The Convent Spirits Ch. 03

The cold October sun shone through the open window of the east-wing dormitory as the two nuns stirred gently under the covers. Sr Claire lay on her back with Winifred stretched out on top of her, using one of her large breasts as a pillow. Claire slowly opened her eyes and stretched; Winnie snuggled her closely and pulled the warm covers over them, eliciting a giggle from her sister.

"Comfy sis?" Claire asked.

"Mmmmm... it's too cold to get out of bed Sister..." Winifred responded in a muffled tone.

Claire stroked her sister's hair as they gently dozed until Sister Mittens--the cat--bounded in through the open window and began gently licking at their toes, tickling awfully.

"Alright! Alright, I'll get up!" Winifred giggled as she begrudgingly crawled out of bed into the frigid room to shut the window.

But as soon as Winifred had stepped out of the bed, they both realized--to their confusion and horror--that they had been sleeping completely naked. Winnie rushed to cover her little brown nipples as best she could while Claire's mouth dropped open at the sight of her sister's petite body. Neither one had any memory of the previous night, but both stood dumbfounded--gazing at each other's bare bodies--for some time. At last, Winifred silently shut the window and sat down on her bed with her hands over her face.

"What on earth do you think happened... Claire... y-you don't think we--"

"Oh heavens no!" Claire interjected, fearful of what Sr Winifred might be thinking.

In spite of their best efforts, neither nun could keep her eyes off of the other. The thought that maybe the previous night had been spent in... unholy activities... could not leave either of their minds; it tormented them both. Visions of what might have happened crept into their heads: the two sisters furiously scissoring each other, clit rubbing against clit in a passionate embrace; Claire on her knees, tongue deep in Winifred's sensitive pussy; Winifred suckling on Claire's big breast while pressing her two fingers deep inside her, hooking against her g-spot; the possibilities were endless.

"L-look..." Claire said at last, "You were probably cold because of the window being left open and came to snuggle with me... we've done that before--"

"But why were we... n-naked?" They both blushed as the word left Winifred's mouth.

A small meow from the corner drew their attention. Sister Mitten's eyes pierced through both of their spirits, and an overwhelming sense of guilt came over poor Winifred.

"We have to go to confession..." she said, standing up and walking to the closet.

Claire watched--her eyes fixed on Winnie's little, round bottom--as she slipped into her clothes.

"You know I'm in Mother Anne's confessional all the time... but she likes you... don't you think--"

"I know Claire... but I've got to," Winifred said softly, clutching her rosary.

The two nuns quietly finished their morning routine, each eying the other when they thought they weren't looking. They didn't see much of each other throughout the day, and when the time came for three o'clock confession, Winifred entered alone into the cold, stone halls of St. Monica's Chapel. She took a seat next to the confessional--which was already occupied--and began to pray silently. As she knelt her veiled, nut-brown head to pray, the restless nun could not help but overhear the muffled voices of the confessional next to her. There was a steady, repetitive sound: Thwap... thwap... thwap... interspersed with a soft, feminine voice that followed it: Oooh! Ouch! Ooof! Winifred's mind returned instantly to the previous morning, which she had by now nearly forgotten, and instead of contemplating her sins, she began meditating upon the indescribable thrills which filled her little body with every gentle caress or vicious impact of those ghostly hands, and how much she craved it.

"I do hope she spanks me..." Winifred caught herself thinking, "f-for my sins... n-nothing more--"

At last, the noises relented, and soon a blushing, dishevelled nun she identified as Sister Celestine, her neighbour across the hall. Sr. Celestine adjusted her veil with a look of supreme embarrassment, pursed her dark-red lips to one side and muttered, "You're up Winifred" as she walked briskly away holding her bottom. Winifred nervously entered the confessional, her heart pounding, and sat down opposite the silhouette of Mother Anne.

"B-bless me, Mother, for I have sinned..." she began, "last night... well... I was indecent with my Sister..."

"Sister Claire?" the stern voice of the prioress sounded from behind the veil.

"Y-yes Mother... we saw one another... naked--"

Mother Anne gasped, "My daughter, your body is a temple! Such indecency is forbidden in our most holy order--even among sisters. I am very disappointed in you Winifred... you've been a very naughty girl."

"Y-yes mother... f-forgive me mother" Winnie said softly.

"This is a grave sin... you should await your penance in the chapel... I have some things to arrange," Mo. Anne said, arising as the two of them stepped out of the confessional.

Winifred bowed respectfully as the prioress looked down at her momentarily before turning to the door. She was a mature woman but still pretty at nearly fifty years old. She had long, curly grey hair, a well-defined chin that was nearly always pointed up, and a pear-shaped body with large, bulging breasts. She was always covered in makeup--although she scolded anyone who pointed it out--and was never seen in anything but the highest pumps she could find. Sister Winifred knelt in the pews and tried once more to pray, but her mind wandered back time and again to that morning. A sudden slap on her bottom sent shivers of electric pleasure through her little body as she gasped the words "Oh thank god!" Fortunately, there was nobody there to hear her. She stuck one of her hands underneath her skirt and began to fondle her soft panties, gently stroking her clitoris as ghostly hands began appearing all over her: they thundered against her bottom, squeezed both her little breasts, pulled on her nipples, fingered her naval, ran their fingers through her hair and even stroked gently along her sensitive soles. Her mouth began to hang open unconsciously as two ghostly fingers began pressing down on her tongue, sliding deep into her throat. She loved being their toy, even if she had no idea who or what they were; Winifred knew she was theirs. The poor, oblivious girl was almost to the edge of climax when she was suddenly startled by the clack, clack, clack of Mo. Anne's high-heels on the stone floor. The apparitions fled and she was left alone in the chapel pews with a throbbing heart and a very wet pussy, still begging for release.

Mother Anne had returned with two other nuns, Sisters Catherine and Elizabeth--a short, blonde, nineteen-year-old acolyte who had assisted Mother Agnes in mass the previous morning.

--"Come, Sister Winifred, your penance awaits!"

She nervously followed them out of the chapel and into the base of a high tower used mainly for storage. Mo. Anne led Winifred and her sisters up the winding stairs and into a large room with a small, box-frame bed and stacks of boxes all around, smelling of cardboard and old mothballs. The dim, red light of the autumn sun shone through the window which looked out over the walls of the convent and into the dark forest beyond; Sister Elizabeth lit a few candles and Winifred was instructed to sit down on the bed. Claire, who was there when she arrived, leaned over and whispered to the nervous Winifred, "Don't worry sis, Mother Anne's penances are always exotic but never anything too bad." It wasn't much comfort. Sister Catherine rolled a large, set of stocks out from behind some boxes and up to the foot of the bed where she instructed the two penitents to place their feet. Claire weakly resisted as the tall, black heels slipped off her feet. She slipped off one of Winifred's white, lacy socks and then the other one; Mo. Anne nodded with approval.

"Grey--very modest of you Winifred."

"T-thank you, Mother..." Winifred stuttered, scrunching her shy little toes and hiding one foot behind the other.

Sr. Catherine went to remove Claire's socks, but she curled her toes and fought. At last, a bout of tickling managed to soften her grip enough to uncover her freshly painted, candy-corn-coloured pedicure silver purity ring stuck around her big, orange toe. Mother Anne giggled.

"Claire, Claire... always the rebellious one!" she said, taking a long reed in her hand and smiling wide.

"I'm sorry to punish you for your sister's decadence, Winifred, but you really should have told me anyway," she said before laying it gently against their timid, bare soles.

Sudden jolts of pain stung their poor soles as the reed fell against them over and over, making the girls gasp and plead for mercy. Claire--who was calloused from many such penances--took her beating stoically, but Winifred had never felt such awful sensations. She kept hiding one foot behind the other, trading off with every horrid impact, which only made the punishment worse. Despite the pain, a strange sensation began growing inside of them. Claire--who had never reacted this way before--felt suddenly aroused. Each swat against their bare soles sent echoes of strange pleasure down her legs that made her virgin pussy tingle against her panties. She grabbed Winifred's hand and squeezed it tight. Winifred quickly recalled the wonderful sensations with which the convent spirits had been teasing her the past two days; the pain was almost unbearable, but the pleasure was more so. At last, when both penitents were tearful and red, Mother Anne relented.

"Sorry yet sisters?" She asked maniacally.

"Yes... yes! We've learned our lesson!" they pleaded.

Sr. Elizabeth giggled as she gently kissed Winifred's tender, rosy soles, "We're just getting started, sisters!"

Sister Catherine took a bottle of baby oil and gently drizzled it over their stinging feet, kissing them gently and giggling. Claire groaned and spread her toes, knowing what was to come. Suddenly, a rush of intense, ticklish sensations assaulted their poor, sensitive feet as Catherine and Elizabeth began raking their bare, oily soles with their long fingernails. Winifred nearly burst with unexpected laughter and the two girls instinctively held one another tight. As unexpectedly sensual as the falaka had been, the tickling was more so. Sister Elizabeth loved to wriggle her fingers in between Winifred's toes, making them dance and squirm with desperation, sending her mind into unimaginable fantasies. Claire's long arches were her downfall, for every time Catherine raked her pointy fingernails along her length, Claire felt herself grow hotter and hotter, and slowly laughter became interspersed with moans.

Catherine and Elizabeth stopped suddenly as tickling changed into long, soft kisses on their sensitive soles. Claire moaned audibly as Catherine nibbled gently on her calloused heel and Winifred gasped as Elizabeth plopped her fourth toe inside her little mouth, swirling it around with her tongue. The two looked longingly at one another as Mother Anne produced two toothbrushes--possibly their own. Yet the next thing that happened was beyond either of their understanding. For through the closed window climbed a large-looking man shining with the dim, gloomy light of the moon. His face was obscure, his body was large and muscular and his whole frame assumed a blue-green hue as he stepped forth into the room behind Mo. Anne.

"S-stop!" "Wait!" They tried to say, desperately pointing at the phantom whose cold gaze pierced them both from over the shoulder of the prioress, but Mo. Anne only laughed and handed the toothbrushes over to her lackeys, who began afresh.

Claire and Winifred's attempted warning was cut short by the most intense tickling they had ever experienced. Both girls fell back onto the bed and writhed as the oily brushes wormed their way in between sensitive their toes and accosted their defenceless arches. Suddenly, both sisters opened their eyes to a bright, empty room. A soft misty floor was beneath them while towering above was the phantasmic form of the man from the window, his erect penis hanging between their faces. The terrible sensations of penance still afflicted their bare feet, but while their senseless bodies writhed under the confessor's brush, they were somewhere else. Claire instinctively kissed the tip of the spectral cock, and Winifred followed. At once they found their legs interlocked and their sensitive clits rubbing firmly against one another. They worshipped the phantom's penis while grinding together until Claire slipped the tip inside her mouth and began swirling it with her tongue; Winifred licked up its length until she reached the tip, burying her face in the enormous scrotum.

Back in the room, Mother Anne poured a small vial of holy oil on their spamming toes before the brushing resumed twice as hard. Claire and Winifred's bodies erupted into fits of laughter, but their minds felt it as burning hot wax, dripping down their tortured soles, which only made them scissors harder. Claire thrust the long cock down to the base of her throat--she had no gag reflex. Winifred continued suckling the phantom's balls as Claire slid the incorporeal cock back and forth inside of her deep throat, grinding her pussy against her sister underneath his legs. The more they worshipped, the closer and closer they got to orgasm. Winifred began to throb, squeezing Claire's hand tightly as she arched her back. They were so close, but the wretched climax never came, as poor nuns were suddenly jolted back into their bodies by the thundering voice of Mother Faustina, the abbess.

"What's all this?" She demanded, swinging the door wide open.

Claire and Winifred beheld the spectre slip away through the window as the orgasmic sensation swiftly disappeared from their bodies. Then, much to everyone's surprise, they blurted out together.

"Oh please, mother! Please punish us! We're such bad little nuns! We deserve it!"

Each one shouted over the other and they desperately squirmed and twisted their legs, trying to get even a fleeting sensation to return to their pulsing pussies. The abbess was silent with astonishment for a few moments before addressing Mother Anne.

"Two hours is long enough, and besides, we can hear you all the way from the infirmary."

"My apologies, Mother Superior," Anne said gently.

The abbess turned and absolved the two penitents, who were promptly released from their stocks, redressed and sent back to their cell.