Message-ID: <17706eli$9811302044@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: ~master~ Subject: submission by mesmer - Hypno-Religion - chapter 1 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <36629E2F.EF0ED9F2@coastnet.net.au> thank you Standard Disclaimer. This is a religious-hypnotic-mind-control story that should not be read if you are under the age of 18 years or if the type of story you imagine it to be will offend you. If you decide to read it anyway, please remember it is only fiction that is created for reading pleasure. Thank you - Mesmer. "HYPNO-RELIGION" (c) by Mesmer * Chapter 1 * In Palermo, Sicily, on the high mountain top, in a huge and old stone building which faced the ocean on three sides the fifty-year-old Mon-Senior watched as the bus pulled in and stopped before the main entrance to the convent. Several senior nuns in their habits walked quickly out to meet the new arrivals, girls from everywhere who had taken the gratifying step of dedicating their lives to the service of god. Twenty-seven in all. He watched the Mother Superior walk out as well, after the other nuns had lined all the girls up beside the bus. She stood surveying them with an experienced eye while the bus rattled slowly away and back towards the town, some fifty miles away. The girls were made to form three rows. They were all dressed in normal clothes, he noted, but that would soon all change when the Mother Superior began to spell out quite clearly for them the girl's new code of dress, of conduct, of sleeping and prayer sessions, and basically of everything else that was to become their daily life and practice at the convent. The Mon-Senior knew that there would be some girls who would not make it, who were simply not dedicated or committed enough in their now-chosen vocation to become Brides of Christ, but still, there always were a few, he recalled. He watched the girls being led off inside the huge old building and their first of the many lectures they would have during their daily lives. He smiled, then turned and walked to his desk. The Mother Superior would be joining him soon with her initial observations of the new group. He sat and picked up the list with their names on it and began to study it closely, looking for any familiar names. * * Mother Superior let her gaze wander over the faces of the new group as they settled noisily into their chairs in the main lecture theatre. Skins of darker and lighter shades, bodies of small and large stature, hair of varying shades, clothes of varying colours, and all about to change, for good. This was to be their first lecture before being taken to their dormitories to settle in and reflect upon the words she was about to say. As always, there was much whispered and hushed talking between the girls, along with the faces of those who were still not quite sure of their, or their parent's decision in their coming to the convent for training as a Brides of Christ. Mother Superior took a deep breath and sighed. Here we go again, she thought tiredly, knowing all the troubles that would soon be coming her way, that only she would be able to diffuse in a manner that would be satisfactory to all concerned, albeit, mainly the church. "Girls." She said softly but firmly into the microphone on the dias. "Settle down now and ready for your first lecture." Mother Superior heard the hush before she saw them all cease what they were doing and look expectantly up at her. So young, she thought, as she prepared her standard speech of welcome in the back of her mind. She knew it off by heart after fifteen years. All the girls were aged between fifteen and nineteen. She wondered how many of them still remained untouched by the hand of man. In this so-called modern year of 1943, the retaining of virginal purity seemed to be a dying cause, she concluded. "I would like to welcome you all into the loving arms of Christ and the church. Here, at this precise moment today, you are forgiven of all past sins and are reborn anew and fresh, untainted in the eyes of the church and of Christ." Mother Superior began. "I am your Mother Superior, who, with your designated nuns, will teach you in your daily lives, and will be ultimately responsible for your spiritual training to fulfil your chosen roles in your church as a Bride of Christ." Mother Superior saw most of the girls turn and look at each other and smile, then look quickly back at her, eyes wide in anticipation and expectation. "As of this moment." Mother Superior continued, her face becoming stern now. "Your minds and your bodies belong to Christ, and our church you have chosen. You will have no contact with the world beyond these convent walls, your new home; not with your parents, or families, or friends; not by letter or telephone, or in any way. There will be no talking or signalling in any way between yourselves. You are an island unto yourself." "Your dedication to your own goals and the cause of your choosing to be here must require you to isolate your thoughts for the good of your soul. You will learn many things in the coming days and weeks, but first of all you must learn self-discipline. We are here to teach you that aspect of your personalities, since you will all most readily agree that there is not much self-discipline in the world from whence you have just departed," Mother Superior watched them all closely, noting those who nodded their heads in agreement with what she had said, and those who did not. "From this moment onwards you will all take a vow of silence, to be broken only by being permission from myself, the Mon-Senior, or your designated nun. Apart from that, your vow of silence is your own first sacrifice to your chosen goal, for, if you cannot give up the sound of voice in your own ears as a meagre token for your love for Christ, you will most certainly fail in the more advanced training classes to come. In absolute shame then will you be put back on the bus that brought you here and returned as a failure in your life, sent back quickly and in disgust to your parents in disgrace, never to be accepted or even considered for acceptance into Christ's loving arms, or the church again, for the remainder of your life." Mother Superior's gaze took in the now uncertain expressions on most of the girl's faces, and continued. "I hope I am making myself absolutely clear. You will not speak to each other from this moment onwards, no matter what the reason, or where the location; not your dormitories, not your beds, not your bathing or toiletries. You will not write messages of communication either. All communication material in the form of paper and pencils will be collected from you when you are taken to your beds after this lecture. You will speak with your heart and the expressions of communication on your faces when, and only when you feel there is an urgent need, and your teachers will know your wishes and wants. Save for those rare occasions you will have to contact with your sister beside you in any way, other than to be aware of her presence in comfort. If you do so you can now know that you will h ave tainted the efforts of your sister bride and Christ will frown upon you. As well you will be punished severely for affecting your sister's chosen sacrifice, and will be scorned by all your sisters in general." The faces of the girls became even more uncertain as Mother Superior continued to note the special ones and then went on with her welcoming speech. "To speak to each other you will find there is absolutely no reason that will be acceptable. You are here to listen and to learn, not to speak. The days of hearing the sound of your own voice will soon become a distant memory, and begins now, at this very moment." Mother Superior was taking it slow and easy, allowing time for repetitive understanding and comprehension to take place within the girl's minds and awareness. "If such an event happens, the person responsible will have admitted her failure in my eyes, the eyes of the Mon-Senior, the eyes of her parents, the eyes of her sisters here, which you are all of one family now, and, in the eyes of Christ himself will you be looked upon as a total and complete failure, before you have even begun." Her fear of god speech. Mother Superior smiled inwardly, knowing her words were terrifying the living daylights out of most of them. And she had not finished yet. "You will be severely punished for your failure and your sin, and you will bear your punishment in shameful silence, no matter what form the Mon-Senior or I may choose for you, rather than to increase your punishment by voicing or displaying your lack of acceptance and the correct attitude of it." Almost finished. Mother Superior became aware of the grumblings of her stomach. It was almost time to meet the Mon-Senior for morning tea while they discussed the newcomer. "You will then be returned to the world of sin and depravity you have only just left. Please adopt the appropriate personal attitude and prove to yourself, your church, and to Christ himself, that you are worthy of the honour of being one of the chosen ones. Is everything clear so far?" All upturned heads nodded in unison. Mother Superior smiled. Let the games begin, she echoed in her own mind. "In the training to come your faith will be tested many times, and in many ways. It is not for you to question in what manner this training may befall you, for Christ's demands of those who have chosen to love him unconditionally will not be repudiated or questioned in any way. Only a slight pause for effect, then continuing, Mother Superior began to wind up. "Belief without question, and faith without doubt are your penance prayer words at every test, and at every moment of your waking day, whether you believe it to be a test of your faith, or not. For you will never know how the hand of god through his son and his church may attempt to train your spirit within your soul." Mother Superior noted that some of the girls had tears in their eyes. She smiled at them and saw some of their faces lose a little of their uncertainty as she did so. Then she lost the smile as quickly as it had come, dismissing the girls to their designated nuns, who then led them out of the theatre and on to their dormitories. That done she headed off to meet the Mon-Senior for morning tea. * * * All twenty-seven of the girls were scared and a little terrified; terrified of failing, terrified that they or their parents had made one huge mistake in sending them there, and terrified that they would surely manage to break their vow of silence and be severely punished in some way. The very thought of not speaking or of not hearing the sound of their own voice was unimaginable to them. They had been talking all of their lives and doubted very much that they would succeed, even though each and every one of them had personally chosen to become a Bride of Christ. The girls were all led back to a huge dormitory room with single beds down along each side of the old stone walls. There were no windows and only one door at each end. One nun-teacher had been assigned to every four girls which made seven groups altogether - six of four girls, and one group of three. Each nun took their charges down the centre isle between the two long rows of wartime bunks and allocated them each their beds, and the black and white habit of the church. The girls were then given their linen, two sheets, one blanket, one pillow and slip tp go with it, and one long, cotton nightgown. Soon the looks of queries began to s how on the girl's faces as they began to unpack and make their beds with each of their nun-teacher's looking on. One by one they turned to face the nuns who waited expectantly, knowingly. Then, each of the nuns grouped them back together in a small circle and spoke quietly to their charges. "To answer your unasked question." Each nun said to her group. "You have noticed, if you haven't already, that you h ave been given no undergarments. Yours is not to question why, except to be told that your bodies are not yet clean enough to wear the closeness of the Lord against your flesh. Question not. Just accept and be happy you have been chosen. Make your beds now, and quickly. We have much yet to do before your first day is done." The girls all turned in one and quickly made their beds. As the girls were finishing their allotted task, each teacher-nun walked up to and whispered into each of her charge's ear, then stepped back and waited, arms outstretched in front of her. The girls looked around at each other, then did as they were asked. One by one they each removed their tops and bottoms of various designs and handed them to their nun. Some wore brassieres, some did not. Then, with gentle encouragement from their nun they slowly and embarrassingly removed their undergarments and handed them too, to their nun, to stand naked before their superior with hands crossed over breasts and thighs, eyes cast downwards, looking only at the floor. "You will all come to this end." The nun at the far end of the isle spoke loudly. "Through this door and around the corner you will find the showers. Bathe and wash yourselves quickly, and in absolute silence, dry yourselves, and then return here as you are about to leave. Go now!" The girls look up in unison towards the sound of the voice, then slowly moved forward, following the naked buttocks of the girl in front, although trying to be seen as looking. "Quickly!" spoke the nun, even more firmly. The girls moved forward against the bare buttocks in front of them until all moved from the room and were gone. Twenty minutes later they were all back, wet-haired, hands arms still covering their nudity, but walking very quickly, eyes downcast as they came to their bed and stood beside it. Most of them were flushed pink from the embarrassment of being in such close proximity to such a mass of moving, naked female bodies. The girls generally came form stout catholic families, and as such, never saw anyone but themselves without clothes on. Other members of their own families, including the same sex, just simply did not present themselves ever without being well and truly covered by clothing of some sort over most of their bodies. "Put on your habits! Your teachers will show you how." The same nun spoke to them again. One by one each nun called their charges forward to the end of their bed, instructing them on the donning of their habit, which was really only a matter of pulling it down over their head and allowing it to fall under its own weight. Some habits came down to the floor, some to the girl's ankles. Those that were of ill-fit were noted. As each girl stretched her arms high upwards into the air to lower the habit over their head, their respective nun's eyes could not help but gaze upon the full young breasts and lush thatches of velvet matting of all shades and thickness between each of the girl's thighs. Soon they were all clothed from head to toe in the robes of the church, some smiling, most serious. Then their headwear was shown how to be fitted and worn, leaving only the round of their cheeks and faces open to another's gaze. "You will all now be taken to mass." The nun who had spoken earlier now said. "One by one you will be sent to an interview with the Mon-Senior and Mother Superior who will assess your level of commitment to your chosen vocation. Conduct yourselves appropriately in accordance with your wishes to remain here and be trained and nurtured along the way to becoming a Bride of Christ. The girls were then led from the dormitory, each worrying frantically how they were going to pass their first test. Some were stressed, others were calm and collected, while yet others genuinely felt chosen already and were smiling as they walked quickly along behind their chosen nun. * * * * * The Mon-Senior and Mother Superior sat silently drinking their morning tea, each involved in their own thoughts. It was always exciting when a new group arrived, although known only to each other as the teaching nuns had never been allowed to sit in on any of the girl's initial assessments. They each finished their tea at the same time and replaced their fine china cups back into their saucers, their eyes serious as they met in gaze across the Mon-Senior's huge black desk top. "Have you had any recent reports from the last group of sisters sent to the town churches?" Mon-Senior asked quietly. After twelve months of training as a Bride of Christ, and the appointment of Sister as their designator, the sisters were all then sent out to the various villages all over Sicily, even into Italy itself. And every twelve months would a new batch arrive, just as it had now. Most of the girls made it through the tough twelve months, although with some, it was hard going at times. While occasionally one or two did not make it at all, and was sent home to her parents in disgrace, sworn to a lifetime of silence, or be assured of a place in hell forever and a day. To date, the Mon-Senior had only ever received good reports from the priests about the sister or sisters who were sent to them, while some reports were truly outstanding in praise of their charge or charges. Mother Superior met the gaze of her superior and smiled. She was a middle-aged lady in her mid forties, tall and lean, not ever having allowed the slow-paced life of the church to cause her to lose her feminine shape. "No, Mon-Senior." She smiled at him, wondering at the same time if he could read her thoughts. "Nothing but the glowing reports you have already read." The Mon-Senior smiled a satisfied smile, believing in what he was doing, and feeling assured of a place in the heavenly father's kingdom when his time came to leave this earthly sojourn. The training college had been his own idea, although the convent had always existed as such, but mainly as a church. It had been he, alone, who had been made aware of the sanction, in not so many words, which had been filtered through the conversation on one of the visits of the Arch Bishop of the Daises, almost ten years ago now. The Church had been disgraced by so many of its priests, both of junior and very senior ranks, who involved the church in scandal by involving themselves with young boys of their congregation. In a radical and very secretive move the upper echelon had made the decision to keep their priests satisfied in the only way god had truly intended them to be - with women. The Mon-Senior reflected for a moment on his present convent's humble beginnings in the new regime within the church. For the nuns and sisters, to be married to the church now meant to be married to whatever priest or priest they had been assigned to, although in concept only. Their training at the convent assured they would be of sufficient experience and attitude to keep the priest's roving eyes away from the rear ends of young altar boys, and so the church could and did regain its solid reputation. Such training was it for the girls at the convent that each sister saw herself, when finished, as the only thing standing between the church and its continued success, or complete destruction. It was only through her continued efforts, unconditionally given to her Lord, her Christ, as she had been taught to believe, through being and remaining committed in act and thought and deed as a Bride of Christ, that she could prove her undying love for god and the church, and as such her bride-ship in being allocated to being the bride of the priest she had been sent to, she became a permanent Bride of Christ, while he became her Christ, her Lord and saviour. For without him, and his acceptance of her she would not and could not prove her worth in Christ's holy gaze. It had taken some time to remove all of the staff that were present at the time, including the Mother Superior of the day, which had left only him, and his interpretation of the Arch Bishop's hidden message. No words had ever been said to him in direct intent, nor would they ever be. That had been made clear in unspoken messages between unspoken messages. Yet he believed he had interpreted correctly and had trained each sister accordingly ever since. The Mother Superior who sat opposite him had been a woman from that very first batch of girls, who had been destined to keep the priests of the church on the straight and narrow for the first time in the history of any church. She, for one, had done just that, as far as he personally was concerned, and had kept his bed warm ever since. The Mon-Senior saw himself as a pioneer and as such, a very valuable member of the church indeed, and now, the Mother Superior saw herself in exactly the same light, and in exactly the same way. "The first one will be here any minute." Mother Superior said to her lover seated across the desk from her. It excited her to think of him as her lover, although for the most part she thought of him as her husband, her Lord, her Christ. "Her name is?" The Mon-Senior asked questioningly. The Mother Superior glanced down at the clipboard in her lap. "Anastasia Barteloni." Mother Superior answered. "From Palermo itself." The Mon-Senior smiled. The Palermo had it born into them, he felt, never having had any trouble ever with any of the girls who came from there. Before selection and acceptance into the convent each girl would be subjected to several interviews, some with their parents present, and some by themselves. By the time final acceptance took place the Mon-Senior knew fairly well who were going to trouble and who were not. Those he believed were not suitable he did not accept into the convent, leaving the girl and her parents ashamed for something they could never know about. It was the Mon-Senior himself who travelled the countryside recruiting, along with two of the teacher-nuns to assist him, and to keep him company at nights, while the Mother Superior remained at the convent to run the place in h is absence and to prepare for the next intake. The Mother Superior, he knew, was not happy whenever he had to go away on recruitment, but he knew also she would never say a word ort show her displeasure towards him in any way, for to do so would be to declare openly her reasons for being and remaining a Bride of Christ were selfish, and towards herself, and not selfless, and towards god and the church. Besides, he liked variety, and had plenty of it with the girl's training. The teacher- nuns were all of the same vows, having been trained there as well, and would never indicate to anyone in any manner any inappropriateness. The Mon-Senior did not believe he had the responsibility for producing and maintaining the world's largest brothel, but, he then smiled, it was as good as. * * * * * * There came a soft, yet firm rap on the large wooden doors to the Mon-Senior's office. Mother Superior rose immediately, walked to it and opened it only three feet. One of the teacher-nuns stood there with Apaloma in tow. The gaze of Mother Superior and the teach-nun, Sister Apaloma, met and locked briefly, then broke as Sister Anastasia turned and glanced at Apaloma. Mother Superior nodded. Sister Anastasia bowed her head slightly in return of the signal to leave and did just that, turning on her heels and walking quickly away, hearing the large door close behind her. She wondered. She always wondered. But then, it didn't really matter. Her turn would soon come around again, with the girls, and with him, the Mon-Senior, just like it always did. Let her guess and wonder if she shared the Mon-Senior with her. Let her guess. And then Sister Anastasia smiled and hurried on towards the mass temple area to get the next one ready. Usually about a half an hour was all they ever took with each girl in their interviews. The Mon-Senior remained seated as Mother Superior brought the tall girl up to stand before him. He remembered her immediately from the interviews as he did most of them, no matter how any there were. She was tall. He remembered that. Apaloma stood head bowed and hands clasped before her. Mother Superior took her place in the chair beside her. Nothing had been said to this stage. "You are Apaloma of Palermo? You may talk freely when spoken to." The Mon- Senior said quietly, noticing the trembling hands of the tall girl with long, jet-black hair hanging down to the middle of her back. He wondered if she had as much downy black growth between her legs and felt himself stir as his sphincter muscle contracted strongly. Sicilian girls were famous to him for the abundance of lush, thick growth over their private parts. "Yes, Mon-Senior." Apaloma whispered quietly in reply. She was scared to death. Her knees were shaking beneath her habit and she felt giddy, as if she were going to faint at any moment. Her strong young heart hammered in her chest as she fought to control her breathing. "And you are committed to your vows to become a chosen Bride of Christ?" He asked. "Yes, Mon-Senior." Apaloma breathed softly. "Are you a virgin, child?" asked Mother-Superior, feeling her own energies pooling and centring in her lower belly with the thought and image behind the question. Apaloma felt herself blush from head to toe from shame and embarrassment. How could she tell them? She struggled with herself and her dreams to become a Bride of Christ. She had not known a man, that was true. But her private areas had known the gentle touch of her own slender hands and fingers on many occasions when she bathed. Sweat in fine globules glistened as it lined her forehead and trickled down her long back to settled and d rain between her naked buttocks beneath her habit. She had to, she finally decided. It was her only chance. "No, Mon-Senior." Apaloma whispered almost inaudibly. "I...err....I believe I am, Mon-Senior, but...but I eeerr...I have touched myself." Apaloma was as ashamed as she would ever feel in her life, before and beyond that point in time. Her body heated and sweated with embarrassment as she waited to be asked to leave the convent. "Have you known self-pleasure to your body's completion?" The Mon-Senior then asked her. Apaloma was dying of shame in front of them and in front of god himself. She didn't think they would ask that - not that. Her knees trembled and shook beneath her habit, while the sweat of her distress began to run freely down her face and cheeks. She felt the cool trickle of sweat escape from between her naked buttocks and begin to cascade down her inner right thigh. Apaloma hoped it wouldn't pool on the floor, for she stood before the two most powerful people in her world in nothing but bare feet, standing on a polished wooden floor. Apaloma blushed and flushed again from head to toe, feeling the heat rising constantly from below beneath the habit and build beneath her head and neckwear like a volcano waiting to explode. Would they tell her parents of her shameful secret? She wondered, terrified, after they expelled her, and before she had even begun? "Yes, Mon...Mon-Senior." She hesitantly and ashamedly admitted to them. "Prove you faith in yourself and your vows, Apaloma." The Mon-Senior said to her. "Your vow of silence is restored. Show us of your faith and ability to centre on your faith and cause, and accept that which your Christ has to teach you in your mind and heart and body, in the name of your Christ and your Lord." "Remove your habit, Apaloma." The Mother Superior said to the instantly stunned and speechless girl. Apaloma, hands trembling uncontrollably now, began immediately removing her headwear, dropping it gently to the floor while her senses reeled. She didn't understand. It must be a test, she concluded, as shaking like a leaf in every limb of her body she reached down and drew the long black habit all the way up and over her head, to drop it also on the floor beside her headwear. The rush of cool air on and about her heated skin was a welcome feeling to her in her distress, but she blushed again with the thought that she was standing before the Mon-Senior of the convent, completely naked. Apaloma had forgotten completely the fact that the Mon-Senior was also a man. Her thighs and knees trembled and shook. She held her eyes downcast, fearing to look anywhere but at the spot she had focussed on in the polished wood board of the floor. Each breath shook in her lungs before leaving her mouth, and then shook again as it escaped into the heavy silence of the Mon-Senior's office. Apaloma's mind was reeling. She was frantic and didn't know what to think, so she thought of nothing at all. "Your vow of silence is restored to you, Apaloma." She heard the Mother Superior repeated to her. Apaloma nodded gently, indicating that she understood clearly she was to say nothing. It was then she believed in her fevered mind that it was a test, one of the many that Mother Superior had told them about earlier in the day. Apaloma then calmed somewhat. Her breathing evened and she felt a little better. Not much, but a little. She would pass this, the first test, she determined to herself. She would pass. She must pass. She must! The Mon-Senior had grown hard in his groin as he watched the naked girl tremble and shake before them. It was a power sense. He knew that, and he loved it. He believed also that the Mother Superior felt it in the same way. Apaloma's young Sicilian breasts were full and firn, jutting upright at her nipples from beneath the soft, white underbelly of each firm breast. Her long slender upper torso rounded and curved beautifully at her hips, then flowed gracefully down over each thigh to her knees. Her stomach was flat and hard, even when trembling, as were all of the hard-working girls of Palermo, and the jungle of black, curly pubic hair held a myriad of mysteries that would be his to sample in the fullness of time. "Stand with your hands on your hips, your feet apart, and bend well over, Apaloma." Mother Superior said to her firmly. Her own heart was thumping in her chest as it always did in anticipation of what was to happen next. She could feel her own warmth becoming wetter and wetter as she sat on the chair beside the naked girl who stood easily within arm's reach of her long, slender fingers. Apaloma did as she was told immediately, her mind slowly becoming more and more numb. She placed her sweaty hands on her naked hips, which were just as sweaty. Then she widened her stance and bent well forward, exposing her buttocks openly, almost right beside the Mother Superior. Apaloma once again felt the intense heat of her own shame and embarrassment at being seen this way by these two pillars of the church. Yet nothing on the face of the earth, or could ever come into her wildest imagination could have ever prepared Apaloma for what happened next. Mother Superior's heart and pulse raced as she extended her hand out towards the black hairy crease between Apaloma's open buttocks and thighs. Gently she rested her hand on the firm cheek of the girls left buttock for a few seconds. Apaloma jerked, but then remained still. Then slowly, but continuously, Mother Superior began to reach into the centre of all that lush, thick, black pubic hair itself, feeling instantly the heat from between the girls legs and the soft wetness contained therein. The girl gasped, closing her thighs tightly on the tips of Mother Superior's fingers, but it mattered not. Mother Superior then proceeded to give the girl's vagina a thorough examination, checking and feeling to see if her hymen was, in fact, still there and in tact. Apaloma felt her face getting redder by the second. The incredibly sensual feeling of another's hands and fingers on and inside her body was proving too much for her to bear. She felt giddy, fearing she was about to faint at any second. That aside, Apaloma felt increasingly ashamed of the feelings being stirred in her lower belly by the Mother Superior's gentle fingers exploring her most intimately from the inside. Her breathing immediately became ragged and harsh. And when one of those long fingers slipped deeper between her legs and grasped her secret spot she could not prevent the slight moan of pleasure escaping her mouth, to her undying shame. "Ooohh!!" Apaloma moaned softly again against her conscious wishes to do so as the Mother Superior's finger and thumb began to slide back and forth, up and down, moving the soft hood which covered the jewel of her womanhood. The Mother Superior's other fingers remained inside, deeply buried, and sliding slowly in and out of her throbbing centre. Apaloma could feel her own wetness begin to trickle down her inner thigh and was again shamed into a ferocious heat in her face and neck as she felt her lower belly and loins begin to contract of their own volition. Ashamedly Apaloma felt her buttocks gently begin to move against the gentle, deep penetrating invasion by the Mother Superior's fingers. Her breathing deepened to a gasp in time with each now-pleasurable penetration. Her face and body was on fire. Her breasts felt swollen and grotesque in their fullness while her nipples elongated in their pleasure and burned like a fire at the tip of each breast. The Mon-Senior watched the Mother Superior handling the girl expertly, knowing what was soon to come to pass. His own hardness had felt the strong pressure of his own grip the moment her fingers had entered the girl's centre. In fact, he had to ease of his own pressure lest he used the sting he wished to build upon for the remainder of the day, having it risen to an explosive point by the time he entered the Mother Superior's warm centre that evening. The girl was responding involuntarily now, more and ore with each passing second, gently moving herself, her hips and buttocks back and forth against the Mother Superior's fingers. The Mon-Senior could hear the girls fevered breathing as her end rapidly approached her. Then suddenly, he saw the Mother Superior's forearm flex slightly, and knew she had firmed her grasp on the girl's pleasure core. "OOOHH! Oh NO! Oh No!! Nnnnnnoooooonnnnng!" Apaloma cried as her body shook and trembled from head to toe. Her hands fell from her hips and gripped her knees and squeezed. She could feel each wave of pleasure rip through her lower body and breasts as the Mother Superior continued to time each pressure squeeze of her throbbing core with each wave as it bathed and torched her from her toes to her crown. She felt her knees weakening and feared she was definitely going to faint dead away in front of them both. Her senses swooned to the touch on and inside her body as wave after wave of fiery pleasure wracked her mind and flesh, leaving it finally trembling and shaking, with her breath coming in short, sharp pants like a well-raced horse. She calmed slowly, well aware of the mother Superior's fingers still in and on her body, shuddering and moaning softly from time to time in the aftermath of the most pleasurable and violent sensations she had ever experienced. Apaloma knew in her heart that she had failed her first test. Her shame knew no depths as she remained bent over, gripping her knees while the Mother Superior's hand slowly left her private body. "Stand up, Apaloma." The Mon-Senior told her firmly. Apaloma did as she was told, already fearing the worst. "Don your habit now." Mother Superior said to the still-panting and breathless girl. Mother Superior watched, breathless herself as Apaloma set about getting dressed again into her habit. She was very well aware of the wetness between her own thighs and the readiness of her own body for giving and receiving. She really didn't know h ow she was going to stand the gathering of energies all day long without needing to share those energies with the Mon-Senior or with god himself. Slowly she brought her slickened fingers up to her lips and tasted the girl's arousal. It w as salty and it was fresh and heady of aroma, musky and strong to the nostrils, stirring her own jewel yet again and contracting her thighs tightly together. The Mon-Senior had watched the Mother Superior do what she always did after this first exercise. She tasted them. It was such an erotic sight for him to see that he could not help gripping himself extra hard as he watched her eyes close as her lips covered the first two-thirds of those glistening fingers. He breathed every deeply in an effort to control his building energies, desperately trying to save them for that evening. Then he watched her open her eyes and glance at him, smiling as she lowered her hand to her lap. His groin flexed and contracted again. He was sure she did that only to tease him. To let him know what was to come at the end of their working day. Apaloma was a mess, mentally and physically. Her mind was no longer racing, but was simply numb. She thought of nothing except how she was going to face her parents after being sent home in shame for what she had just done, failing her first test. She hadn't even been able to control her own pleasure, and in front of the pillars of her church had she failed, to make everything worse even still. The tears of her shame began to fall freely and in silence down her cheeks, cascading like two shimmering waterfalls against her suntanned brown skin. "Your love for your Lord is very strong, Apaloma." The Mon-Senior said quietly, evenly. "And it will become stronger if you continue to develop your faith in your chosen vocation as a Bride of Christ. You did your best at this time, and this we know and appreciate. We will work with you and help you strengthen that which already lies almost dormant with you so you will be accepted by your Lord, your Christ, in whatever form of man he desires to take. For that which you could not control today is indeed the very virtue that the Brides of Christ must have in order to offer him their undying love for their sins. Do you accept still the vocation of your choosing?" Apaloma couldn't believe her ears. They understood. She was only a young girl, not fully in control of her body or her emotions. They understood and were not going to send her home. The tears of relief flooded through her and ran freely down her cheeks now with little sobs from her mouth helping them to flow on their natural way. She nodded her head, yet never took her eyes from the polished wooden floor for a single moment. She had focussed that same spot from the moment she had bent forward with her hands on her hips, and on that spot she had remained focussed to that very second. Sheer gratitude for their understanding flooded like water through every pore in Apaloma's being. "Come, Apaloma, and remember your vow of silence. You will be taken back to mass now to reflect upon the grace and humility of your Lord to become the same way, and to become stronger through your training in the future to be fully, who you really are." Mother Superior said as she rose and led the sobbing, grateful girl to the door. She then positioned her outside to wait for the arrival of the next girl brought by Sister Anastasia, and closed the door, walking back to her chair, very aware of her own wetness and racing pulse. She hoped, as she neared her chair that he wouldn't and did not look at the Mon-Senior. But he did. "Come here." She heard the Mon-Senior say to her, feeling her heart beat faster with the first vowel from his lips. She wanted to, yet she did not, for it was hard enough to make it through this first day of a new group without what was going to come. She veered in her direction to walk around to where he sat looking up at her. Her gaze took in his as she looked own at him, her own deepening in anticipation. She knew what to do next. Reaching down, the Mother Superior lifted her habit high above her breasts and closed her eyes. Then she felt his hand and fingers lightly brushing over her thick bush of Sicilian growth. She shuddered from shoulders to knee and sighed audibly as his fingers deepened their probing. If only this time he wouldn't take her there. But he did. The Mon-Senior, keeping two fingers sliding slowly ever deeper in and out of the Mother Superiors slick, warm centre, firmly grasped her pleasure core in exactly the same way and manner she had previously grasped Apaloma's. "Oh god!" she heard herself breath and gasp at the same time. She was not going to make it. Why did he have to make it so hard on her? Then he began to pressure her faster and faster. She felt herself begin to sink down onto each invading thrust as it gently searched her depths, each time feeling a different part of her inner volcano, pressuring her there on her core in time with his penetrations. Then he suddenly stopped as a gentle knock came to the door. She opened her eyes and looked down at him, panting already in her forced arousal. His eyes were deep and strong. She smiled at being saved from a fate she would rather wait for to arrive that evening when she could enjoy it fully. The Mon-Senior grinned devilishly at her untimely rescue and released her flesh back to herself. She lowered her habit and walked quickly to the door. He readjusted himself beneath his smock and waited to greet the next girl. Inwardly and physically he flexed his body and his groin, knowing that this was going to be a long day, but a good one, knowing by the time they would finish with the girls for the day he would have Mother Superior panting like a rabid dog, just as he always did. The Mon-Senior then smiled the smile of a winner. Only twenty-six more girls to go. As she reached own to turn the handle on the large door Mother Superior allowed her sheerly physical smile to fade quickly, lest it be seen by Sister Anastasia and the next girl. IN spite of her inner protests she secretly looked forward to his touch between girls during this stage of their training. She knew full well that by the time he was ready to join with her that evening she would have received her rapturous pleasure many times over. Yet she knew she would always have more in reserve for him to see and to feel. Her hand tightened on the doorknob as she took a deep breath to control her breathing. The Mother Superior sighed as she turned the handle. Only twenty-six girls to go. * * * * * * * The End of Chapter 1 To be continued. Thank you for reading. 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