The First Book of the Merciful Nun

When he arrived, the visitor proved to be a short stout man of late middle age. He seemed very much at home in this room, though a little surprised to see Molly there.

"Hullo," he said, "What's your name?"

"Molly, sir," she said.

She knew better than to ask his.

"Where's ..." he started to ask, and then thought better of it, "I suppose I'd better tell you what I want?" he asked.

She nodded and stood up.

"Well, first I like to sit and kiss for a while. Then I'll undress you myself while we kiss, and you can then ... lie down. Does that sound reasonable?"

Molly nodded again, not trusting herself to ask any questions. She sat down again on the bed and the visitor sat beside her. They kissed, tentatively at first, then as he realised she was totally compliant, more passionately. His tongue scoured her mouth and when it withdrew she returned the compliment. The only slight hitch came when he had to ask her to stand up so that her dress could be removed. She made a mental note to do so in future whenever necessary; men seemed to like her to anticipate some of their wishes and not others. Then she was standing before him clad only in the sensible brassière and drawers. He unfastened the string and let her drawers fall to her ankles. Then he tackled her brassière with a skill which bespoke much experience.

She dropped to her knees and started to unfasten his trousers. For a few moments he allowed this, watching her movements with interest. When she lifted his manhood and opened her mouth to suck it, he hit her on the side of the head, hard, knocking her to the floor.

"That's a filthy idea," he snarled, "I'll show you where that is to go, you abomination of a child."

He lifted her bodily and dropped her on the bed. In a moment her legs were on his shoulders and he was buried firmly in her vagina. A few violent strokes in and out and she felt his whole body stiffen and throb. Then he was out of her, dropping her legs unceremoniously, so that she fell from the edge of the bed on to the floor. As she looked up a few moments later she saw his retreating back disappear through the door.

Slowly she picked herself up and moved towards the bathroom, acutely conscious of the fact that she had not been satisfied and that she had probably failed the visitor as well. Her leg itched and it was only when she absent-mindedly scratched it that she realised that the irritation was caused by a sticky liquid running down her leg.

'At least he did shudder,' she thought, 'even if I haven't.'

After cleaning herself, she went back into the bedroom and lay on the bed. It was there, close to a self-induced orgasm, that Monsignor Flavin found her when he entered unannounced.

"What are you doing?" he asked, knowing full well what she was doing.

"Master," she cried, leaping from the bed, "I was just ..."

"I know what you were doing. Lie down and continue; I want to watch."

Molly did as she was told, but found it very disconcerting to be watched, especially as Monsignor Flavin would lean forward from time to time to examining a nipple, or her face, or her fingering of herself from only a few inches away.

After some minutes, he said, craftily, "You aren't getting anywhere, are you?"

"No Master," she admitted.

"Allow me," he said and started to finger her clitoris.

Just as she was coming along nicely, he let it go and she moaned. He thrust a finger quickly into her vagina, which was lovely, then withdrew it and pushed it into the darker hole. She twisted on the bed in protest, partly at the pain and partly at the affront.

"A lot of your visitors will want to put their fingers in here, so you'd better get used to it," he said, "Now lie still."

His thumb returned to her clitoris and this stimulation distracted her mind from the invasion of her rectum. Eventually she had relaxed enough for him to have two fingers in her bottom, and she felt very full as she shuddered to her climax.

When she opened her eyes again, it was to see the Monsignor's penis hovering above her face. She turned to lie on her side and took it into her mouth. As she sucked him, he moved her legs into a foetal position and she felt his fingers intruding into her bottom again. This sensation was again somewhat tempered by his thumb sliding into her vagina at the same time. As she licked and sucked valiantly, she managed to slide her own hand down to her clitoris and was close to shuddering again when Monsignor Flavin's manhood suddenly erupted in her mouth.

He withdrew at once and some of the cream splashed on to her face and breasts. He stood up, releasing her body, and went into the bathroom. Molly lay there, exhausted, slowly scraping his juices from her face and breasts, and licking her fingers clean. Finally she wiped herself on the discarded drawers she had worn for her visitor.

When Monsignor Flavin returned from his ablutions, once again fully dressed, he asked her, "What did you do to upset him?"

"Master," she said, "I offered to take him in my mouth."

"Molly," he sighed, "What am I going to do with you? You are here to obey, not to initiate. Unless asked, you do nothing, especially with a new visitor. If a gentleman visits you a second time, you may remember what he wants and assume it will be the same, but you never propose anything yourself."

"Sorry, Master," she said, draping her naked body face down over the armchair.

"So you should be," he said as he raised his hand, bringing it down in a resounding slap on her rump.

Molly started to cry quietly, but as he continued the spanking her sobs became louder. When his palm was stinging, the Monsignor took the knout from the drawer of the sideboard and gave her a sharp crack across the buttocks with it. He had held his hand back a little and so the various strands only just reached her bottom, each one making an extremely painful spot where the very end of each strand cracked on the already reddened and sensitive flesh. Molly let out an unfeigned scream of pain.

"Dress and return to your cell, please, Sister Lucia," said her tormentor.

As she rose and started to pull on her habit, Monsignor Flavin stopped her and said, "I hope you don't intend to walk along the corridor without any drawers on?"

"No, Master," she said, and continued to don the habit.

When it was securely in place she stepped into the thick drawers she found in the wardrobe and pulled them up under the skirts, wincing with pain as the harsh material came in contact with her abused skin.

'I'll be sleeping on my front again tonight,' she thought wryly as she made her way back to being Sister Lucia again.

In later months, she realised that the short, stout man was really very kind, provided she did as he asked. His main pleasure seemed to be kissing, though they always ended up on the bed with him shuddering long before she got there. In fact she came to realise that he was quite the kindest of her visitors, even though she had had such an unfortunate first visit from him.

***

Chapter 20 Statue

As the first few weeks passed a number of different visitors came to call; Sister Lucia was transformed into Molly, provided pleasures for them, and then returned to being Sister Lucia. Her duties continued to include pleasuring Monsignor Flavin, and he now used her vagina as well as her mouth, and frequently pushed a finger into her arse as he fucked her.

Then a visitor came who introduced her to a new variation. He had asked for her to be dressed as a young lay woman, in the blouse and skirt, but without the frilly apron. She had nothing on underneath the specified clothes, since nothing had been mentioned. When he saw her he looked startled, but made no comment. He was a tall, spare man with thinning hair, older than Molly but not, she thought, old enough to be her father.

"You don't seem in the least shy about your duties?" he asked.

"Sir?" was all that Molly could think of to say.

"The lack of underclothing," he explained.

"Oh. Monsignor Flavin did not say I was to wear any, sir."

The visitor made no comment, but walked over to the drawers and took out the statue of the man's penis. Molly had not felt able to look closely at this, but the visitor evidently knew all about it.

"Well, since you seem to have no shame, take off the skirt but retain the blouse. It will be even more provocative than nude, I think."

As she obeyed, Molly blushed because, as he had intimated, she felt more naked than if she had been unclothed.

"Lie on the bed with your legs in the air, and we'll see how this little beauty suits you," the visitor's voice sounded ominous.

Molly obediently lay on her back and pulled her knees up to her chest, holding them there with her hands.

"Please, sir, what does it do?"

"Ah; then you have not experienced this before?" he asked.

"No, sir," Molly said, wondering what, exactly, it was for.

"Well, what I do is oil you thoroughly," said her visitor, suiting his actions to his words and pouring baby oil liberally on, and in to her vagina.

"Now you can accept this easily, I hope."

Indeed the strange dildo slid easily into her body, leaving the handle protruding. The visitor pumped it in and out for some moments and Molly thought she felt the first stirrings of her build up to shuddering, but then he removed it, and she felt empty.

"Now, a little more oil," the visitor commented as he oiled her bottom, making sure some went right inside her.

"Then the pleasure," he said as he slid the device, with some difficulty, into Molly's most private aperture.

It hurt a little, even though she was doing her best to relax and let it in. Once inside her rectum, it was turned several times to seat it comfortably, and Molly began to accept its presence. In truth, it was less painful than Monsignor Flavin's fingers had been, or the handsome young man's penis.

This visitor started to fiddle with the handle of the dildo, muttering, and then the pain came. Suddenly Molly felt the device expand inside her, pressing the walls of her rectum apart in a most agonising way. She cried out to him to stop, and he did so.

"Now you understand how it works, I think. It can be enlarged up to several times its original size. Curiously, it was our Mother the Church who invented it, or to be more accurate, that part of the Church called the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Roman and Universal Inquisition."

"The Inquisition?" she stammered.

"Indeed, the Inquisition," her visitor replied, to her horror, "I am told they used two at once, front and rear, to obtain confessions from witches. Unfortunately I have never been able to find another one, so I can't try that, but one makes the Merciful Nun scream quite well."

With that he turned the handle a little further, and Molly screamed in pain.

As the afternoon wore on, Molly experienced more pain than she thought possible, and finally was much relieved when her visitor released his little toy and removed it from her anus. He then proceeded to use her vagina in the normal way, though her rectum hurt far too much for Molly to get any pleasure from it.

"The pity is," said the visitor when he had finished inside her and she had licked him clean, "that Monsignor Flavin won't let me use my device properly. I can only open it half way, for fear of damaging the Merciful Nun beyond repair, and for your first time I was adjured to open it only one third of the way. Look."

He held his toy up and opened it to one third.

"That is what you took, and even that made you scream most satisfactorily."

He opened it further, as Molly watched the end unfurl itself with horror and loathing.

"That is half way. I shall give you that next time," he promised, reducing Molly to whimpering with fear.

Releasing her from her bonds, he said, "Now it is your turn. I have hurt you, and that is a sin. To be purged of that sin, I must be hurt in my turn."

Handing Molly the knout, he lay face down on the bed and said, "Twelve, I think."

Molly felt very uncomfortable wielding the knout on her visitor, even though he praised her for punishing him. Whenever he visited Molly, and she hated and feared those visits, Sister Lucia would always feel the need for a session of self-flagellation in the privacy of her cell later that evening.

***

Chapter 21 Handcuffs

Although he usually sent messages via the servant girls, Monsignor Flavin came to Sister Lucia's cell in person to tell her to expect a visitor in an hour or so. She was to go with the servant girl carrying a dress and change into it. The servant would then take her habit away and return it after the visitor had left.

In Molly's room she quickly undressed, no longer embarrassed at the presence of the servant, and slipped on the dress. Since there were no underclothes, she assumed she was to be naked under it, and this was not unusual; many of her visitors wanted her to be bereft of underwear. Well before her visitor was due she was ready for him, dressed in a shabby frock which had seen better days, and which was not a normal part of her costume.

Several visitors had met and used Molly in her room at the College of Correction and Redemption but none had used any form of restraint on her, and she had more or less forgotten the handcuffs in the dressing table drawer, when a short, wiry man with sparse ginger hair knocked at her door and introduced himself as Declan. He seemed surprised that Molly was waiting for him sitting on the bed.

"Did they not tell you?" he asked.

"All I was told was that a real gentlemen was to visit me," she said, trying to flatter him, and wondering what Monsignor Flavin had forgotten to say.

"Oh well, I suppose you'll remember next time. I like to find you on the bed, fastened down, but I suppose I'll have to do it myself," he grumbled.

Taking four sets of handcuffs from the dressing table, he quickly clipped her ankles and wrists to the four corners of the brass bedstead, taking care not to touch her flesh at all, so that she was spread-eagled face up, quite unable to prevent any liberties he might wish to take with her body. As he did so he explained that she could do this herself as long as she remembered to fasten her ankles first.

When all was ready, he went out of the room for some minutes; then Molly heard a knock at the door.

"Come," she called, realising that he wanted to start his visit again, with her properly in place.

In he came and stood beside the bed looking her up and down for some moments. He took off his overcoat and carefully hung it in the wardrobe before returning to the side of the bed.

"Well, well, well," he said, "You do seem to have been a naughty girl, don't you? You must have tried to run away or they wouldn't have restrained you like that."

As Molly went to plead her innocence, being the part she expected to have to play with him, he interrupted her with a strict admonition to silence. Slowly removing his suit, he again hung the jacket and trousers neatly in the wardrobe, which Molly noticed was completely empty.

Returning to the bed, he delved in his underwear and produced a short, fat, but evidently very solid erection. Molly assumed that he would use her mouth or her body and she started to dampen in anticipation of the lovely shudder a thick gentleman could offer her.

Still being careful not to touch her flesh, he lifted her frock clear of her body and in one well-practised movement, tore it from hem to neck. Pulling the bottom of it sideways, he dragged most of the torn garment from under her and then tore it again, leaving only the minimum of material attached to the sleeves which, of course, he could not remove. Placing the length of cloth he had thus acquired over her belly, but leaving her breasts and private parts exposed, he climbed above her on to the bed and knelt straddling her belly and facing the head of the bed.

Holding his erection in one hand, he pumped vigorously, and in a very few minutes jets of sticky liquid fell across her breasts, with the first, and strongest pulse just landing on her chin.

As his erection subsided he climbed off her and fetched a chair to the side of the bed near the foot. Sitting on this, he proceeded to pull out some of the hairs from her private parts one at a time, leaving most of them, but causing her considerable pain as each was wrenched from its roots.

After amusing himself thus for some little time, he climbed above her again and settled himself between her thighs. With one thrust he was deep inside her body and Molly expected him to start to move; indeed she hoped for it, because she was close to shuddering. However, all he did was release her right wrist and sit back, still embedded firmly inside her.

"You may now have your lunch," he ordered, "But not a word mind."

With her one free hand, Molly scooped up the cold sticky liquid which adorned her breasts and popped it in her mouth. Although she usually enjoyed eating men's emissions, his had had time to cool and now felt slimy and nasty, not at all like the warm salty fluid she enjoyed. She managed to get it all into her mouth, but Declan realised she had not swallowed it and demanded first that she open her mouth, then that she swallow, and finally that she open her mouth again to show it had gone.

Apparently he found this routine exceedingly exciting, because she felt him shuddering inside her, and she too reached that glorious state. Before she had recovered her senses, Declan had jumped off her, and quickly fastened her right wrist to the same bedpost as her left, so that she was forced to lie mostly on her side.

Approaching her face, he suggested, "It might be a kindness if you were to clean me."

Opening her mouth wide, Molly managed to accommodate his girth in her lips and to lick his stickiness. As she did so, she started to suck on him, but feeling this he pulled away and stuffed himself back into his underwear. Unclipping her left ankle, he took it across the bed and clipped it to the same bedpost as her right, twisting her face down as he did so. This left her rosy bottom fully exposed to his gaze, as was her back; only her shoulders were concealed in the torn remnants of her frock.

Her first hint of the next phase of his pleasures was when the knout landed on her bottom cheeks with some force.

"You are a wicked woman," he declared, "Tempting me like this; wearing no underwear."

He lifted the remnant of her dress up and away from her shoulders, dropping it on the back of her head. The next blow did not land on her shoulders, as she had expected, but across the tops of her thighs. That was a tender spot, and all the more painful for the surprise; Molly cried out in pain, but this seemed to annoy her visitor.

"I told you to be quiet," he hissed, "You are to be punished in silence."

Taking the torn cloth he had used as a saddle, he wrapped it twice round her head as a rough gag, and tied it tightly at the back.

"There, perhaps that will help," he said.

Her then returned to his flagellation of the unfortunate woman and she felt five or six more blows from the knout. Evidently this had reinvigorated him, for she felt his weight on her back and his erection between her legs. Thrusting between her thighs for as few moments, he reached a third climax, and sprayed the bedding, since he had not managed to enter her on this occasion, but seemed content to rub himself between her thighs. This was very painful as his underwear rubbed on her sore flesh, and she was relieved when he rose from the bed.

She heard him dress and the door close behind him. Lying there helpless, Molly waited and eventually a servant girl came into the room.

Freeing Molly's hands, she spoke, which was very unusual, "You could easily have freed yourself. I thought you were bathing."