A Nun deflowered
The sun shone. Leaves rustled gently in the breeze. The brook babbled noisily. Lambs frolicked and played. I was bored. Two hours to spare. Everyone working hard when they saw me approach, then slacking I was bored frustrated and angry.
I wanted a plump wench, though not a plump wench’s inevitable offspring, or a fine lady, though not a fine lady’s acid tongue. The bordello was an hour hence by horse which would make me late home. The day was not going well.
I spied the Convent in the distance. Built upon my land I maintained the Droit de Signeur over the occupants, though I admit I seldom exercised it. For where is the pleasure in ploughing an unwilling wench? Some may enjoy forcing their member up an unwilling channel but not I. I like a channel agape, moistened, ready and willing.
I rode to the door and secured my steed. I banged the door with the heavy iron knocker.
“Go away,” a woman said.
“Open the door!” I ordered, “Do you not know who I am?”
“Lord Goth, sire to half the orphans in our care,” the woman said harshly, “Go away.”
“I shall not, I shall have you for your insolence if you do not keep a civil tongue,” I insisted as I spoke through the key hole.
The door bolts were withdrawn and the door swung. A nun glowered at me, “What do you want as if I do not know.”
“Why an unsullied wench wherein to exercise my cockstaff,” I explained reasonably, “As is my right.”
“Then you must see the mother superior,” she said, “Wait here.”
The wait was interminable. Then the Mother Superior and aged spinster of some 100 years by the look of her and two assistant Nuns swept in.
“Lord Goth, I understand you wish to exercise your carnal rights?” the Mother Superiors assistant asked sarcastically.
“Indeed,” I agreed, she must have been 60 years if a day, thought fully alert unlike the old crow.
“Dear god why? It is Eighteen Hundred and Two, not the dark ages, we seek to eschew the life of debauchery and yet you defile us.” she railed.
“Sister Martha,” the old crow chided.
“Madam how can you eschew that of which you know nothing?” I asked.
“I have see the pain of childbirth many times,” she said.
“And never known the delight of a good cockstaffing, that is no basis for debate,” I taunted.
“Oh very well, the new novices await you,” she conceded.
I went to their dormitory. It hit me like a fist, they were so young. “Are they of age?” I queried.
“Why yes, it is you who have grown old,” she taunted.
“I am but thirty six,” I insisted.
“And I dare say one or more is your daughter sir,” she spoke barbedly. And probably truly for I had been exercising the right on father’s behalf since my own coming of age.
“One more word and I’ll exercise my right on you,” I threatened.
“Too late, your father forced his evil appendage within me already,” she smirked.
The third Nun looked on, her robes were grey not black, “And you madam?” I asked, “Or have you taken a vow of silence?”
She looked at the floor.
“Sister Cecile is taking a rest cure, she is exhausted from her labours among fallen women in the Metropolis.”
She looked quite comely.
“Fallen women?” I asked.
“Indeed, poor broken women forced into debauchery by evil men such as you,” the grey clad nun answered.
“And paid well for doing what they crave,” I countered.
“Crave, they detest every moment,” she replied.
“And how would you know, had a cockstaff up you have you?” I asked angrily.
“No!” she insisted.
“A bride of Christ as yet unfucked,” I smiled, “Then madam I fear our paths are about to entwine.”
“What?” she asked.
“I am afraid Lord Goth has a right to every maid’s maidenhead,” the older Nun explained. “Every maid on the estate before her marriage must surrender her maidenhead to Lord Goth, it is written in to the gift of land for the Convent from Lord Goth the third.”
“Maid?” the nun asked awkwardly.
“Maid, girl any unplucked pure,” the older nun continued, “His father took mine.”
“Then thank heaven I am not of the parish,” the grey nun replied.
“It makes no difference,” the older nun insisted, “It is his right.”
“I should rather die,” the grey clad nun insisted, but her cheeks flushed red as she said it.
I cast an eye over her robes as much as I could. She looked quite slim yet firm as far as I could tell, not too tall nor short, pale skin unblemished, a pleasant nose, nice even white teeth, a not entirely evil scowl, eminently fuckable.
“Very well, the convent will make an admirable cow shed.” I countered
“You jest, you are taunting me!” she insisted.
“And you will stake the future of the Convent upon it?” I asked.
“Very well you have until mid night.” I replied, “You know where I reside.”
“Wait my Lord, take a glass of wine,” the older nun suggested.
“Madam I need more than a glass of wine, send the wench or pack your things,” I insisted, “You have until mid night, if I can not have the wench you shall vacate the premises forthwith, do you understand?”
“He is taunting us,” the grey clad nun blustered.
“I wish you good day,” I replied icily and went for my horse.
I had not gone three furlongs when I heard a plaintive cry, “Wait!”
A grey clad figure was rushing after me, “Come back!” she shouted.
I ambled on, and she chased after me, her long skirts hitched up to her waist as she ran along the rutted track until at length I stopped.
“I submit,” she gasped as she caught up with me.
“Really?” I enquired, “You sound unenthusiastic?”
“I shall submit, I have no enthusiasm, but I shall submit, no more.” she answered.
“Then that is not enough, you must ask for my indulgence,” I smirked as my member stiffened delightfully.
“Ask?” she queried.
“Plead for a length of my cockshaft, I taunted.
“Very well, please,” she asked in annoyance.
“Say ‘Please cock me,” I taunted.
“Oh just do it!” she sighed and she lofted her skirts to her chin.
She was entirely bare beneath. Her breasts hung like ripe pears, her mound hid beneath a flurry of golden curls and her teats were roused and her quim glistened.
“Oh you poor thing,” I teased as I dismounted from my steed, “Your needs must be assuaged forthwith!”
There was a barn, and a stone wall but my dander was up and I was not to be delayed, I pushed her gently against the wall and extracted my member.
I spread her knees and as she hid her face behind her skirts I eased my swollen member gently within her.
It was paradise, nothing mattered but she and I. My member slid liquidly within her womb, tightly yet oh so pleasantly. She gasped at my intrusion, but then merely whimpered.
I floated as if on a cloud as I ploughed her so much so that I barely notice two yokels as the approached with a flock of sheep.
“Lower your skirt hem I wish to kiss you,” I whispered.
“Nnng,” she muttered, “No!”
All too soon my seed was boiling, gushing, spilling. It shot furiously through my cockstaff and exploded within her virgin womb.
She shuddered and cried and dropped the hem of her skirt. Her eyes were full of tears and a curl of red escaped her mouth where she had bitten her lip.
“Ohhh that’s sooo good,” I gasped as I held her tightly. I remained in heaven as my member convulsed and convulsed again filling her with my seed.
I pulled at the hood covering her head and released her golden curls and kissed her neck marking her as mine with a love bite.
Suddenly it was over. Sheep were Baa-ing around us, yokels looked on. My breeches were around my ankles.
“Evenin’ Master, Evenin’ Master, Master,” they said in turn as they looked on, “Evenin’ Miss.”
The nun, for I still knew not her name, blushed crimson as I withdrew and allowed her skirts to fall hiding her comely legs.
“You brute, you monster!” she railed, but there was no sincerity.
“Next time will be with tenderness,” I promised.
“What next time?” she asked, “I have honoured my part of the bargain.”
“Look around,” I said. “Three yokels, good men and true witnessed our union, neither of us are married, that makes us married in common law.”
“I do not understand,” she said as she sat down on the grass beside the stone wall.
“Quite simple, a common law marriage,” I paused. “Our union has been witnessed, we are wed in common law, your days as a nun are ended,” I lied but she knew no different.
“No, it cannot be!” she protested.
“Of course if either of us fornicate with another before sundown it is anulled,” I taunted, “But then we will have to have the blacksmith brand you as a whore.”
I fastened my breeches, she smoothed down her robe. “I have quite an appetite. The kitchen awaits. Come!” I ordered.
I led the horse and somewhat to my surprise the nun followed.
“Ostler, my horse.” I bellowed as I flung his reins over the hitching post just inside the courtyard beside my house.
“Food,” I bellowed as I entered the kitchen.
She followed, “Are you always so rude?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied, “Now get out of those ridiculous robes.”
She demurred.
“Out I say,” I repeated and I simply lofted the whole monstrous shapeless tent over her head leaving her shocked but near naked.
Her breasts hung nicely, her belly was flat, her mound nestled beneath the softest covering of down, her hips were sturdy, her thighs shapely and most of all her teats were roused.
She looked me in the eye, “Are you happy now? Am I humiliated sufficiently or should I lick the floor clean with my tongue?”
“I don’t want to humiliate you,” I explained, “I just want to let my seed fly within you, you are very comely, almost beautiful. Sate my needs, take away the cares of the day with your sweet kisses and soft womb.”
“Not here, is there a bedroom?” she replied to my surprise. I expected protests.
“Why yes, of course., upstairs.” I led the way up the stairs to my room, I opened the door. “What do you think?”
She had to be impressed, my four poster bed, the window with panoramic views over my park.
She walked to the window and stared.
I bolted the door, threw aside my jacket, slipped off my shirt and dropped my breeches. I even took off my socks.
I walked across and stood behind her. I cupped her breasts. I kissed her shoulder. She shuddered. “Its beautiful.” she said softly.
“Bend forward, take your weight on the window sill,” I whispered. “I wish to mount you.”
“Like a horse?” she asked sarcastically.
“Yes like a whore,” I answered. “A very desirable whore.”
“But pure not raddled with disease like the street whores,” she said, “I heard such stories of depravity.”
My member nuzzled her womb lips and eased gently inside. “Oooh!” she giggled, “Such depravity as.”
“You believe I could never imagine?” I enquired. “May I assure you that I have a very fertile imagination.”
“They said it pained them,” she said dreamily, “But.”
“Do you like that,” I asked.
“Yes,” she said awkwardly, “You did mean it when you said we were wed in common law?”
“I lied, we shall go to hell for this,” I admitted.
“Then unleash your passion, make it worth the sacrifice!” she insisted, “For I own I am in heaven already.”
I gently squeezed her teats between finger and thumb and nuzzled her neck..
“Unleash your passion for I am ready for,” she uttered.
“Hush my angel, some moments more, enjoy our communion,” I uttered but it was too late. The sap had risen and shot forth like a bolt to sate her fires.
I held her even as my member shrank. I saw her face reflected in the window glass, all dishevelled, glowing with beads of perspiration and smiling.
“Oh my lord, those women said they passed through agonies and yet,” she uttered.
“They do indeed,” I replied, “But you are either a rampant whore or you have an attraction for me?”
“I do not understand?” she queried.
“Your parts moistened at my touch,” I explained, “Maybe it was an unconscious desire, a subliminal reaction to any man’s predations, or maybe it was my persona which gave rise to it.”
“I have had no other touch me, how can I know?” she asked earnestly.
“What say you that we work relentlessly through the whole gamut of those whores tales, every position and perversion they have regaled you with and some besides.”
“It would take weeks or months,” she explained.
“So?” I queried, “What is you hurry.”
“I am unwed, I shall surely be with child and,” she replied.
“So if you are a very good little whore and faithful I shall earnestly consider wedding you,” I promised.
“You will not regret it for a moment I promise,” she agreed, “How soon does your sap rise anew.”
“After supper, shall we meet mother first?” I asked.
“Oh,” she said and sounded almost disappointed, “But what shall I wear?”
Her robes were still downstairs. I found her one of my white shirts, she looked very comely in it. I thought of England to stop myself becoming aroused too soon and we went in search of mother.
To be continued if I get 80% plus
