite hot kneeling there in front of that gate. I slipped a sly glance to my side, and saw that Charity was stroking a much larger penis now. The priest's face was ashen, and his breathing shaky.

"Once the shaman had completed his work, the women lifted me up, and carried me from the tree-house, across to a larger hall. Inside, all the elves of Cunnigularis were seated on benches along the wall, facing a central space in which there was a wooden pole, slung between two blocks, a short distance off the floor. The woman placed me astride the pole, face down, and shackled me at my wrists and ankles with vine cords. The room was hot and smoky, and I felt the eyes of all those assembled within looking at me. My belly lay along the pole, my breasts squashed on either side of it, and my backside in the air. By pushing on my hands and feet, I could lift myself a little way off the pole, but not much. There was no escape.

"The pole was worn completely smooth. I wondered how many other innocent maids had been strapped across it. What was the purpose of the device? Was I to be ravished by the elves? Tthe Elf King, who sat at the end of the hall that gave the most intimate view of my sex, had his robes unfastened, and a lithe young girl was sucking his penis, while another sat with her flank turned to his side, so that he could finger her cunt with his long fingers.

"The moments passed slowly. Suddenly, I felt the touch of skin upon my calf. I looked back, but there was no-one there. Had I imagined the touch of hot flesh, then? Perhaps, but it did not end there. Not only could I still feel something rubbing across the flesh of my leg, but now another twinge had started on one of my breasts. It felt just like someone was rubbing a thick finger across my skin. These strange sensations multiplied. The soles of my feet, the backs of my knees, my armpits, the insides of my arms... everywhere.

"Slowly I realised that wherever the shaman had painted his lewd designs, that was where the feeling was most intense. And these feelings were not just the gentle touch of fondling hands, but an urgent, pressing thrusting sensation, as if hard, determined flesh were being pressed into every fold of my body.

"By now I knew what was happening to me, and I was powerless to resist. All over my body, I could feel cocks touching me, probing me. I was being aroused in a way that would never have been possible with real lovers. How could I have accommodated so many? My flesh was being stroked and caressed from every side, every direction, and I was becoming intensely aroused. Even just thinking about having cocks stroking my armpits, or running along the backs of my knees, or pressed against my breasts, and I could feel them against me."

I knew what she meant.

"But the greatest intensity was yet to come, of course. Another of my invisible lovers had come to life, his hard flesh opening my pussy lips. It was a strange sensation, for I was not penetrated from without, but just opened out around this ghostly intruder. It filled me to the core without slipping through my lips, and I was stuffed full in an instant. Like all the other cocks that were slipping over me, it set up a gentle rhythm, stroking my clit and every curve of my cunt. I started to cum, my excitement breaking over me like a wave. Yet still my possession was not complete."

The priest groaned. Artfully, Charity increased the pace of her wanking. She had enclosed him in her fist, and was rubbing his flesh briskly. A dusky odour filled the air.

"I guessed what was to come even before I first felt the stirring presence at my rear. Just as its partner had done with my cunt, a shaft of hot flesh materialised within my arse. There was no pain from such a violation, though my shame burned like a hot knife pressed into my guts. My arse-ring opened around the invader, and I felt the ghostly flesh fill my most intimate tunnel, and press through the inner walls of my body against its cousin..."

The priest cracked his head against the bars of the gate as he lurched forward to press as much of his portly frame as he manage through to where Charity pumped his fat cock. Sensing he was close, Charity brought both tale and priest to their conclusion.

"All the elves watched me as I thrashed my limbs, and strained against the leafy bonds that held me. Fucked in every corner of my body, I came over and over again in seconds. I should have screamed loud enough to wake the dead, but for the ghost-cock that had opened up my mouth..."

Charity closed her ips over the knob of the priest's cock as the last syllable was spoken, and I knew from the way she sucked and swallowed that the priest had come into her throat. He jerked three or four times, and then rested against the bars, breathing heavily. Charity was still kneeling, but she let her hands fall to her lap. I noticed that the priest's cock, though wet with spunk and saliva, had lost little of its swollen size, though the man himself seemed to have shrunk somewhat.

When he had regained a little of his composure (or as much as he could do with his cock dangling through the gate), the priest spoke in a faltering voice.

"Such a... vivid dream, sister. Whatever hides within your soul, to feed such an imagination?"

"I don't know, father!" she wailed, piteously. "Am I so very evil, then? I have always dreaded the terrible magicks of the Elves. Is it not possible that they have enchanted me, and forced me to have such dreams?"

"That me be true," the man replied, regaining a little of his pompous rigidity, "but for such a fruit to flourish, the soil must be very fertile. You are a sinful girl, Sister Charity. I can see that we shall have to consider your punishment most carefully."

Charity bowed her head even lower, and whimpered. I wasn't so sure for a moment if her fear was real or feigned, until I caught the shadow of a grin on her spunk-stained lips.

"And what of you, sister... sister... I don't seem to be able to remember your name..."

I hadn't realised that my turn would come so soon. The priest had moved along the gate to where I knelt, my naked bum pressed against my heels, trying hard to follow the gestures of supplication Charity had made. I had to think fast. "My name is Sister Lesbia, father." Don't ask me where the name came to me from. Perhaps I had glanced it in the Orgasmus. Whatever, it had a decided effect on the priest, whose fat, wrinkled organ was recovering its full stiffness.

"Sister Lesbia... well, what is your confession? And, pray, perhaps you can tell me why you are completely naked?"

Great. Not only did I have to follow Charity's stunning performance of mixed innocence and total debauchery, but I had to find a way to explain why I wasn't wearing my robes. Normally, I am most honest when I speak to priests Ð which explains why so many of them became my closest friends in later life Ð but on this occasion I feared that the truth would both sound ridiculous and cause more problems that it solved. I bought myself a moment to think by taking the priest's cock in my hand, as Charity had done before. It was slick with a viscous liquid, and smelled of sweat. I gave its short length an experimental tug. Compared to the monster I had encountered in the cell a few days before, this was nothing to write home about.

"Um Ð the answer to both is the same sorry tale, father. I had the same terrible dream as Sister Charity." The priest wilted a little, and I looked up hurriedly to find that his expression was both disappointed and annoyed. He clearly expected another original story, and my inexperienced wanking was no compensation for my lack of imagination in that department. It looked for a moment as if I was doomed to be exposed.

"Which is why she is unclothed," interrupted Charity, just in the nick of time. "We were so amazed to find that we had shared so shameful and lustful a dream that we feared it was in some way true. As I said, I feared the elves had magicked me to their realm to conduct their debased rites upon my body. When Sister Lesbia told me that she had been troubled likewise, I became convinced that we had been transported to Cunnigularis for their obscene amusement. So I asked Sister Lesbia to disrobe, that I might look over her body for any sign of that awful ink."

"And did you find any, sister?" choked the priest.

"I fear that we had not completed the investigation when we heard you arrive. Though I have explored the outside of Sister Lesbia's body, I have not yet examined inside."

The girl was a genius.

The priest's cock hardened instantly, extending so rapidly that it almost took my eye out. Charity stood and moved from her side of the door to lift me to my feet. Charity cupped my breasts in her hands, flicking the nipples with her fingertips, then ran her palms over my belly.

"You see, father, there is no sign of any markings on her outer skin..."

"No, indeed," he whined. I saw that he had taken himself in hand this time, and was tugging at his cock in a most frantic fashion. His eyes were bulging, and his tongue stuck out between his puffy lips.

Charity slipped her cool hand between my thighs, and lifted one leg so that I was forced to lean back against her for support. A finger slipped into my pussy from behind, grazing my cunt lips, and finding the small button of my clit. She spread her index and second fingers, so that my lips parted. Suddenly, it was the priest's turn to fall to his knees.

"Can you see anything within her pussy, father?" chimed Charity. The reply came back, sounding rather like "Accch!" Charity took that to mean that he wasn't sure, and bent me a little further back, so that I was even more openly exposed to his gaze. Her fingers worked their way into me a little more, and I felt my juices start to dribble around her. The priest's eyes were fixed on my cunt, but mine were locked into Charity's, drowning within the beautiful deep blue waters. Not pausing for a moment with what she was doing with her insistent fingers, Charity bent her head to kiss me on the lips. Our tongues touched briefly, then she withdrew.

The priest was working himself furiously, and Charity timed her moves accurately once more. She turned me round, so that my back was to the gate, and made me bend forward so that my hands were almost touching the floor. She smoothed her hands along my back, then cupped the full moons of my arse, pulling flesh from flesh to divide the deep chasm, and reveal my every secret to the wanking priest. I would have fainted from shame, had it not been for Charity's support, and for the deepening sense of lust that was devouring me.

Her fingers caressed my cunt once more, and I whimpered with my pressing need, then she took hold of my buttocks once more and pulled them wider than before. Her forefingers pressed tightly into the skin on either side of my anus.

"And what about her bum, father? Can you see anything here?" And with that, she pulled me open.

I was splattered with cum almost at once. Charity held me still for a few moments longer, then allowed me to stand up and turn round. We adopted matching stances, hands clasped, heads bowed, eyes lowered to the floor. I heard the priest fumble with his clothes.

"You are both most brazen girls. I can see that no ordinary punishment will divert you from your lustful, lascivious ways. We shall have to see to it that you are scourged clean of your lusts. Yes! We'll drive these demons from you, whether they be elves or succubi! I shall summon you soon. In the meantime, try to take a few cold baths!"