Chapter 3

When the strange Gypsy father and son team of traveling fun seekers visited the convent the following month, they found the sleepwalking nun almost in the same place by the bus stop waiting for some innocent male nocturnal passerby to take advantage of her trance-like state to guide her into a satisfying carnal landing.

They did a perfect encore of threesome copulation with a familiarity that thrilled the sleepwalking nun right down to the depths of her demanding feminine core.

This time the convent organizers became acquainted with her affliction and it was decided that the convent and the sleepwalking nun would part company for the good of the reputation of the order.

Rebecca sensed that her sleepwalking problem might be more trouble than she had originally suspected and she would have to get it cured in order to function as a normal acting person accepted by society as suitable for inclusion.

The Gypsies offered to take her with them as backup for their entertainment show of magic and other tricks. The younger son spent endless hours with her showing her the ins and outs of picking pockets and distracting easy marks with her winsome ways with a small display of bare skin to confuse them about the exact location of their purse in pursuit of female flesh close at hand and generally conducive to handling with the touch of discretion.

She was ready to do just that when the butcher’s wife advised her to go to Doctor Handel in the “Old City” and take his sessions of hypnotic curing that drove away a multitude of sicknesses of the mind like sleepwalking or peeing without shame right out in public. Of course, Rebecca didn’t have the peeing problem, but her sleepwalking had become quite dangerous to her well-being and it had already cost her a life of sustained moderation behind cloistered walls.

Doctor Handel was an older gentleman and he wore the most outrageous spectacles she had ever seen in her whole life. They sat almost on the end of his nose and she wondered if they would fall off if he was humping one of his patients in private like some of the so-called healers that considered a patient their property whilst under their care and control.

She explained her problem and he sat her down on a stool and swung a golden watch in front of her face for some length of time and she thought it was funny and would never work on her agile mind.

Sometime later, she woke up with her skirts up and her slit leaking Doctor Handel’s liquid essence as proof positive that the hypnosis worked quite well despite her conviction she was totally immune.

He had implanted a system of checks and balances in her mind that precluded the inclination to walk in her sleep and it worked like a charm until that sultry autumn night when she had an itch between her legs that could not be denied.

There were some that to this day speculate that the sleepwalking nun was not at all in a comatose state on that night when she was exposed as a fornicator and an adulterer in front of an entire congregation of the faithful.

No amount of contrition or pleas for consideration fell on hearing ears in the aftermath of indignation at the fully religiously costumed nun copulating in public with the rowdy elements of society. Especially, with that scum of humanity that had absolutely no respect for the sanctity of proper conduct between religious folk and civilians in a public place. Sister Rebecca was in violation of the laws of the church and the passed-down Commandments of God in matters of adherence to the carefully stated rules of no carnal activities whilst under the vow of chastity.

The price she had to pay was banishment from the Order of her calling and cessation of all rights to the partaking of Communion and excommunication from the grace of God in reconciliation and total cutting off of any chance of redemption without some sort of softening of the rules from Rome itself. That was a possibility that was almost a non-starter because of her negative perceptions from the church-going populace.