One of the safest and least stressed environments in existence is the life inside a convent devoted to pursuits other than the mundane needs of a modern society. This was a fact that often relaxed the sometimes tense Susan Flanagan into contemplative introspection.
Sister Sue was not what one would call "Beautiful".
In fact, a casual observer would be hard-pressed to describe her as "Pretty".
A totally fair and balanced appraisal would acknowledge that she was both young and pleasing of face with a female figure of some considerable desirability. But, of course, all of that was most decided ... moot. Sue took the rules and vows seriously and strived to always conform to the perfect image of the perfect Saint in her mind from the earliest that she could remember. Whenever she had an impure thought, she would kiss her rosary, spin three times and think about strawberries. Strawberries were her favorite food and she could eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Sue's parents were not too pleased with her "calling". They saw it as the church stealing a good little worker away from the struggling family. Her father was sorry to see the convent door slam shut behind her because she was absolutely organized in finding his newspaper and making sure his pipe was always handy when he wanted a quick puff.
Her mother was hard-pressed to take solace in the fact she had given birth to a servant of the Lord because she was far too busy serving the needs of seven other siblings of the pious girl. She was much afraid that her naïve daughter had seen only the downside of copulation with the closely spaced pregnancies and the needs of little babies to be constantly tended to. She never had the chance to make her fully aware of the joys of union with a male partner buried to the hilt in passionate embrace. She hoped her constant complaining about her husband's faults had not biased the child against love and marriage.
Sue was quite at ease with her situation inside the cloistered halls.
She had made friends with several of the older nuns and found them to be most friendly and kind. Even the mother superior had allowed her to sit on her lap and bury her face in her swelling bosom just like she did at home with her own ma. Sue was glad there were no men in the convent. Only the father from the near-by parish visited for the sacraments and he seldom brought young altar boys at his side. She was ever nervous around males because she thought their long rods to be an instrument of the devil. When she watched the nasty hoydens down under the railway bridge taking it in their fannies from behind, she prayed non-stop for their salvation. She knew they were laughing and giggling about it now, but that they would not be smiling at the pearly gates.
She went to the mother superior's office on a Saturday morning to obtain guidance on the strange feeling between her legs when she hugged the pillows to hold them upright for the new linen. She explained it made her feel flushed and of an intent to hug tighter than necessary.
The mother superior explained to the inexperienced girl that she was just feeling the needs of the flesh that are often mentioned in the bible. She told her that it was quite normal and that if she made a nightly effort to relieve her "internal pressures" she would sleep better and be able to do her work better the next day. When little Sister Sue asked,
"How do I relieve my internal pressures, dear mother?"
The much older and much wiser woman went over to the mahogany cabinet which was a gift from the parents of a girl recently arrived at the convent and took out a small leather pouch. She opened it up and showed Sister Sue the contents. The curious sister saw a circular shaft of a rubber material and a small rounded end shaped somewhat like a bell. The older woman twisted off the end and popped out two small batteries of a common type. She replaced them with two new ones from her desk drawer.
"This should give you enough juice for at least a week, Sister Sue. When you can't get any more from them, just come back and see me and we will exchange them for new ones. Some of the sisters go through two of these in a single week and others make the batteries last for an entire month. Remember that when you use these "B.O.B.s" you are merely following my orders and not committing a sin of the flesh. You should insert it with lots of this ointment in the jar from the bottom shelf."
When the poor girl seemed a bit confused with all the instructions, the still-attractive mother superior told her,
"Sit up on top of my desk, dear, and lift your robes out of the way. That's right, all the way up so I can show you the correct way to use this little BOB in a way that will insure your peace of mind."
Sue stretched out with her knees wide open and watched the mother superior's gentle hands pull her folds open and insert the battery-operated device into her womanhood. The older woman shoved it in deeper and deeper until it bottomed out against the membrane of her hymen. The mother superior looked at her quizzically surprised that the girl was still a virgin. She held her hand tightly and pushed with some force until the "cherry-busting" deed was done. After that, Sue started to enjoy the friction and fell into a whining orgasm holding the older woman's hand as if she were in deep meditation.
Each night after her acquiring the BOB for her personal use, Sue diligently worked it into every hidden corner of her pussy extracting copious spurts of female juices onto her sheets and mattress cover. She often played with it to the point of sweaty exhaustion and knee quaking orgasms.
All of the other sisters noticed the change in Sister Sue. She was always bright and cheerful now and she was willing to any chore no matter how distasteful. In fact, she lost some of the weight she had put on since entering the convent due to the rather sedentary lifestyle of prayer and meditation. Now she was back to her trim, slender self with nubile youthful bounce to her breasts and behind under her concealing robes.
There was a side effect to her new relationship with BOB that grew increasingly distracting. Her nightly unions with the battery-operated device had made her very close to the gadget and she began to talk to it as one would speak to a boyfriend or a spouse. The other sisters noticed that on many occasions Sue would start off a conversation with,
"I don't think BOB would want me to take that long shopping. He expects me back right after dinner."