1. The Passion of Agnes Part 5


    Date: 11/23/2015, Categories: Lesbian, Author: Audrey_X, Rating: 5, Source: LushStories

    the loo. There, in private, I could soothe my overwrought body and then return with a level head, which I sorely needed. Perhaps I could even find a way to escape. I wondered how to do this without betraying that I could speak. The Abbess watched dispassionately for a while but mainly observed the men. She muttered something under her breath, repetitively. It sounded like a different language, Latin perhaps, I was the only one sitting close enough to hear. She seemed to be concentrating hard, waiting for something that it turned out was not long in arriving. “Stop!” the Abbess demanded in her despotic voice of silk. The sisters, rather reluctantly, ceased their amorous explorations. I turned to look. The men were unconscious. Her victorious gaze turned to me. “You can thank me later. What is your name? You are obviously neither mute nor stupid.” “Therese madame.” “Madame? You are to address me as Abbess.” So saying she walked calmly to me, smiled and slapped my face, without rancour. “You are one of us now. Help us with these men.” The tone changed and the sisters worked with a different sort of discipline, rapidly dressing in simple clothes at hand. We all went to work on the slumped criminals, binding and trussing them. The Sauvois man helped as well, his wife still keeping watch. Upon her signal we dragged their heavy bodies, the Abbess supervising us, into a covered hayrick waiting outside. “You can keep the couch!” the Abbess shouted back as she whipped the horses ...
    herself and we drove off. The innkeepers dour faces seemed to brighten somewhat. “And so my fate twists in the wind Sister Agnes. Of course the Abbess in her way has been kind to me. She saved me from the clutches of slave-traders but then why abduct them and what has she done with them? Can you tell me? At any rate, I became aware of the easy and loose mores of the courtesan on the ride to your monastery. The women teased me, sizing me up even more brazenly than our new prisoners had. The one called Thorgerd, the buxom blonde, was the worst. The one whose sweaty golden hair clung to her supple back as she rode the brunette’s face. She kept pinching me and tickling me and trying to grope my breasts. I was vexed to tears by the time Clarissa told them to leave me be. We sat atop the men during the ride who snored under us. I may seem loquacious now but only because we are already friends Agnes. I am normally very shy especially when dealing with new and stressful situations. I still find myself unable to understand how a convent like this can exist but I am beginning to feel grateful for it. When the walls of the Order came in to view I felt, wrongly it seems now, that I would simply be a different sort of prisoner from the slave that the Beautoix gang intended me to be. At any rate, to be as brief as possible, this is how I found myself in a cell in this nunnery, living I gather directly above your Abbess. She still has not seen fit to instruct me in what I am to do here and I am ...
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