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Father Ben paced nervously in his quarters late on a Thursday evening, a glass of brandy beside his favorite chair, and a half smoked cigar emitting a last futile plumelet of smoke in his ashtray. He was in his pajamas, bathrobe, and slippers; his mind lost in thought. Sister Holly sat nearby in a plain white dressing gown, her bare legs crossed and her toes twitching, sipping from a snifter. “I told you, Ben. Mother General Stacy has overrated her knowledge of feminist theology for decades now. Even though she got a doctorate in Rome, her grasp of this topic still revolves around of a VW van parked at Woodstock.”
He nodded. “I know now, that’s sure as shit. The other guys are pissed as hell, and unless I find something to make them happy, my credibility as an Abbot is in the toilet.” He stopped relight his stogie before taking another shot of liquor. “They’ve hardly spoken to her between the sessions, and today they hardly spoke to me.” He resumed pacing again, sending upgrade to gray clouds.
Holly uncrossed and recrossed her legs and took another sip. “You need a stroke of inspiration, and you need it quickly. If this were my penance day, I know what would take your mind off this. But we must keep things in order in our relationship.”
“Is there anything we can say to Stacy that will improve things tomorrow?”
“There might be something she can do tonight,” Holly said with a distant look in her eye. “At times when Stacy and I have been drinking she remembered her party animal days quite fondly. She once believed in ‘Free Love’ with a passion, and told me it was a miracle she didn’t catch VD or get pregnant before she came to the convent.”
“If she could do something nice for the guys tonight, then tomorrow would be a different story. What would you have in mind?”
Holly stood up and walked over next to Ben. “There was that one night,” she whispered, “when there was a particularly wild party, and she took on seven guys in a row. Her younger sister was there and told me about it one time when she visited us. How long has it been since you visited her at her Motherhouse?”
“Five months at least. My calendar’s been pretty full and she’s been bugging me to pay her a visit. Are you proposing we re-create the 60s?”
“Let’s see, what time it is?” Looking up at an antique clock on the wall, she noticed the time was 9:30. “A little late for monastic types, but I imagine Stacy is watching something on television.”
Ben blew a smoke ring. “Would you mind sauntering down to her quarters to see how interested she would be in reliving her youth?” She winked at him, put down her glass, and slipped out the door without a sound.
It was 10 minutes before Holly returned, and Ben had finished his cigar, taking the last gulp of his brandy as she entered. She sat next to him and said, “Stacy is a little incredulous the boys aren’t fascinated by her lectures, however the idea of some late-night recreation appeals to her. Of course, the situation would be that she would have no say in the matter, and be totally under the control of someone else.”
“Ah yes, that means anything that happens won’t be her fault. I think there’s something in the storeroom that may be of help.”
“What about your fellow Abbots? How will they justify all this?”
“How do guys generally justify things like this?” he replied, arching his eyebrow. Holly smiled and nodded. “In our storeroom is a set of stocks. I don’t know exactly how they got there, the history of this place goes back a long way, and there was an early Abbott that had some strange ideas of how the Chapter of Faults should be held. Brother Iggy restored it and made it look pretty good 40 years ago; what he had in mind is best not discussed. I think you and I could set it up in the chapter room.”
Holly rolled her eyes and started tapping her barefoot on the carpeted bornova escort floor. “So there is some truth to the rumors of monastic decadence? This is too good to be true. We’ll get Stacy to help us, this sounds like her kind of crazy shit.”
They went down the hallway to the guest quarters, and Holly knocked on Stacy’s door. It opened almost instantly: Mother General Stacy was a tall woman in her early 70s, built like a linebacker with short grizzled hair, huge bushy eyebrows, high cheekbones, flashing blue eyes, and wore nothing but a blue bathrobe that barely covered her crotch area and pink fuzzy open toed slippers. A smile lit up her face when she saw Ben. “At last you’re going to take care of me, big boy. How many do you think you can line up for me?”
“I think everyone will be there except Johnny. His tastes run a different direction, as you know. Would you help us lug a piece of equipment from one of our storage areas?”
“Sounds kinky. I’m in. How you going to let them know what’s going on?”
Ben smiled. “I sent Marty a text and asked him to pass the word around. They’ll all be there.”
“It’s been such a long time since I’ve been gangbanged,” Stacy chuckled, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.
The Chapter Room of the monastery was an indoor cloister, with a seat running the circumference of the room. Several icons, portraits of Saints, and ancient candleholders filled the walls, and on one end was an elaborate bar: a recent modification. When Ben and Stacy lugged the stocks into the room a large area had been cleared of chairs. Seven Abbots stood in their habits, with long rosaries as belt cords, and the cowls pulled over their heads to conceal their faces with their bare legs and feet showing they wore nothing underneath. “You guys look like you’re part of the Spanish Inquisition,” Ben griped.
“No one expects the Spanish Inquisition,” a high reedy voice murmured. They quickly ducked through a door before Stacy could see them, and after a moment Holly entered the room with a few things in her hands. “It’s a good thing the boys left for the moment,” Stacy said, “it adds to the romance of the evening. I think if I’m going to put my head and hands into that thing I’ll need a table or something to support my tummy.”
Ben went to the corner to bring a bench over and they discovered it was the perfect height to keep her company while restrained. “I think you need to lose the robe, but you can keep the slippers. Don’t want your feet getting cold.”
“You’re just the personification of hospitality, aren’t you Ben?” Holly sneered. “I think I need to stick around to make sure things don’t get too far out of hand. After all, nuns always travel in pairs.”
Ben and Stacy gave Holly a strange look, then looked at each other and shrugged as Stacy’s robe slid to the floor. Ben helped her guide her head in hands into the restraints making sure the bench would support her. Her chest was huge enough that her pendulous breasts hung down on either side. Walking to the back Ben slapped one of her thighs, “you’ll need to hold your legs a little more apart for this. Most of these guys are beyond their manhandling time. Would you like a blindfold or a gag?”
Holly said, “A blindfold sounds like a good idea, don’t you think Stacy?” The older woman nodded her head as best she could. “But I don’t think a gag is a good idea. Don’t you want to give the guys some options?”
“Read my mind,” Stacy said to the floor, then licked her lips lasciviously. “As long as too many don’t want oral sex, we should be all right. Maybe you should get some butter if anybody needs some lubrication.”
He promptly tied a folded dishcloth over her head, testing to make sure she couldn’t see. The younger nun jumped to her feet and darted on tip toes down the room to the bar, looking through the drawers. bostancı escort She returned with a jar of light green liquid. “I found some olive oil. It doesn’t look like it’s extra-Virgin, but that would be rather irrelevant to tonight’s proceedings, wouldn’t it?”
Some snickers came from out of sight. Holly brought Ben the liquid and he put it on the floor beside her right foot. “Olly, Olly, oxen free,” he said, and his confères emerged. ” I think we need to make sure she’s ready to go, and make sure you guys are, too. I’ll get her started, and whoever is ready first can take first helping.”
Ben smacked her hard four times, alternating cheeks, before feeling her groin. His fingers started playing with the huge folds, and soon his questing fingers had buried themselves inside. Looking at the other Abbots, he saw they had pulled their skirts up about their waists, tying them up by their belt rosaries, and all were stroking themselves searching for rigidity. Pulling his hand out, he slapped lily white butt several times more, turning them red, and was able to get three fingers inside her ancient vagina afterward.
A wizened old man with a full bushy head of wild salt and pepper hair with a matching beard came up first, and got down underneath Stacy, laying on the floor. Making himself comfortable, he began stroking the sides of her breasts gently with his fingertips, occasionally stroking her nipples, which turned rock hard immediately. Ben and Holly watched with fascination. “I never knew Tom was a tit man,” Ben murmured, “never knew he had any interest in sex at all.”
“Shh,” Holly said, “I’m remembering the night we had in Venice when we were teenagers. I came just with you sucking my nipples.” Her face was turning a little red, and her breathing was increasing.
“Look, Johnny came after all.” A portly abbot was walking up behind, stroking his medium size cock, and reaching for the oil. “Wonder what he’s going to do?”
Holly punched Ben’s arm and he was quiet. Johnny spread her asscheeks and poured a huge dollop right into her rectum. Stacy groaned as he worked one finger, then a second, inside and poured more oil. When he was satisfied with the lubrication, he oiled his penis and put it at her dark entrance. A look back as his confères brought nods of approval, and he gently pushed it, seeking entrance. It took several tries, but eventually Stacy’s butthole accepted the intruder and Johnny slid his cock in and out in a leisurely pace. A rosy hue appeared on Stacy’s cheeks; she grimaced and blinked her eyes as she took it, before her breathing quickened and she reached an orgasm. Johnny kept up his pace relentlessly until he grimaced, shooting his seed into her bowels.
A huge monk slipped off his habit: another tall, portly man with a slightly larger cock than Johnny’s. His right hand was spinning his rosary in a circle while his left was pulling his pecker. Coming up behind Stacy, he started whipping her butt with it, making her shriek and squirm, laying several thin, bright red lines across her ass. Tom was still gently playing with the huge mounds below while the monk tried to push himself roughly up her ass, succeeding after the third try. “Damn, this is my night for getting buttfucked,” Stacy complained, “is the next guy gonna use a crowbar or a baseball bat?” The big abbot whipped her butt a few more times, the high pitched sizzle of the cord cutting through the air, bringing a series of yelps from the captive. As he got close to his orgasm, he reached down and put two fat fingers in Stacy’s cunt, working it hard and they reached their climaxes together.
Ben smiled. “See anything you like, Holly?” She hit him hard in the arm again.
The next abbot was holding a tall, white candle. He was even bigger than his predecessor, and poured a lot of oil buca escort on his pecker, making it glisten in the soft light before working into her abused backside. “Damn, I’ve never had three in a row up the ass before,” Stacy murmured. “Glad you weren’t the first. Ouch, what it that? You’re dripping candle wax on my butt? Shiiiiit!” Beneath the table, Tom had moved from stroking the skin with his fingers to rubbing his soft beard all over her breasts, pausing to suck on a nipple from time to time as he went by. He raised his foot up and sought her slit with his toes, wiggling them on her clitoris once he found it. The candle went back and forth, leaving white dots on the flesh, and it wasn’t long before the abbot shoot his load up her dark highway. As he did it, Tom got his big toe buried completely in her snatch and brought her to another orgasm.
The last abbot was gigantic, and Holly gasped as he came forward. “I hope he doesn’t stick it up her ass like the others did. May have to take her to the hospital.” The man gave her a strange look, and stuck his girth directly up Stacy’s slick love canal in one thrust, making her gasp in surprise.
Stacy gasped, “Shit, at last a cock up my cunt.” She started singing ‘Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life’ as he pistoned in and out, she tried to buck back against him, limited by her restrains. “Yes, you can nibble on my tits, Tom. I like it that way. Shit. Holy mother of God. Fuck me, you great bastard, give me all that big cock. It’s been too long.” Stacy came again twice before the big man was able to shoot his load, pulling it out to spray his seed on her wax covered butt. They panted for a few moments and the abbots all left, except Tom, who was still sucking Stacy’s nipples.
“We need to turn her loose,” Holly said. “Get her a water bottle.”
“I think the guys are happy,” Ben said, “but Tom needs a little reward for his work.”
“My pleasure,” Tom said, getting up off the floor. “I could play with those wonderful things all day, if she’d let me.”
Stacy took a huge pull from the bottle when she was released. “No problem, Tom, I’d let you. You need to come out and see me sometime. But I need to reward you. Lay down on the bench and let’s see what’s going on.”
“I don’t know…” Tom whined.
With one pull, she yanked his habit up over his head. Tom’s ribs showed, his skin extremely pale, and his package was small: his erection was only an inch and a half. “What a nice dessert!” Stacy beamed. “I never thought I’d ever say this, but I’m tired of big dicks.”
Pushing him gently down on the bench, she started licking his little turnip until it stirred. He shuddered as she tongued his balls, so she kept licking them like a lollipop until he was rock hard. Pulling back the foreskin, Stacy took it in her mouth, taking in more and more, until she had him balls and all in her mouth. The magic of her mouth didn’t take long: in a couple of minutes Tom’s shuddered and thrust upward as he fed her his semen. She drank it down hungrily, a couple of little streams escaping the sides of her mouth, and held it in until it was flaccid again. He sighed as she released his scrotum from her lip lock, and lay there, not moving, just starting at the ceiling. Winking, she walked out of the room, forgetting her robe, returning to her rooms stark naked except for her fuzzy pink slilppers.
Ben and Holly left also, assuming Tom would recover after a while. The smile on his face was the biggest Ben had ever seen. When they got back to his rooms, he poured more brandy for both of them and lit another cigar. “I think we can call the retreat a success, can’t we?” he smirked.
Holly nodded. “I think you need to bring that set up in here.”
“I like that idea,” Ben smiled, “but there isn’t room in here. Stacy’s room isn’t usually used; we can put it there.”
She smiled. “Sounds like my next mortification will be brutal.”
Ben puffed his cigar and pictured it: Holly’s head and hands in the stocks, her body resting on the bench, her breasts bound with clothespins on the nipples and her ass red after flogging. “I’ll even get some condoms.”
“All right. But I’m not taking it up the ass.”
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