Sister of mercy..By Punchinello

France, 1685
In the cool evening quiet of her private chamber, Sister Charity slowly prepared for bed. She slipped out of her voluminous black habit and draped it across the bed casually. Glad to rid of the day’s demands, she went to the small window in her shift, and gazed down on the dark courtyard below. Altho the weather was cool, she had left the window open. Thru it came the fresh mountain air and the soft chirp of crickets.
Sister Charity untied the front of her soft white shift and loosened the lacing, grateful for the summer breeze that blew lightly across her pale skin. Just then, there came a knock at her chamber door.
Sister Charity pinched closed the lacing of her shift with her left hand and went to the door. She had not expected anyone, not this late, and could only guess at who it might be. She turned the knob and immediately felt the gentle pressure of an insistent hand pushing to get in.
It was Sister Dominique, her full lips pursed in worry, her brow knitted, her large, dark eyes quick and nervous.
“Sister Dominique—” Sister Charity said. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Sister Dominique gazed at Sister Charity with sudden recognition, genuine surprise. “Sister, I did not realize who’s door I’d knocked upon,” she said with her slight, endearing Italian accent.
“Dear sister,” Sister Charity said, “what’s wrong? Are you ill?”
“No, no, sister, I—I don’t think.” Sister Dominique was distraught and distracted.
“Then what is it, sister?” Sister Charity asked. She led Sister Dominique to the bed and sat with her at the edge of it.
“Sister, I—I must confess—” Sister Dominique began haltingly. “I had a vision…. A dream and a vision.”
“A vision? What do you mean?” Her loose bodice forgotten, Charity shift fell open to the cool night air.
Sister Dominique wrung her hands in her lap and bit her lip worriedly. “The Holy Virgin—I had a dream that I was visited by the Holy Virgin.”
“Glory!” Sister Charity exclaimed. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” said Sister Dominique. “The Holy Virgin came to me—she came to me in the form of a phantom, sister.”
“Oh my dear. Oh no, bless us. Sister you can’t be serious,” objected Sister Charity. “The Holy Virgin came to you as a ghost?”
“Yes. She blessed me and she kissed me and she said…sweet things to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I shouldn’t say.” Dominique turned away.
“You must!” Charity pleaded, taking Dominique’s small, warm hands in her own.
“She came to me,” Dominique began timidly, “bathed in light...with stars in her hair, and with a blessing and with beautiful sweet kisses....”
“Oh my, how wondrous!” Charity marveled. She half turned, gazing off at the ceiling, one hand at her breast to calm her pounding heart.
“But, Sister,” Dominique whimpered. “She was soft and beautiful and—“
Dominique blushed bright red and lowered both her eyes and her voice. “Sister, she was nude—she wore nothing at all but grace and favor.”
“Sister Dominique! What are you saying? This was the Holy Virgin?”
Sister Dominique began to fret at her shift and bite her lip. Yet she couldn’t help but stare at Charity’s open shift, the loose bodice revealing the soft round curve of her small, white breasts. The rose bud of one pert breast peeked out, pinched and stiff in the cool air. Charity was lost in thought, stroking her cheek absently.
Dominique turned to her suddenly. “Sister, I am sorry,” she said, her voice a husky, accented whisper. “I should not have come. But I felt I had to tell you. And when I had the vision in the corridor, I simply knocked at the first door I came to....” She did not move to leave.
Charity looked at Dominique softly. The woman’s eyes were deep and sincere, red and rimmed with wetness; forlorn. “Dominique,” Sister Charity said, “What do you think it means? What is the vision you had outside?”
“It is true: a vision of the Holy Virgin ghostly form, dressed only in light, and smiling...blessing, with a locket around her neck.”
“What does it mean? A phantom, sister?”
“I don’t know,” Sister Dominique said, breaking into tears and burying her face in her hands. Sister Charity put her arms around the young woman to comfort her, patting her lightly, stroking her hair. For a moment, Dominique was confronted with Charity’s full, bare bosom, and she flushed red again and closed her eyes.
“Do you think it was a demon?” Sister Charity asked suddenly, whispering for fear of the dark. “A succubus?”
Sister Dominique sat up suddenly and put her hand on Sister Charity’s thigh. “No,” she denied, “it could not have been. She was beautiful. She was a lovely girl, unclad, surrounded by light. She did not do wicked things, nor say wicked words....”
“Even so, sister—” Sister Charity said.
“Bless me, sister,” Sister Dominique said defiantly. “If there be any demons within me, order them out.” She sat up straight and faced Sister Charity, looking her deeply in the eye.
Charity kissed her thumb and reached out, making the sign of the cross on Dominique’s forehead. Dominique sucked her lip nervously, and then touched Charity’s hand.
“No demons,” she said simply. She kissed her own thumb and put it to Sister Charity’s forehead, making the sign of the cross with slow reverence.
The two young women stared at one another for a few quiet moments, a touch of wetness gleaming on Sister Charity’s forehead. Then Charity kissed her thumb a second time and reached out to Dominique again. But Dominique took her hand and pressed the thumb to her full, red lips. She let go and Charity’s hand fell limp into her lap.
Dominique kissed her own thumb a second time and put it to Charity’s soft lips. Charity kissed it gently, flicking her tongue at it, suckling it with soft, timid, lips. “She kissed you?” Charity asked with soft and timid lips.
“She came to me bare-breasted, bathed in light,” Dominique said boldly. “Her bosom was pale pink and smooth, just—just as your own.”
Charity looked down at her chest, the loose bodice, the tight, erect nipples showing thru. She sucked her bottom lip and unlaced the strands that still held in her bosom. Her breasts pushed at the thin fabric, bold, desiring, until at last they spilled from the open front of Charity’s shift, fully bare and sharp-nippled.
“Oh, sister,” Dominique said breathlessly, “you are as beautiful as I had imagined.”
“Dominique—” Charity breathed.
Dominique leaned away, her mouth still have open. “Sister, I can’t— This must be wrong.”
“This was your vision, sister....”
Charity leaned forward and took Dominique’s elbow, pulling her close. Then she pressed her warm, pink lips to Dominique’s full, wet mouth in a soft, lingering kiss. Charity kissed her friend’s flushed cheek and pressed her own cheek to the moist skin. “Please…,” Charity breathed into Dominique’s ear.
Dominique stared at Charity’s beautiful breasts for a long moment, admiring their roundness and prominence. At last, she put her hands on Charity’s sides, looking deep into the beautiful woman’s eyes and then bending to kiss the sweet, red nipple over her heart. She kissed it and licked it, sucking gently, nibbling softly.
“Oh, sister—” Charity breathed. “Mmmmmm. Oh, Dominique....” She ran her fingers thru Sister Dominique’s thick, dark hair, luxuriating in its long curls. She caressed Dominique’s neck and ran a finger down her spine, wanting desperately to peel away the cloth and touch the soft, smooth skin beneath. “Kiss me,” she breathed.
Sister Dominique’s head slowly rose, her large, dark eyes following only reluctantly. Her lips were full and wet and red; her tongue darted out to wet them again. They pressed their lips together then, soft and eager, parting almost at once to taste one another with light, timid tongues.
“We shouldn’t go further—” whispered Charity.
“We must,” murmured Dominique. “We absolutely must!” She was mad with desire.
“I want to touch you,” Charity confessed. “Open your robes.”
Dominique stood and raised her robes; Charity helped her pull them over her head and lay them aside on the chair. Then Charity watched as Dominique unlaced her own shift. Her breasts were larger than Charity’s, the same warm olive tone as her beautiful, diamond-shaped face. The shift fell away, and Dominique stood before Charity completely nude.
“This is the way Saint Mary came to me in my vision.”
“And she kissed you—” Charity said. Dominique came and stood over her. Charity looked up at Dominique’s slender, graceful form, dizzy with desire. Dominique bent down and licked her lover’s lips, sucked them, and then kissed her full and hard.
Charity let out a little gasp and pulled her raven-haired sister down onto the bed on top of her. “Oh my sweet harlot,” she breathed.
The naked girls pressed their soft bodies together, marveling at the pleasures the flesh could bring. They locked her hips together so that their girlish mounds could rub, and they rocked gently against one another, back and forth. “Mmmm,” moaned Charity. “The feeling is delicious! You are so warm, sister! So tender!”
Dominique felt her moist slit tingle at the sound of Charity’s words. She kissed her sister-lover urgently and whispered, “Oh, Charity, my darling, hold me!”
They nuzzled each other’s necks, pressing hot kisses as they made love, their soft sexes meshing wetly. “Uhh, uhh, uhh,” they moaned together, two voices with one wordless thought. “Oh yes, oh, my little darling,” Dominique moaned.
“Come hard against me,” Charity urged. “I’m a sinful girl, but I cannot stop. Please don’t stop, sister.” Dominique’s full breasts rocked back and forth in front of her, enticing her to further lusty sins. She licked and sucked at them, taking one nipple in her mouth and sucking hard.
“Oh, my titty,” Dominique groaned. “You’re wonderful, Charity. Oh, you are wonderful. Suck it.”
They rocked together in the bed, moaning urgently to one another, driving each other to hot and taxing ecstasy. “Ohhh! OHHHH!” Charity groaned as she hit her body’s pleasure peak.
“Ahh, ahh, unhh! OHHH!” Dominique echoed, driving hard against her young lover and feeling the waves of orgiastic bliss sweep over her. She trembled with excitement, holding Charity close against her, their naked forms pressed as one flesh, their sex fluids mixing as one.
They parted, perspiring, sticky from their illicit lusting, exhausted. The lay together, kissing softly, murmuring sweetly into one another’s ear, and caressed each other’s beautiful nude body. At last, Dominique rose reluctantly to go. She put on her shift and robes again, adjusted her wimple on her head, kissed Charity piously on the forehead, and departed softly down the corridor.
Charity fell back, nude and thoughtful, and dreamed of her passion for Dominique all thru the night.

The next day, the two young nuns stole moments to be together and whisper about their day. They even made plans to meet again that night and seek out the lovely nude ghost of the Blessed Virgin.
When night finally came, Dominique rapped lightly on Charity’s door to be let in. The girl’s greeted with a sweet kiss on the lips and little pressing tongues that tasted each other. Almost wordlessly, they began to disrobe. “We’ll go about in our shifts alone,” Charity said.
“The sisters will only think us going out for the chamber pot,” agreed Dominique.
“Let us go into the same corridor where you saw her,” Charity suggested. “And we will see if we can conjure her up again.”
“Oh, but will she come to us now?” asked Dominique, self-consciously covering her open bodice, adding with a hiss, “We are wicked.”
Charity pulled her hand away and gazed on Dominique’s full, smooth bosom. “We must ask her for forgiveness,” she said. “She will understand a pure heart beats inside this breast.” She kissed Dominique’s bare bosom and covered it again with the bodice and a loose tie.
The girls crept down the corridor, quietly at first, just a candle each. When they got deeper into the abbey, they were away from the chambers in daily use and had less need to stay quiet.
Dominique led the way down the dark corridors, black as any cave without windows or lamps. They found a set of small rooms with a scattering of belongings, obviously used as chambers for sisters in the days when the abbey had more residents.
“Look! Is this a lock of hair?” asked Charity.
“Shh!” cried Dominique. “Listen!” They did. A rushing, scraping sound came to them from far away, down one echoing corridor or another.
“How did she come to you before?” Charity asked.
“I think there was a sound like this.” The girls tentatively went back to exploring, coming upon a few more personal objects left behind by those in a hurry to leave the convent.
“I’ve found a silver comb!” Charity exclaimed, turning from the little niche in the wall where the tarnished piece had been hidden for years. But, instead of Sister Dominique, there before her—floating weightless just above the floor—was an apparition, shimmering, pale, and translucent. “Oh!” she cried out.
The phantom girl laid a finger aside her nose, in the old fashion of hushing. Dominique turned also and the two nuns regarded the apparition. She was wan and thin, youthful—perhaps 20, just a little older than the girls who stared at her. And she was as naked as ever a woman could be—except for a little locket on a chain around her neck. Her breasts were small, her waist slender; she had a hairy bush and thin legs. Her face was gentle but sunken, with deep, mournful eyes with a soulful stare. The ghost girl’s lips seemed to move, but not as tho she were speaking, and no sound came from them. She moved languidly, as tho dazed, with slow, uncertain movements.
“She is beautiful,” Charity murmured.
“Do you think she is the Holy Virgin?” Dominique asked, pressing close to Charity.
“I don’t know.”
The ghostly figure moved about them, reaching out her slender arm, touching Charity and Dominique with a phantom touch. She stroked their hair, their cheeks. Her touch was like a cool cloth, and it send a chill down Charity’s young spine. At last, the girl pressed closer and kissed Charity on the lips, sending a thrill all thru her as she had never felt. She and Dominique pressed closer together, their whole bodies touching, taking comfort in their warmth.
The spirit ran a finger down Charity’s cheek and throat, down to her breasts, and untied her bodice. Charity’s breath came in quick puffs, a certain terror welling inside her, tempered only by Dominique’s warm form embracing her. But Dominique sided with the ghostly figure and pulled the thin cotton shift off Charity’s shoulders, exposing her pointed breasts, their nipples small and hard. “She wants us naked too,” Dominique breathed hotly in her ear.
The shift came down Charity’s body to the crumple on the floor, exposing her completely. Dominique unlaced her own body and let the shift fall around her ankles also, leaving both young girls in nothing but their soft slippers. Charity embraced Dominique’s naked body, desperate for its warmth and security. Dominique held her close, felt the beating of her heart, smelled her hair, as the ghostly girl touched her also, running a weightless hand down her olive-skinned back, sending such electric thrills thru her that her warm little cunny immediately began to moisten with desire.
The frightened nuns held each other desperately, hearts pounding, as the spirit girl touched both of them together, caressed their buttocks, and slid her hands between their legs. As one, they gave a gasp, the cold hands of the phantom touching their most tender parts, then rising again, up their backs to their necks.
“Oh, sister,” Charity gasped. “I may come to crisis!”
Dominique kissed her warmly, their tongues crossing. “Make love with me here, on the floor.”
“Oh, darling,” Charity breathed. They knelt down together on their discarded shifts. Dominique lay back and spread her legs. But Charity, rather than lying on top of her and grinding her pelvis with Dominique’s again, kissed her naked young lover on the breasts and belly, and then went down between her legs.
“I want to kiss your cunny,” Charity said boldly.
“Oh, sister!” Dominique gasped. Charity’s tongue slid over her warm skin, down into her thighs, and finally tasted her sweet nectar. “Mmmm,” the reclining girl moaned. She felt the cool touch of the spirit on her breasts, touching both her nipples, mixing a frightening chill with the warm bliss of Charity’s tongue on her slit.
Charity fingered herself as she lapped at her lover’s vulva, making Dominique quiver and moan, and she found the little fold of pink flesh that could make a woman utterly lose control. She licked and sucked at it, mixing cunny-milk and her own saliva. Dominique groaned hotly and ran her hands thru Charity’s hair.
“Ohhh, darling,” she gasped. “Ohhh, my sweet lover. Kiss it! Suck it! Oh!” Charity frigged her own slit feverishly as she licked at Dominique’s, raising a hot lust deep inside herself that spread thru her body, pushing her to the brink of ecstasy.
“OH! Yes! YES, DARLING!” Dominique’s body shook and shivered, tensing hard as Charity gave a final suckle on her juicy slit, and collapsed on the hard floor.
Charity worked her fingers hard into her own cunt, fingering her clit with her middle finger with a quick wrist and hot moans of her own. “Nunh, nuhn... Unh, unh, ohh! OHHH!” she gasped, finally huffing and groaning to a mind-shattering orgasm of her own. A shroud of warmth washed over her and sent tingling feelings to her arms and legs.
Charity crawled up Dominique’s beautiful, naked form and kissed her on the full, red mouth, making the girl taste her own cunny-milk. They embraced gently, gloriously nude, and curled up on their shifts in the cool, dark room. The spirit was gone.
When they finally spoke, their voices were hushed echoes. Dominique spoke. “I love you, darling.”
“We are wicked, aren’t we? We’ll be damned for eternity. Who is she, do you think? Is she the Blessed Virgin?”
“If she is,” said Dominique, “then were are not damned. She surely gives her blessing on this union.”
“I’m frightened,” Charity whispered. “Let us go back to our rooms.”
The dressed again quickly, finding that their shifts had become rumpled and dirty from their lusty wallowing on the floor. They took their candles and went out into the corridors again, finding their way back toward the inhabited rooms.
But before they came to their rooms, the sinful sisters saw a lamp-light suddenly around a corner. It was Sister Herma, an older nun and in a position of some authority.
Sister Herma glowered at the young girls. “Come with me,” she said grimly. They made no argument. They knew they must plead their case to the Mother Superior.

The Mother Superior listened as the girls finished their story of the apparition of the Virgin Mary—leaving out the sinful acts they had committed together afterward. But the Mother Superior seemed to sense them nonetheless.
“You are stupid, foolish girls,” she spat. “This was not the Blessed Virgin you have seen.”
“It was not?” Dominique asked innocently.
A grave look came over the beautiful Mother Superior’s face. “It was a fiend—a ghostly fiend.”
“Oh no,” gasped Charity.
“Oh, yes, young sister,” Mother Superior went on. “This spirit has walked these corridors for years now, appearing to foolish young novices and nuns, revealing her nakedness—tempting them to sinful acts.”
“Oh, goodness,” Dominique whimpered.
“This was the ghost of a wicked prioress, a full fiendish wench who seduced pretty young girls and corrupted them, even murdered them.”
“Oh, saints preserve us,” Charity whispered, thinking how close she and Dominique must have come to their ultimate damnation—murdered in a sinful act of lechery.
“They caught her, you know, and tried her for witchcraft,” the Mother Superior went on. “And they righteously put her to death for it, God rest her filthy soul. But her spirit lingers, still roaming the halls, naked as a whore, still seducing young sisters into a life of wickedness and shame.”
Dominique began to cry.
“Follow me,” the Mother Superior said. “I will show her lair. There is where you will make your atonement for your sins.”
“Yes, Mother Superior,” the girls said in unison.
They went out of the Mother Superior’s chambers and into the dark hall carrying lamps. They ventured deep in the abbey, beyond the rooms they had explored earlier, into rooms that had been disused for many years.
At last, opening a large, solid door, Mother Superior revealed a huge, echoing chamber, dark and cavernous. “This,” said the older nun, “is where she brought them. This is where she bound them and fondled them—taught them to sin as she sinned, to lust as she lusted. She kept them as her sinful slaves until she tired of them.”
“And then?” Charity asked foolishly.
“And then she murdered them, of course.”
Lighted with their lamps, and with the large, half-burned candles mounted on stands around the room, the room gave the impression of a torture chamber. Wooden stocks stood to one side. Chains and shackles were scattered around. Whips and switches still sat at the ready in a rack of their own. A dark pit eight feet across gaped on the far side, half-shrouded in shadows.
“Here is where you must make atonement,” Mother Superior said. “Take off your habits.”
“Oh, Mother Superior, please—” Charity began to protest.
“I shall hear none of it!” the older woman shouted. “You must be cleansed of your sins and of the evil spirits that have settled in you. Do you deny that you have sinned?”
Charity and Dominique both hung their heads in abject shame. “No, Mother Superior.”
“Take off your robes. You will kneel in prayer and take your punishment like loyal Christians.”
“Yes, Mother Superior.”
The girls began to undress, embarrassed enough at first but, as their slender limbs were uncovered for the second time that evening, soon burning with mortal shame and remorse. They cried hot tears down red cheeks as they slipped out of their shifts and hung them on iron hooks, naked and self-conscious, humiliated already but knowing the worst was still in store for them.
“Kneel on the carpet,” Mother Superior demanded. “Hands on floor; head on hands.” She pulled a large wooden paddle from the rack. “Say your prayers.”
The nude young nuns kneeled on the musty, rust-stained carpet, putting their hands flat on the floor and their foreheads on top of them; this forced their round, white bottoms up off their heels. As they began to say their prayers of contrition, the tears flowed heavily, and their young breasts shook as they wept. They kept their eyes closed tight, knowing and fearing the Mother Superior’s next steps.
WHACK! The paddle came down across both girl’s bottoms, causing them to gasp in mid-sentence. “Continue!” Mother Superior demanded.
The young nuns resumed their prayers, desperate for quick absolution, as another stroke of the paddle came down. WHACK! And again WHACK! Now their mournful prayers with filled with gasps and sobs. Their soft bottoms were warm and pink.
Mother Superior sent the next few strokes to Dominique alone—WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!—causing the girl to cry out for mercy and gaining only more attention—WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! “Oh, please, Mother! Oh please!” the girl sobbed.
But Mother Superior had already turned to Charity. WHACK! WHACK! The weeping girl howled as the long wooden paddle lashed her pink bottom. WHACK! WHACK! “Oh please! No more!” WHACK! WHACK!
Both girls took more strokes from the heavy paddle before the older nun was satisfied. They were quivering children of penitence then as she reached for another implement. Dominique heard her spit twice; then her hot, red backside felt the cold press of wrought iron. She gasped at the sudden chill, especially as the slender rod moved to probe the pink slit below her bottom, dripping with spittle. “Oh!” she cried. “Oh dear!”
The cold iron moved against her private parts, rubbing provocatively, sending chills up her bare back and thru her sharp, red nipples. Charity felt the same, a cold, iron finger, lubricated with the Mother’s spittle, probing her lewdly, making her gasp.
“Feel the cold iron,” Mother Superior growled. “Let it inside you. You must exorcise the demons now with the spirit of the Lord!” She worked the probes she held in each hand, pressing them against the girl’s pink sexes, making them whimper.
“Move your hips. Take the probe into your loins. You are wives of Christ, you must remember. Give yourselves to Him now. Only with sexual release will you gain His mercy!”
The naked girls began to grind their backsides against the iron probes. They could feel spirit of the Lord move over them, warming their whole bodies, flushing their pink slits with juices. The probes moved more easily in and out, working firmly into their fresh young cunnies, which had so recently felt their own sinful fingers and tongues. They were filled up with the cold, hard grace of God as they moved their naked backsides in rhythm with the Mother Superior’s two-fisted probing.
“Anh! Anh! Oh yes now!” Dominique cried out, feeling a crisis coming upon her.
“Oh! Oh yes!” cried Charity, feeling the same as the iron implements ravished her cunny.
“Annnnnnnnnnh! ANH! UNH! UHN! YES!” Dominique gasped. “YES! Do it to me, Mother Superior! I’m coming to crisis! Give me forgiveness! OH! OH!”
Dominique’s cries of orgasm sent Charity in an equal frenzy, pushing hard against the iron probe, cunt gushing sex-milk with lewd, wet sounds. “OH! Oh, yes! YES! YES! Mother Superior! Make me come for Christ! I am a filthy whore! Make me clean again! UNH! UNH!”
The naked girls collapsed, utterly spent, their red cunts seeping sex juices. “Now it is my turn,” Mother Superior said darkly. In a moment, she had clapped shackles on both girls’ arms! The young nuns cried out in protest, desperate to end their punishment, but the Mother Superior dragged them to a long bench and laid them out on it.
The girls lay head to head, their long hair mingling. To their astonishment, the beautiful Mother Superior had disrobed, revealing a lean and attractive body. Her breasts were large and heavy, her vagina shaved clean and swelled red with eagerness for satisfaction. “Oh, Mother!” Sister Charity exclaimed.
“Lie back, my darling. It is my turn now to feel the pleasure of Christ—on your pretty faces!” She slung one leg over the girls and positioned her cunt over Chastity’s face. “Suck it, my little darlings! If you want forgiveness, suck my cunny like good little daughters of the church. Suck it like the sluts you are!”
Charity did as she was told, licking the Mother Superior’s long pussy lips and tasting the tangy juices on it. “Now you, Dominique,” she said, moving over the older girl. “Suck it hard, you little whore. Suck it and make that bitch appear before us.”
“Yes, Mother!” Dominique cried, and she applied her full mouth to Mother Superior’s dangling cunt lips.
Back and forth once and again the Mother Superior went from Charity to Dominique, rubbing her wet twat on their faces, urging them to suck her and lick her to her pleasure, at last gasping in orgasmic delight with lewd grunts. “Unh! Unh! Unh! Suck it! Suck it you slut! Fuck my cunt with your mouth! Fuck it hard! Unh! Oh! OH! OH! OHHHH!” She collapsed on top of her young lovers in perfect rapture.
Charity and Dominique squirmed under the Mother Superior for a moment, but she pushed them off the bench to the cold stone floor. “Are we forgiven now, Mother Superior?” Dominique ventured, offering her shackles to the naked woman lying back on the bench.
“Forgiven?!” the woman thundered. “You, forgiven?” The naked girls cowered before her. “You filthy little sluts will NEVER be forgiven!”
“OH! But Mother Superior—” She slapped them both hard across the face and laughed cruelly.
“You sinful harlots with rot forever in damnation!” She dragged them bodily over to the gaping hole in the floor. They struggled and cried, but their wrists were shackled and their bodies were weak. “Into the oubliette with you!”
Mother Superior pushed the naked girls into the dark pit, where they fell together onto a pallet of straw, bruising their arms and knees. The bottom of the pit of dark and foul, smelling of age and death. The opposite side was too far across to see, altho it was less than ten feet. The sides were smooth and vertical, and too high to climb. The girls cried out desperately to the Mother Superior to relent and save them.
“You filthy whores of Babylon! You little temptresses! You are like all the others now—those sluts who tempted me, corrupted me to sinful ways! They had to die and SO WILL YOU!”
“But Mother,” Dominique cried out, “they tried the wicked prioress for witchcraft! They executed her! Surely her evil time is over!”
“Oh, did I say they executed the wicked prioress? I should have said that they promoted her to Mother Superior! Ha, ha, ha, ha!”
“What?!” The girls were stunned and baffled.
Mother Superior cackled madly. “The poor fools tried an innocent girl, a poor wretch who couldn’t defend herself, whom I accused. Ha, ha, ha!”
“Dominique!” Charity hissed. “I’ve found a corpse!”
“...And I threw her naked into the oubliette,” Mother Superior confessed wickedly, “where she died of thirst! HA, HA, HA!”
“Look!” Charity held up her hands to the sliver of light that reached them from above. It was a little silver locket—the same one worn by the ghost who had come to them before.
“It’s true,” gasped Dominique.
“‘God will give her sustenance if she is innocent,’ I told them! ‘The Lord shall provide!’ Ha, ha, ha, ha, HA!”
“Oh God, save us!” the girls cried.
“Oh, how she protested! Oh, how she pleaded! JUST LIKE YOU’LL PLEAD! HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!”
“No!” Dominique howled. Charity sobbed in terror and shame. Then Dominique caught her breath. “Charity, look!”
The ghostly apparition of the innocent girl hovered over the pit, a silvery fog in the form of a beautiful naked girl. “Save us! Oh save us please!” Charity cried out.
“Bitch!” The Mother Superior screamed and lashed out with a heavy rope studded with iron hooks down part of its length. The girls in the pit could just see how the older woman swung the weapon at the phantom, see it pass thru and catch on a wooden beam. She pulled it free and swung it again, heedless of the way it passed harmlessly thru the ghost.
The ghostly girl floated about, swooping higher and lower, drawing the Mother Superior closer to the oubliette. At last, the nun caught herself up in the hooks and stumbled, screaming madly, and fell headlong into the pit. Her naked body got hung up on the hooks part-way down and left her hanging and screaming maniacally, blood pouring from her open wounds.
Seeing their chance, the violated girls acted quickly. With grisly determination, Dominique boosted Charity up to grab onto the Mother Superior’s hair and climb up her nude, inverted form, grasping at her breasts and her thighs for handholds. The screaming woman fought and writhed on the hideous iron hooks as Charity scrambled nimbly over her to safety.
In a moment, the girl threw down a knotted rope to Dominique, who climbed it up thru the darkness, also groping Mother Superior’s naked body for firmer grips. She fought and kicked at the older woman, desperate to stay out of her clutches, and at last planted a foot firmly in the woman’s crotch and lunging to safety above, stained with the Mother Superior’s blood. Charity dragged her away as Mother Superior fell from the hooks with the blood-curdling sound of the tearing of flesh and a horrified scream. There followed the sound of bones crunching against the stone floor of the oubliette and afterwards silence.
“Dear God, she’s dead!” Charity whimpered.
“Rest her soul, the wicked hag,” the blood-smeared Dominique said, crossing herself.
“Look!” cried Charity and pointed to the space above the pit. The ghostly girl, radiant and unclothed, held out her hands to Charity and Dominique and pressed them to her breast. She ascended slowly, filled with light and grace, thru the ceiling of the chamber.
“Into heaven,” gasped Dominique.
“She’s at rest now,” Charity said.
“God bless her soul.”
“God bless her soul,” Charity echoed. The nude girls kissed sweetly in the dim chamber of horrors and huddled together in the gloom. They held each other’s smooth bodies for a long moment. “Let us go now,” she said softly.
“What shall we tell them?” Dominique wondered aloud. “My God, whatever shall we tell them?”
All models are 18 years or older, regardless of the text.
Not affiliated with Sisters of Mercy or the Sisters of Mercy.