Chapter 2

It was true that Tammy and Susan were a pair of troublemakers at Saint Dominick and they never missed an opportunity to find a secluded corner to show the visiting boys or men that they were both swift and agile in getting on their knees and taking care of business the old fashioned way with an open mouth. Most of the other girls suspected the pair were of limited moral character but kept their mouths shut in more ways than one without spilling the beans on either of them.

Sister Agnes had already confiscated their filthiest articles of undies and some items of dubious merit from their belongings and she had no intention of turning them in because she was curious to see how they looked on her in her private mirror. The sight of her sinning weakness of the flesh was a trial for her but she knew she would be forgiven just as long as she maintained an acceptable shield of proper behavior. It was important for her to be a good role model for the students at all times and give them inspiration to keep their legs crossed when the opposite sex was close at hand.

The pretty nun always locked her bottom drawer of the triple bureau in her small room. Her sins of the flesh were hidden in there like kinky clues to her alter ego. Before she had taken her vows of chastity and obedience, she had been a bit wild when it came to giving boys what they all wanted when it came to the opposite sex. Her father was a strict sort that was not hesitant to dish out some corporal punishment to teach her to keep her undies up unless she had to go to the ladies room. Needless to say, she was fully aware of the different varieties of sexual transgressions against either God or the Church and she made an effort to avoid them. When she failed, she was wise enough to hide the evidence and pretend innocence except to her confessor. Of course, her confessor was sworn to absolute secrecy according to the laws of the church and she was gratified beyond belief by that simple measure of concealment. Besides, he was a bit hard of hearing and half the time she thought he was merely going through the motions pretending he heard everything she related even though he only heard half of it and understood the extent of her terrible sins.

Sister Agnes had gotten distressingly obsessed with the process of accepting her spanking punishments to the point that she sometimes did something outrageous to trigger her father’s ire and he would yank down her panties and give her a taste of his thick black belt right across his lap like a balky child in need of correction. She did her best to hide her secret delight at being subjected to such humiliating treatment and would cry and sob continuously begging for forgiveness and promising to be “a good girl” forever in the future. Of course, it was all playing a role in her mind and she was already plotting her next downfall with a greedy need for tingling satisfaction.

It was the mother superior, Sister Imogene that saw and recognized her need for such foolishness and she was more than willing to discipline her new disciple with a vigor not often found in a female in her late sixties and crippled with arthritic hands. Almost every trip to the mother superior’s office was the scene of her degrading submission to the biting whip she kept displayed on the wall behind her desk to frighten new students into total obedience.

She decided to let her class out a few minutes early because too many of the girls were pleading for bathroom relief after drinking too much iced tea at lunchtime. These silly girls with their inability to hold their bladders for a duration of a single class was astonishing to her because she was raised in a house with one bathroom and seven children and her ability to “hold it” was an ever constant source of pride. In fact, she had need of similar relief and quickly headed to the teacher’s lounge to relieve her iron-plated bladder of the iced tea that was perfect for cleansing her urinary tract. Whilst sitting on the throne, she heard two of the non-clerical teaching staff come into the sanctuary and confide in gleeful amusement,

“Did you see Sister Agnes this morning? She must have been hitting the closet door dildo hard last night because she was walking a bit stiffly like her backside was battered beyond normal endurance.”

The thing that bothered Sister Agnes was that she had not used the closet door dildo for several weeks after an unfortunate incident that left her with the broken off end of the device inside her rectal channel and in need of a medical process to remove it from her person. Fortunately, she had a close friend that worked in the emergency room at Saint Vincent’s that took care of the entire thing. She was eternally grateful but was severely distressed over the fact that the young man was laughing the entire time. It was lesson she learned the hard way and after that she decided to chance random coitus with strange visitors in little encounters that were fraught with danger and excitement at being caught in the act by one of the other sisters certain to accuse her of breaking her vows.

Her last union of that nature was with the man that delivered the bottled water to the school hallways. He was quite muscular because the water bottles were heavy and difficult to change without assistance. She asked him to help her change a light bulb in the storage room and he followed her docilely wiping the sweat from his neck and face with a huge red bandanna. The color of the thing excited her in her most sensitive place between her legs and she pretended to climb the ladder to change the bulb but did it just as a ploy to hike her robes up and let the man see her perfectly shaped legs. He was a large man with a huge belly developed over the years from hard work and the consumption of quantities of draft beer. She screwed in the bulb and fell back into his arms landing on his belly with her backside almost uncovered and defenseless against his demands. He took the hint immediately and pulled down her regulation panties with his huge hands and took her without a single word to ask for permission. He was quite correct in his assumption that it was all on a promise ready to be consumed at his pleasure. She wilted and then bloomed again at her impalement whimpering helplessly in his strong hands. The man used her nubile body for a rather long time finally draining his manly liquids into her quim with a loud slap on her cheeks to thank her for her indulgence.