tagNonConsent/ReluctanceCastaways of New Purgatory Ch. 03

Castaways of New Purgatory Ch. 03


*I'm being fucked,* Karen dreamed. *He's taking me from behind. My ass is in the air and my cheek is resting on my folded arms. His cock is perfectly fitted to me, and I can't bear the intensity of it. Each stroke tightens the tension another click. Screw your horniness to the sticking place, I think, recalling a line from Macbeth. I can't imagine being any hornier than I am now.*

*The tingling starts, the first sensation that will lead to the rush of orgasm, of climax, of coming. It's terrifying in its intensity, and moreso because I have no idea who's giving it to me. When I try to look back, a firm hand grabs the back of my head and presses it down. I can't see him, and he's completely silent. The only sounds are my own whimpering.*

*He pumps into me faster now. The wet, squelching sound is both shameful and exhilarating. I wonder at my own wetness, my own capacity, because now his cock seems enormous, plumbing depths of my body I never knew existed. I wonder in a panic if he's wearing a condom, but then I don't care, I want the hot sense of his cum spurting into me, or even better, splattering on my sweaty, bare ass as he pulls out at the last minute, leaving me aching and empty. I realize it's the sensation of being ABOUT to come that I crave, not the orgasm, and I want him to pull out, but he's not, and I'm about to come, and--*

Karen woke up with a cry. She stared up through the leaves of the shelter at the stars, visible through the tops of the palms. She was soaked with sweat, and the smell filled her nostrils.

She rose on her elbows and looked down the length of her naked body. Agnes slept curled at her feet, slowly unfurling after being awakened by Karen's cry. Then, without a word, she gently crawled between Karen's legs and bent her tongue again to its work.

Karen cried out at the first touch against her swollen, tender labia. The motion was slow, methodical, designed to conserve the nun's strength and allow her to continue for as long as possible. It was the motion of someone used to doing this.

Karen gasped as the orgasm built within her. Her clitoris and vulva began to tingle in anticipation, in real life not dream-time. "Oh, God," she whispered, and lowered herself back to the ground, "oh, Jesus, no, no more...." Then her spine arched and she clawed at the ground. She must've cried out, she always did when she came, but the blood rushing in her head blocked out the sound.

As the rush subsided, she felt the crushed handfuls of wet earth slip from her fingers. She sucked in lungfuls of heavy, humid air. When she could breath normally again, she raised her head. Agnes looked at her sympathetically, the nun's cheek resting against her thigh. Her mouth and chin shone with Karen's juices in the faint starlight.

Karen reached down and brushed hair from Agnes' face. She felt a wave of tenderness and compassion for the girl. "Let me do you," Karen said, trying to rise. "You've been so good to me, let me...."

Agnes shook her head and smiled. "No, I'm a nun, sworn to celibacy."

Karen fell back with a weak laugh. "What you're doing to me isn't celibacy, Sister."

"No, it's ministering to those in need. Giving you pleasure helps you overcome the evil that was done to you. Were I to let you do the same for me, though, I would be breaking my vow."

Karen draped an arm over her eyes. "Do you greet all the new arrivals this way?"

"If they need it," Agnes answered seriously. "Most do." She kissed the soft flesh at the top of Karen's triangle of pubic hair. "Do you need more?"

Karen licked her lips. She was certainly sated, having experienced -- or rather, endured -- more orgasms than she'd ever imagined possible. Yet the drug's side effects seemed to have ended. The polite thing would be to stop, thank the nun for her, ah, help and begin looking for a way to escape. But she didn't feel polite, and after all that had happened, this felt like the safest place around. It had nothing to do with sex, really, or finding another woman attractive. It was a matter of comfort when she felt most helpless and vulnerable.

"One more," she whispered, lay back and closed her eyes. "Please, baby, one more."

She moaned as the nun's tongue found her clit again, and a finger reached inside her to expertly stroke her g-spot. She let her legs fall wide, and draped one calf over the nun's back. She rubbed her heel up and down Agnes' spine in rhythm with her tongue strokes. This time the orgasm built deliciously slowly, swelling within her so that she hovered on the edge for what seemed like forever. When she finally came it was almost agony, and she wantonly grabbed the back of Agnes head, forcing the delightful mouth hard against her. Agnes responded by driving her tongue deep inside her, cupping Karen's buttocks and lifting her like a slice of watermelon.

Karen was asleep before the last shudders left her.

Karen was awakened by a female voice pleading, "Please!"

She opened her eyes. It was still dark, but the moon had risen, and silver bars of light played over the floor of the lean-to and her own bare skin. She heard the burbling of the spring outside, the noise of insects and what sounded like monkeys.

Then Agnes' voice, ever patient, ever kind, said, "Kellie, it's not possible. I explained it to you then, and I've done so again now. It was a way of helping you adjust. It would be mere wanton sex now."

"But I need it," another female voice whined. It was a young voice, younger than Agnes, with a slight Southern accent. Slowly Karen rolled onto her stomach so she could look out.

Agnes stood by the water. Facing her was a tall, slender blond girl, as naked as Karen and Agnes, holding a bouquet of flowers at her side. Her pale skin glowed white in the moonlight. She was also crying, the sparkling tears plain on her cheeks. "You're all I've got, you're the only one who's been kind to me," the girl pleaded. She pitifully offered Agnes the flowers.

Agnes touched the girl's face gently. "I'm so sorry, Kellie. I can understand how you feel. But I can't help you with it."

"But I don't want anyone else," the girl said, with a loud mucous-y snort. "I love you."

"That will pass," Agnes said. "Now please, there's a new arrival sleeping in my shelter, and I don't want to disturb her."

"Oh, did you fuck her like you did me?" Kellie spat.

"I ministered to someone in need," Agnes said. "As I did with you."

Agnes' even, rather ephemeral tone was beginning to creep Karen out. Her own body was wracked with soreness, and she felt sticky and unclean. She wanted a hot shower and a stiff drink. She crawled out of the shelter and stood, her legs wobbly.

"What's going on?" Karen asked, reflecting how strange it was for three naked women to be standing around chatting in the moonlight.

"You'll fuck her but not me?" Kellie demanded of Agnes, and hurled the pitiful bouquet at the nun. One small flower stuck to the sweaty curve of her breast.

"Why are you here?" Karen asked the girl. "What did you do to the Church?"

"What?" Kellie snapped. "Are you talking to me? Fuck off."

Karen summoned as much of her natural authority as she could under the circumstances. "I asked you a simple question, young lady," she said forcefully. "Why are you on this island?"

"I had an affair with a priest, okay?" she snapped defiantly. "He was my freshman college advisor. I tried to break it off, but he wanted to talk to me one last time. I had glass of wine, and then boom! Here I am, naked as a jaybird and so lonely it's killing me." Her voice cracked on the last phrase.

"Please don't hold this against her," Agnes said to Karen. She brushed Kellie's hair behind her shoulder, and the younger girl seized her palm and began to kiss it. Agnes gently pulled her hand away.

"I'm so lonely," Kellie whimpered. "All I can think about is what we did together." She tried to put her arms around Agnes, but the young nun blocked them. Then Kellie fell to her knees and managed to kiss the area around Agnes' navel several times before she was again rebuffed.

"I have to get off this island," Karen whispered to no one in particular.

(to be continued)

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