The New Sisters of San Lorenzo

Wandering the streets of Venice on this hot summer night, Faith was so thankful that she had decided to save up and take this trip to Italy. Living on the Crystal Coast of North Carolina isn't exactly the easiest place to connect with one's Italian identity, but after her mother's Father departed this life that past fall, everyone seemed to talk about the old country and traditions. It felt all so foreign and not a true part of her; she wanted to change that. So she scrimped and she saved all while studying for her nursing degree in Greensboro, and she saved up just enough to make the trip.

Rome was incredible! The landscapes, the beauty of the churches, and the kindness of the people were better than she could have imagined. The artwork in Florence was simply breathtaking. The paintings and sculptures were so lifelike! If she were a more loose moraled girl, she might have lingered longer examining David's near perfect physique, but she was a good Baptist girl and would not fall to the Devil's temptations. That said, some of the Italian men could have resisted their own temptations a bit more and not been so obvious when staring at her large backside in her torn blue jean Daisy Dukes. "Perfectly acceptable back home, but not so much here!" she thought to herself.

But the part of the trip that had her excited the most was Venice. She had done the research and consulted the genealogists. Ships manifests from the turn of the 20^th century placed her family's home as the city in the lagoon. In fact, through following a trail of Catholic baptismal and wedding records, she was able to trace her lineage back to the late-1600s, but that's when it became... odd. Curiously, Faith's many times great grandmother was baptized three months after her older sister. Now it doesn't take a brain surgeon to understand to know that's not how pregnancy works!

So Faith dug deeper and found out that that ancestor had an aunt, that had been sent to a convent, the San Lorenzo convent to be precise, as was the custom of the day for any daughter who wasn't the oldest daughter. And to her astonishment, this convent had quite a reputation! According to one visitor's writing's of it in 1664,

"This is the richest convent in all of Venice, and there are more than 100 nuns, all gentlewomen. They dress themselves most elegantly, with white habits in the French manner, the bodice of fine linen with tiny pleats, and the professed wear black lace three fingers wide on the seams; a small veil encircles their forehead, below which their curly hair falls, beautifully arranged; their bosom is half-uncovered, and taken altogether their habit has more of the nymph than the nun."

Faith supposed she knew now where she got her own shoulder-length curly brown locks from.

And that's why Faith found herself wandering the tight streets of Venice on this night, appreciating the full moon illuminating the dark cobblestones and shimmering along the canals. She was determined to find the Convent of San Lorenzo. She was determined to try to understand what kind of nun would get pregnant! And honestly, she didn't know if she would get that answer, but she still felt a need to be there.

As she made the final right turn and immerged from the alley, she came upon a small square, surrounded by three and four story buildings on three sides and a ten foot tall brick and stucco wall in front of her. In the middle of the square was a well with a large metal covering over it, locked shut. Faith walked past the well to the wall and looked closer at a carved stone, maybe two feet wide and one foot high, hung about four feet from the ground. Though weathered from time, she could make out two clearly busty women on their knees on either side of a tall, muscular man. Faith could feel an energy to this place... she couldn't put a finger on it, but it was palpable.

She slipped off her flip flops to allow her bare feet to ground in place. She moved her hand up and touched one of the kneeling women in the carving. As she did, a thought appeared clear as day in her mind. An image of half-naked women in a common space flashed in her brain, almost like a passing thought. Then she touched the man and another set of images flashed in her brain; it was a strong, built Black man wearing African tribal attire in the room with the women looking like he was casting some sort of spell or chanting or something. The energy of the space felt like it was growing; Faith began to get wet, and her adrenaline began to rush as she could faintly taste pennies. Without even realizing her movements, her hand moved to the second kneeling woman when not an image appeared but rather a scene played out before her. She saw the same Black men standing behind one of the women while fucking her with his thick, veiny cock. He was chanting softly and thrusting, while the bent over woman met his every stroke with her own movements and breathily repeated, "Harder, Master! Faster, Master!" Her curly brown hair bounced everywhere as her large breasts swayed back and forth rapidly. Then, as suddenly as the images and thoughts and scenes appeared in her mind, the woman turned and looked directly at Faith with deep blue eyes that matched Fath's own and intensely said, "Drink from the well and serve your purpose, my daughter."

Faith blinked and found herself back in front of the wall, her sensations buzzing, and ears slightly ringing. She slowly pivoted one of her bare feet and turned her head to look at the well; the padlock was undone. She slowly stepped closer and closer to the well. Worried thoughts filled her head. What was she doing? Why didn't she just walk away? What in the world did she just see? But before she knew it, she was in front the well with her hand on the handle of the now opened lid. She gazed down into the water, now showing the reflection of that bright full moon. Good Christian girls don't do what she just saw. Good Christian girls shouldn't indulge in lustful, depraved urges. But her heart was racing, and her thighs rubbed against each other wet with her own juices; her body betraying her. She reached down into the well with both hands, cupped the water, and drank every last drop that she brought to her lips.

Faith felt... nothing... then she realized that the buzzing and the ringing started to die down; her heart slowed to a normal rate. Figuring it was all just an odd moment passing in time, she closed the lid and closed the lock. She slipped her feet back into her flip flops and headed back to her hotel. She changed into a large t-shirt and shorts, climbed into bed, and feel asleep quickly; the night having been quite exciting and tiring.

But once asleep, her dreams went back to the convent, back to the women, and back to that African man. He walked up to Faith and kissed her deeply. Despite her 5'8" height and thinner frame, Faith still felt small next to him. His hands gripped her hips as though he would not let go.

"You are the first to return in over 300 years. I came to Venice a slave, captured by traders and brought to the city to be sold for physical labor, but I escaped to the Convent. The Sisters there, like your ancestor Giulia, took me in and gave me sanctuary. They realized quickly that I was a shaman for my people - a healer and gift-giver.

They also quickly realized that I was endowed in the same way that men of a superior race all are. Humanity started in Africa; Princes and Kings of Africa never mixed with lesser species like your Neanderthals of Europe or Asia. I would lie with many of the Sisters, even granting my seed to a few. Soon I was discovered. The religious men of this land took me away, took away the offspring, dispersed the Sisters, and tore down this holy place. It would seem the world has forgotten about us, about the beauty and truth that we were living out. The purpose of inferior men and women is to serve their True Masters in whatever way they can. These Sisters served me by giving me protection and some by offering their bodies for my own pleasure. Do you see the truth in what I'm saying? Do you accept and embrace it?"

Faith was awash with thoughts. She has always been told that racism is wrong, and that all men were created in God's image... But he was right that humanity did start in Africa; that's scientifically proven. So then God's creation must be the African... And that would make her... something less. Then she looked to the man again, lingering on this hard, thick cock.

"Yes, this is the Truth," replied Faith, her eyes never leaving his cock.

"And how then will you serve?" asked the African.

Faith looked up to him, settled. "I will give you my everything. I will support African communities and businesses in my home country," and Faith removed her shirt. "I will offer my body for their pleasure and use, as my ancestor did," and Faith removed her shorts. "And I will help people of other inferior races to see this Truth and do likewise." To this, Faith knelt in submission, bearing all to her new Master.

The African looked her pale skin, her small breasts, and her wide hips and big ass. "You will be the Queen of our rebirth, Slut. Through you, a New Order will rise to reclaim my brethren's birthright of power over the races. Now please my superior cock and begin your life of service."

A month ago, Faith would have recoiled at being called "Slut". She would never have knelt before a man with the purpose of being used sexually; she was still a virgin after all! But now, on this day, on this trip to find the story of her ancestors, on this journey of self-discovery, she loved it; loved it all.

She lifted her hand and grasped the throbbing object of her desire. It was heavy, and almost too thick to wrap her hand around. She guided it to her mouth; the musk only made her want it more. The urge was primal. She licked the long underside of her new Master's shaft and then engulfed him in her mouth as best she could. She had blown boyfriends before, but they were never THIS; THIS was bigger and thicker and just better. Faith lavished her Master's cock with worship, licking and stroking his dark shaft until he grabbed her head from behind and started thrusting his cock into and out of her mouth.

"Such a good eager little cockslut you are! You can barely handle me and yet you do not tire; you do not run; you do not give up." With that, the African pulled out, flipped Faith around, and pushed her on all fours. He lined up behind Faith and slowly entered her virgin folds, his massive cock forcing her body to stretch to accommodate his. Faith winced in pain as he became more and more inside her until he seemed to reach resistance. "This is your last chance, my Slut. If I take your innocence, you will receive so much more! You will receive a true purpose and calling. You will be the Queen of my movement - once innocent, now converted to the Truth. Eager and driven to share and to see the movement grow. Do you want this? Do you accept this blessing of purpose and power for your life?"

Faith turned back to look at her Master, "I will serve my purpose!"

The Shaman thrust past her maidenhood and had gone further in Faith than anyone before; for Faith, the pain was exquisite and slowly gave way to pleasure. He had grabbed a fistful of her curly hair and used it like reins as he attacked her pussy like a beast in primal need. She felt the feeling depraved lust grow from within, stifled and hidden away after years of Sunday School and wholesome upbringing but now entertained and welcomed by her. She thought of the looks her older sister got because of her large breasts but that Faith never got herself; she thought of the boys who wouldn't date her because her ass was too big. She would tell herself that it didn't matter, that these were sinful thoughts and desires anyway and then deny herself the envy and anger while only embracing the guilt.

But no more! The feelings were set free to fill her mind, and the Shaman could see them; he smiled and spanked Faith's ass; all she could do was scream from the surprise... and smile back; maybe he heard. Faith moaned with pleasure, overwhelmed by the thoughts and sensations; the pleasure was unlike anything she has experienced before, and an orgasm rose up within her and washed across the whole of her shaking body. "Harder, Master! Faster, Master!" she begged needing more, just as Giulia had done before in Faith's vision. "Harder, Master! Fill me with your seed! I will serve my purpose!" He needed no better invitation as he thrusted one last time and unloaded rope after rope of his shamanic cum deep inside his newly claimed slut. Faith came again as her pussy milked every drop It could.

He pulled out slowly until his soft cock left her and smacked against his own leg. He took a finger and wiped up some of the combined mixture of their cum, "This is holy," he said. "The union of my seed and your, my Queen's, cum is powerful. For an inferior male to taste it, he will be open to see the Truth of his own inferiority. He will become suggestive and submissive, malleable even. To an inferior woman, her own lust will grow, and her body will only be sated by superior men or converted women. Use it wisely. Do you accept this power, my Queen?" Faith leaned forward and without breaking her intense eye contract, swallowed the Shaman's finger whole, savoring the taste of their combined juices.

As Faith did, she felt the energy grow again; the buzzing and ringing returning to her ears. She felt herself swoon and collapse only to wake up on the bed she went to sleep in the night before. She was surrounded by sheets soaked by her own sweat... and cum... and even a little blood between her legs. Her muscles and pussy ached with soreness. She struggled to come to terms with the dream that had overcome her the night before; it felt so real, but here she was.

She knew she had her flights back home to North Carolina today, so she quickly ran the shower and stepped in. She paid special attention to her sore pussy; it felt good to touch, and without realizing Faith began to rub herself and thought back to the dream the night before. The lust in her grew again, but as in the dream, she welcomed it. "Yes Master, Yes Master" she mumbled, her heat growing. And as she reached her peak, she yelled in clear voice, "I will serve my purpose!" Again, an orgasm racked her body causing it to shake and yet still go rigid. After catching her breath, she finished up and got dressed. Given how sore she was, she tried to wear loose-fitting clothing. She packed the rest of her belongings and made her way to the airport to begin the long, hopefully uneventful journey home.