The First Book of the Merciful Nun

As Sister Lucia sank down on the bed, slightly perplexed as to why she had no clothes again. Then she thought it was probably to confine her; her nudity made her a prisoner in her cell as surely as if the door were locked. Trying to dismiss all her worries, she lay down on the bed and pulled the blankets over her. Sleep was elusive until she worked out what was wrong. Once she had discarded the unfamiliar pillow on to the floor, she slept like a log.

When she struggled to wakefulness, she wondered for a moment where she was. The memories of the previous two days flooded back, and she was horrified to realise that it was broad daylight outside and she had clearly missed Matins. She draped a blanket round her and tried the door. The door handle did not turn; evidently it could only be opened from the outside.

All day she sat, unclothed, unvisited, wondering what, exactly was in store for her here. The College of Correction and Redemption sounded very strict and fierce, but the alternative was being expelled from the Convent into an outside world of which she knew nothing, and feared everything. She had no trade with which she could earn a living; her main duties had been as a sort of general maid-of-all-work, when she wasn't praying, and she thought there would be little call for an adult woman to do a child's work, and even less call for someone to pray five times a day.

The day wore on and she became hungrier, but that was no great hardship; days of fasting were well known to her, though usually it had been as a religious duty rather than as a penance. There was some water in the small side-room in the wash jug, and she drank a little of that.

The light faded, and Sister Lucia, well aware that she had not made her devotions once, knelt beside her bed, pulling a blanket round her since it seemed sacrilegious to pray in the nude. She recited the whole of the litany of Compline, which took her nearly two hours.

Stiff and weary, she lay on the bed and slept again.

***

Chapter 12 Induction

Sister Lucia woke when one of the nondescript servant girls in a grey smock brought her some hot tea, and bread and cheese early the next morning. When the prisoner started to ask a question, the skivvy looked very frightened and almost ran from the room. However, she left a bundle behind which proved to contain a nun's habit, complete with Swiss wimple, though no under-clothing. Sister Lucia donned such clothes as there were quickly, and with some relief; then she sat and ate the bread and cheese and drank the tea eagerly, as she had not eaten for some thirty-six hours.

Some time after that, the servant appeared again, and put an admonitory finger to her lips. Evidently there was a rule of silence in this establishment, at least between the servants and the inmates. Obeying the servant's gestures, Sister Lucia followed her along a corridor and was directed through a door. When she entered with much trepidation, she was relieved to discover that it was merely another toilet, and she gratefully made use of its facilities.

Returning to the corridor, she again followed the servant to another door, through which she went, to find herself in a book-lined study with a cheerful fire blazing in the hearth. A large desk, its top completely clear, stood below the window, with a comfortably upholstered chair behind it. Other than that, there was nowhere to sit, so Sister Lucia stood quietly waiting for someone to come and tell her what to do next.

It was a worrying few minutes for her; clearly she was expected to wait, but most of the rules of the College were unknown. Should she speak to whoever came in, or not? Should she kneel and pray as she waited? Should she pass the time reading one of the books? How should she greet whoever came in? As she pondered these mysteries, Sister Lucia heard the door open behind her and Monsignor Flavin came past her and sat in the chair facing her.

He examined her for some moments in silence, before asking, "Why are you here?"

Sister Lucia didn't know what to say as her thoughts ran wildly over possible answers. Should she say she was a sinner? Should she say it was the Bishop's suggestion? Did the question only refer to her being in his study, in which case should she say that the servant brought her?

It appeared that the question was rhetorical, as the Monsignor continued, "You are here because Mother Church has not finally decided that you are incorrigible. I have been looking at your history, and one thing puzzles me. Tell me, why did you become a nun?"

Sister Lucia was at a loss as to how to answer that, but an answer was required, so she decided to tell the truth as she saw it, "Reverend Father, I ..."

Monsignor Flavin interrupted her, "You address me simply as 'Master', not as Reverend anything. I am your teacher and Master while you are here, not your confessor."

Somehow she heard the capital M on the word Master and shivered slightly.

"Sir, I became a nun because I had always been intended to be a nun. It was something I knew had to happen, even from childhood, before I understood anything about Our Lord."

A smile broke over the Monsignor's face, "I thought so. None of the V's?"

Seeing her puzzled look he continued, " No visions from God ordering you to take the veil? No visitations from Our Lady talking of the cloister? No voices insisting that you must profess the vows? Nothing like that?"

Sister Lucia was frightened even more by this line of thought; all the nuns who said they had visions in the Convent also had fits and were, in her opinion, at least partly mad. The one who heard voices was definitely mad; either that, or the angel which spoke to her was a devil, bent on upsetting the Convent.

"No, sir," she replied, "Nothing like that. I just always knew that was to be my life."

"So what did you feel, spiritually, when you first broke one of the vows?"

"Sir, I ... I ... don't understand," she stammered.

"Mother Superior had you removed from the Convent because you were found indulging in the sins of the flesh, specifically sexual sins. You had, she was certain, indulged before. When you had first enjoyed sexual stimulation by someone else, after you took your vows, and had not been caught, or been struck down by the wrath of Our Lord, what did you think?"

"I ... I ...it was so nice. I wondered how it could be wrong."

"And did you confess your sin?"

"N-No, sir," her voice was very quiet as she admitted that.

"Thank you for your honesty. We shall get on splendidly if you continue to be honest with me, and to obey your vow of obedience. You won't have the chance to disobey the vow of poverty, since you will have nothing which is your own. Even the habit you are wearing belongs to the College and can be withdrawn at any time," said her teacher, "And speaking of poverty, I see you are still wearing the ring you were given at the time you professed your vows. Please remove it and I will have it returned to the Convent, whose property it is."

Sister Lucia removed the ring with much anguish, as it seemed the last link with her status as a nun.

"Don't worry, I'll see you get a College replacement, but of course it will not have been blessed in the same way," the Monsignor reassured her, "Much as the habit you are now wearing, it will preserve the memory of being in the Convent, and the illusion of being decently dressed, while not actually signifying the substance."

The dazed Sister really did not understand this at all. The difference between one habit and another was completely lost on her, but she did hope that she would be allowed another ring; her finger felt very odd without it.

Monsignor Flavin rose from his chair and came round the desk to stand beside Sister Lucia, his hand brushing her cheek in a very familiar way. This was the first time a man had touched her at all since she was a small child.

"I can see we will get on very well," he said, "As long as you remember that I am your Master now, and it is to me that you owe the obedience you formerly showed to the Mother Superior."

"I'll try to obey, sir," the nun offered.

"Good, good," he replied, "Stand still."

With that he lifted the winged Swiss wimple from her hair, leaving her head bare. The dark hair, cut very short, contrasted with her fair complexion. When she had been in the College for a while and the hair had grown, she would be very popular indeed, he surmised.

"You must let your hair grow for a while, and then we'll have it shaped a little," he said, to her utter amazement.

He moved behind her and growled in her ear, "Stand still now. Remember you must obey."

His hands snaked round her waist as he stood behind her, and cupped her breasts. Immediately she broke away from his grasp and turned to face him, tears coming into her eyes.

"Reverend Father, you must not ..."

"I shall do as I please, and you will obey," he interrupted, "You will not tell me what I must or must not do. You will address me as Master.""

He walked back behind the desk and sat down.

"You disobeyed my order to stand still. Is that another vow you wish to abjure? I believe the Reverend Mother explained what would happen if you failed to grasp the chance this College offers you. You would be put out on the streets of Dublin, almost naked, barefoot, penniless, homeless and excommunicate. Is that what you want?"

"No, Master," she whispered.

"I imagine you believe that allowing me to touch your breasts would break your vow of chastity?"

Sister Lucia did not reply, merely hanging her head. She knew it was a trap, if she said no, she was condemned for disobedience, and if she said yes, she was condemned for valuing her already broken vow of chastity above her vow of obedience to his orders.

"Answer me!"

"Master ... no man has ever touched me like that," she prevaricated, "I was ... startled."

"Come here, beside me," he ordered.

Sister Lucia moved round the desk, acutely aware of what was to come next. Monsignor Flavin held out his hand, palm up, just above her waist level.

"Lean forwards until your breast rests on my hand," he said quietly.

Sister Lucia knew that the only other choice was impossible. Thrown out on the streets of Dublin in January with no home, money, or clothing, she would be lucky to live through the freezing night; if she did live it would only be as the servant or toy of some ruffian. She leant forward carefully, until her left breast was resting on his hand.

"Better," he said, "Go back to where you were, in front of the desk."

Sister Lucia breathed a sigh of relief and did as she was told.

***

Chapter 13 Self-Correction

Her relief was short-lived as the Monsignor took a knout from a drawer in his desk and offered it to her.

"This is what you will use to purge yourself of any sins you may feel you have committed, Sister. Here it replaces confession; when you believe you have purged yourself sufficiently, you are absolved of the sins you have remembered, just as if you had confessed them and performed the penance set by the priest," he said.

She took the whip and looked at. She had never seen its like before, It consisted of a tapering bundle of leather thongs about three feet long; clearly the user could flagellate her own back with ease. Sister Lucia was not aware that this was a gentle version of the device; more earnest penitents would use the same whip, but with each thong twisted with wire and hardened, so that its use would mangle the flesh.

"Do you have any sins unconfessed, Sister?" came the quiet question.

"Oh yes, Master," she replied, "You know I have."

"Very well then. You may commence to purge them now."

"Here? In front of you, Master?" she asked, uncertain.

"Of course, child. I need to know that you are using this scourge properly. You have never seen one before," it wasn't a question.

Sister Lucia took the knout in her right hand and lashed it over her left shoulder on to her back. She did feel it land, but it didn't really hurt.

"Sister Lucia," Monsignor Flavin's voice was full of tender solicitude, "You will have to strike much harder than that. Moreover it is a time-honoured tradition that scourging is applied to bare flesh."

"You mean I am to ..." her voice trailed off.

"My child, I do not say this for my own satisfaction," he lied, "but for the sake of your immortal soul. Here at the College of Correction and Redemption we have seen many souls at risk. Many have been saved from eternal damnation, but only by obedience and humility. Do cease your questioning of every order you are given, my child, I beg of you, for your soul's sake."

Sister Lucia hesitated for only a moment before slowly removing her habit. She had never in her life stripped herself naked before another person, not even as a very small child. Even her lover, Marie, had had to remove Sister Lucia's clothes herself.

When she was naked, the Monsignor had to fight hard to control himself. This young nun had a body that would have tempted a saint, had there been such a one remotely near the College. Unpromising though her birth and upbringing had been, the end result was definitely worth looking at, and more. Much as he wanted to do so, he dared not fondle that body just yet. There was much groundwork to be done first.

Not looking at the priest, but keeping her eyes firmly on the floor in front of her, Sister Lucia lifted the knout high again. Monsignor Flavin could not tear his eyes from the way her right breast lofted and bounced slightly, the pink nipple rigid from cold and embarrassment. She let fly with the knout, putting all her strength into it, and screamed in pain as the thongs bit into the flesh of her back, the tips of several of them snapping viciously into the soft skin of her upper buttocks. She crumpled to her knees and dropped the knout. Never in her life had she known such pain.

Entranced though he was by the bouncing flesh on show, the old priest was not slow to rush round the desk and help her to her feet, taking every opportunity to grip the young firm flesh 'accidentally' as he did so. When she was on her feet, he examined her back solicitously, stroking the angry red and black marks left on her skin by the knout as though to smooth them away. He even went so far as to cup one buttock before remembering himself and moving away from her. Fortunately she did not notice, her mind being occupied by the agony of her outraged flesh.

When she had calmed a little, he said, "I think that's enough for today, Sister. You may replace your habit."

Gratefully, she did so, only to discover that her skin protested violently wherever the cloth touched a weal.

"Go to your room, my child. I will come and see how you are later on," as she reached to recover the whip, he added, "Do not take the knout. I will bring you a shorter, softer instrument, more suitable to one who is not accustomed to flagellation."

When he went into her room later that evening, the Monsignor put a light knout on the shelf of the prie-dieu before turning to the figure lying face down on the bed.

"Come here, and we will see what we can do with those weals," he said, and helped her to her feet, "then we will talk about your life in the College of Correction and Redemption."

Slowly Monsignor Flavin helped her remove her habit, as he explained, "So that I can put some ointment on your poor skin."

When he examined the damaged skin, he was relieved to see that she had not harmed it in any way which he thought would leave permanent scars. That was the last thing he wanted, and he cursed himself for not realising that she might prove an over-enthusiastic self-flagellant.

Taking the cream he had specially made up at the pharmacists to soothe bruises and clean cuts, he gently applied it to her back. It was also rather greasy and served well to lubricate skin to skin contact. He smoothed it into her back and sides, occasionally touching the side of her breasts, and as she made no movement he became bolder, stroking and cupping her breasts more firmly, and feeling the nipples harden under his touch.

Reluctantly moving his hands away from her breasts, he spread more cream on her lower back and worked on down towards, and on to the tops of her buttocks where they rose to form the sides of a shadowed valley. Then he lengthened his strokes so that each moved further on to the undamaged pale flesh of her twin cheeks. Eventually he was massaging her bottom without moving to her back at all, and his thumbs were moving deeper and deeper into the furrow between them.

Without her realising what she was doing, her legs parted and her bottom rose in the air, giving his soothing fingers access to her clitoris. He stroked it gently until she was twitching with pleasure. Very gently he parted her labia. As he sank his thumb deep into her vagina she moaned in pleasure and he redoubled the caresses to her sensitive nubbin. In moments she was in the throes of an orgasm.

When she had finished he withdrew his hand and said, "Is that how it was with the Novice, at the convent?"

Sister Lucia blushed deeply and nodded.

"You must never do that again in this room," he said, "This is Sister Lucia's cell and here you must behave as a nun. Here you pray and meditate. Outside this room, when I allow you out of it, you can be Molly and she is allowed to climax."

"Master?" she queried.

"What word did you use for what just happened, you and your Novice."

"We never spoke of it, Master, but I thought of it as shuddering."

"A good nun, such as Sister Lucia wants to be, should never shudder," he instructed her, "But if your body needs it, Molly will be allowed to do so only when I permit it, and never again in this room. Later, when your back has healed, I will punish Sister Lucia for today's excesses."

As he was leaving he added, "Your food and drink will be brought to you by the servant girls. They will not speak to you, nor may you speak to them."

Making his way back to his study, the Monsignor reflected on how easy it usually was to persuade these foolish young women that they were two people, and that one was virtuous and the other sinful, but that they shared a body. Of course, he had never heard of hormones, he only knew that young women of Sister Lucia's type needed sexual release, and that this bodily need was in conflict with their spiritual devotion to their convent vows. He had heard the tales of places like Loudun and he thought that using their bodies sexually from time to time allowed such women to be all the more pure when they were being nuns. It helped to use two different names and to use different locations.

'Yes,' he thought, 'before she knows it she will be opening her legs to anyone who tells her to do so. I hope she lasts longer than most of our visiting nuns before she falls pregnant.'

***

Chapter 14 Co-operation

For two days, Sister Lucia was left alone to contemplate her fate in this strange establishment. She wondered what she would be required to do for this strange establishment where she was punished and yet encouraged to sexual sin. When she tried to leave her cell and go into the corridor she confirmed that although there was a doorknob on the inside of the door, it did not turn and she could not open the door. The servants brought her food, but never spoke, and they were always careful to shut the door after they left.

After the long two day wait and many hours of contemplation, Sister Lucia was escorted again to Monsignor Flavin's study.

"It is time for you to be punished for your disobedience and obstinacy. Are you ready to obey me and to be an obedient pupil of the College of Correction and Redemption?" he asked.

"Yes, ... Master," she said, "please do not punish me too hard. I am now resolved to obey."