Chapter 11

The following few months were a series of setbacks for the newly arrived Crusader forces in the Holy Land. The lack of proper training for the foot soldiers and the undeniable lack of quality in the arms distributed to the common soldiers was so apparent that he made himself a nuisance in the royal tent loudly shouting his dismay at the disinterested rear echelon fops that seemed only interested in establishing firm connections at court and getting their share of the pie of gold and rare gems forfeited by the heathen hordes.

He compensated his sense of displeasure by frequently humping the gypsy woman and her daughter as the whim arose inside him.

They both seemed well adjusted to his carnal demands and all was in order in that regard at least.

He was ordered to take his men down the road to Damascus searching for more loot and captured pilgrims held hostage by the fanatical followers of Islam. At first, it was a boring detail and one rift with discomfort and noticeable lack of female companionship for the troops serving under him.

In order to nip the seeds of rebellion in the ranks, he sent a scout party out to round up several dozen females from the surrounding populace to succor the soldiers need for feminine support.

He was driven to laughter at the overly young and depressingly old females the scout party had tracked down in their raiding party to find female candidates for servicing the men’s need for up close and personal companionship.

Still, he noticed a trio of poorly clad females in the midst of the group and noticed they looked surprisingly European in both features and general physical attitude.

He had them brought before him and saw immediately that they were not part of the local populace but most likely white captives of the non-believers. The female in charge was determined to be Sister Angela of the French order of nuns from southern France and the other two females were younger novitiates of the order not yet consecrated by Holy Orders.

He ordered the gypsy mother and daughter to tend to their needs and wash the filth of captivity from them and give them suitable attire to attest to their proper position.

Robert used the peep hole in the washing room to observe the naked forms of the three women and he found his shaft was so awakened that he prematurely shot his cream against the side of the tent with great force.

The more mature nun was possessed of a superb figure and her tits were quite upstanding like a much younger woman. He watched the gypsy mother press her hands all over the body of Sister Angela with great relish with no attempt to disguise her happiness at tending to the former captive’s skin in even the most delicate places.

To opine that Sir Robert was seriously aroused would be an understatement at this critical point of his manly relationships with members of the opposite sex.

He surreptitiously watched the five females intertwining in an unrehearsed session of feminine favors thinking that he might make use of the trio of nuns in his future dealings with the heathen horde. To be sure, he would take any bonus perks of their close relationship as a boon for his pleasure.

They dined that evening with the three new female specimens sitting at his side and he inhaled the fresh scent of feminine odors that swirled like devious snakes up into his nostrils filling him with waves of masculine desire that overwhelmed his ability to logically think of any other subject.

Sister Angela was practically sitting in his lap. Her long flowing attire was somewhat disheveled since she was somewhat into her cups what with the exhilaration of freedom at long last after a long period of incarceration. He spied her glorious bush in all its splendor laying like a prize for his taking if he was so inclined.

Her two companions were equally as besotted with the delicious wine from the hills of Galilee giggling at the heated touching of the sturdy knights surrounding them on both sides. Their names were Sister Charity and Sister Hope. He understood now why they sometimes addressed Sister Angela as Sister Faith as they were three peas in a pod of Christendom.

Robert ventured a cautious hand on Angela’s bare knee to see her reaction to his uninvited advance. He was much rewarded by her sharp intaking of air into her lungs and her opening of her knees in an unmistakably wanton pose.

The pair of younger nuns were escorted to the knight’s quarters for some playful bedding, and he led Sister Angela to his private tent for some deep conversation about her immediate future.

Strangely, the proud religious female was crying as he led her to his sleeping mat in the darkened interior of the tent. When he asked her the reason for her tears, she looked up into his inquisitive eyes, and replied in a voice so low he had difficulty in hearing her words.

“My lord, I have been very bad recently, but it was not of my choice. My captors used me to humiliate me in front of my companions and to break my spirit and self-esteem. Unfortunately, I find such treatment quite inspiring to my sense of acceptance of punishment as a path to true contrition and I offered up my suffering to God and in all honesty, I enjoyed the process much more than a proper nun should under the circumstances.”