I was on a cycling holiday in Eastern France, it was the thing to do in the Seventies - there being no cheap air flights! At Cambridge I was studying Modern Languages and I thought a three week cycling tour of Lorraine and Alsace would be good for my education, and boy, how it was.
On the first Saturday in the late afternoon, I was travelling at speed, down a hill and as I turned a corner, I ran wide and went it the gravel. The wheels skidded and I slide off sideways. My body hit a door and it burst open. My head hit the doorjamb and I lost consciousness.
When I came to I was surrounded by women, some in dresses and others in Nun's habits.
"Am I in heaven?" They smiled but didn't speak. It took it a bit of time and then I realised I was in France and they didn't understand me, so I scrabbled around in my brain and translated into French.
"Bon Jour, est ici heaven?"
"Mais non, monsieur cette une convent"
I was in quite a bit of pain and I looked down and my thigh was all scratched and bleeding - my shorts had been torn in the slide along the road. Two nuns helped me walk into their convent and into a reception room. There, they washed my cuts. I asked after my bicycle and two women went out and pulled it into the yard.
After the treatment they helped me go to the bike and take the panniers off, which held my spare clothing. I extracted a pair of trousers. Another woman came into the room. She was dressed in an ordinary frock and seemed to be in charge - and she spoke English.
"Who are you and why have you come here? This is a Convent and a Retreat for abused women. We do not allow men here."
"I'm sorry, madam, but have had an accident and I fell through your Entry Door. Can I change into these somewhere, s'il vous plait?"
She helped me to a small bedroom on the first floor. I had difficulty walking up the stairs and my arm hurt.
"This is the bedroom that is used by the priest when he stays. You can change here."
"Fine" and I sat down and changed out of my shorts. I walked back out of the room and the woman in charge, who was called Jeanne, took me down to the Rectory. Apparently the convent used to have about 100 of nuns. The Germans had raped and pillaged the convent in the war, and reduced the numbers. Recently very few young girls came forward to become Brides of Christ.
"Nowadays, we have six old nuns and eighteen women who have retreated from the world or have been abused by men and want to get away. They pay what they can and spend as long as they like here. We are supported financially by the Church and by rents from the local village. Also we sell our own brand of Liquor."
"Could I stay here until I recovered my strength please?"
"Well, if this was only a convent, a man would not even be allowed over the threshold, but since we are a retreat now as well, I think you could stay a few days."
She showed me round and introduced me to some of the women but not the nuns. They all had work to do, cleaning, cooking, bottling and they also had discussion groups. Everyone attended the chapel twice a day.
"You can stay in the Priest's room. It is close to the communal lavatories and wash room."
She took me in, and I saw wooden partitioned seated toilets on the left room with four cubicles on each side, eight in all. There were no doors on any of the cubicles. In the right hand room there was a line of hand basins facing mirrors, and on the other side, on the right hand wall, four cubicles of shower units.
"We recently had the seated lavatories installed. - before that there was just holes in the floor. The older nuns were having trouble squatting down and getting up again."
I noticed that at the far end of the lavatories, there was a cubicle which had a plank about twelve inches wide behind it, going from the toilet cubicle into the washroom area, through a large hole in the wall. The seat consisted of two side supports held about six inches above the bowl.
"What is that toilet cubicle with the plank for?" I asked Jeanne.
"Oh, that was used for punishing the nuns who disobeyed the Mother Superior. We only use it for amusement now."
I looked at the device closely. The plank came through the back of the toilet so that it jutted out into the bowl. The other end of the plank extended out and was resting on another toilet bowl and had a circular hole cut in it. Half way along, there was a wide leather strap dangling down the side. I wondered what it would be like to be strapped on it, and my penis twitched at the idea of licking a load of cunts and being pissed on.
I spent the rest of the afternoon fixing my bike. I also talked to some of the women - some were friendly and a few hostile. By the evening, I was feeling much fitter and I drank several glasses of wine with my meal. Afterwards I was given a glass of their liquor. It tasted sweet and was not as strong as Green Chartreuse or Benedictine. I liked it and had another glass. Unfortunately, I got into an argument with three of the abused women, who had taken a dislike to all men. The upshot was, that I was bundled upstairs into the toilet and strapped to the plank in the toilets. My trousers were pulled down and my ankles were tied to the side of the bowl.
I woke up the next morning with a bad headache at the sound of a bell. I could see sunlight and I could hear some of the women talking amongst themselves. They were laughing and pointing at me. Then one came over to my cubicle, and lifted her nightie and squatted over my face. I looked up between her thighs and she looked down at me. Her pubic hairs were tickling my nose and I opened my nose to protest but then she started to piss and my mouth was suddenly full of it. I had to swallow - it was hot and salty. When she finished, I licked up the last few drops. Then she rose up off me and looked down.
"That's for leaving me you bastard,." and she pulled down her nightie. The next one came on top of me and did the same, but this time I kept my mouth shut. The third woman went round to the other end and I felt her play with my prick until it was hard enough for her to sit on it. She didn't insert it into herself but rubbed her cunt up and down it, then pissed over it.
I was left in peace for a bit and I could see other women coming in and using the hand basins. They all looked at me but no one wanted to abuse me. There was a gap in time while everyone had their breakfast. Then Jeanne came up to see me with a cup of coffee and a croissant. She let me sit up to drink the coffee, but made it clear that I was not to move out. I drank my coffee and then went and had a piss and shit myself - in a different cubicle!
"We had a meeting after breakfast and we have decided that you should be punished for invading our living space"
"But it was an accident!"
"Yes, but you are still here so you must pay for your sins. You must serve a day strapped on the toilet seat."
Jeanne strapped me down and then pulled her knickers off and sat on my face.
"Embrace my lower hole," she said in French.
I dutifully pushed my tongue up through the mass of hair and licked her cunt. She moved it up and down until I felt her clitoris at the top of her slit. I licked hard and put my teeth on it, to give her a sensation of pain. She cried out and some liquid came into my mouth followed by lot of piss. I had no option but to swallow it all. My prick was standing to attention. She got off me and went round to my cock. She grasped hold of it and slid herself down, then proceeded to fuck me hard. I came very quickly. She rested a moment or two then climbed off and came back to me to make me lick my own spunk off her twat, it was like licking ice cream from a cornet.
After that I had a steady stream of women coming in to have a piss over my face. Then one fat woman, sat her large bum over my face, cutting out all daylight. I dutifully pushed my tongue up and found her arse hole. It was wrinkled and closed but I pushed into it. Then to my horror I felt a turd coming out. I didn't have a chance to pull my head away and the turd came into my mouth. I struggled not to swallow but it went in any way, followed by a second one. I had to swallow both. I felt sick. Then she moved back a bit a let fly with a load of smelly piss. I managed to turn my head and vomited out the turds.
.... There is more of this story ...