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  1. The Passion of Agnes Part 3


    Date: 11/15/2017, Categories: Lesbian, Author: Audrey_X, Rating: 4, Source: LushStories

    The keyhole was wide. What occurred in the punishment cell, which Abbess Clarissa eccentrically called the Misericord, was the stuff of constant gossip among the lesser sisters, but what I now beheld made me gasp in awe. The room was peopled with four naked female bodies. The Abbess, her unleashed red hair falling in crimson tresses along her sensuous back, held a whip in her hand. Without her habit her ample charms were for the first time fully visible. Genevieve held a chain which attached to the collared form of Sister Gwendolyn who lapped at a dish of milk before her, reminding me of my old cat Pierre. She had clearly been punished as her back was striped with red marks yet her look was one of beatific bliss. Had she suffered or been pleasured? She fairly cooed as, at the end of her taut harness, her pink tongue lapped at the creamy milk. The walls were hung with whips, cords of leather and twine, chains with collars attached as if for the convent watchdogs, belts and sleek lacquered devices shaped like the phallus, attached to harnesses. Dangling with her wrists bound from ropes that hung from hooks set into the ceiling was Sister Mary, the meekest of all the convents sisters. She was gagged, a wad of cloth tied around her face. Her nipples were clamped with the wooden pins used to hang our wash. The Abbess, having turned her attention from the evidently satiated Gwendolyn, was poking, probing, whipping and worrying the helpless form of Mary, circling her, contemplating ...
    her, a jackal over a grounded dove. Tears coursed down her cheeks. With each smack she gave a long muffled groan and her legs buckled, her body shaking as she gave way, the ropes holding her up when she would have collapsed. As I witnessed the humiliation of these poor sisters I began to feel a heat rise simultaneously from my heart and my sex that spread quickly through my body. Why had Cordelia led me here? What had this to do with the destiny she had spoken of? Genevieve pulled Gwendolyn up from her dish, her collar taut. She led her to Mary’s tortured body which hung limply, positioning her face even with Mary’s pussy. I could see even in the wavering candlelight of the cell it was moist, glistening and swollen. The Abbess parted her legs with the end of her crop. Gwendolyn looked up at her frowning charge, apparently meekly asking permission with her eyes. Genevieve, frowning in glorious domination, yanked her chain once in response and Gwendolyn opened her mouth, receiving Mary’s eager sex. Gwendolyn’s chestnut brown eyes closed blissfully as she devoured. Her head shook a little and I heard smacking and suckling, Mary’s body shaking in a St Vitus’ Dance of pleasure. I have never envied a woman as much as I did Sister Mary at that moment. Dangling, humiliated, debased and abused, she looked like a holy martyr during the bliss of ascension. I was so absorbed I hadn’t noticed the Abbess disappear from view. The door swung open and I gasped in shock. Her severe gaze, lips ...
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