Chapter 4: Sister Immaculata's Dilemma

After a full decade of devoted service in her vocation to the order, Sylvia Collins was beginning to have some nagging self-doubts about the resilience of her calling.

Now that she was coming to the end of her twenties, she felt those biological urges that had plagued her in her teenaged years to experience the stretching of her reproductive system. It was, of course, perfectly normal for nubile females with selfsame budding but yet unfulfilled yearnings. However for a female person with commitments to tend to, it was entirely out of the question.

Right at the moment in the privacy of her little compartment, she knelt on the prayer bench in front of the closet mirror totally naked except for her ever-present hair binding that she used to hide the beauty of her flowing red hair. Her glistening buttocks were waiting for the touch of the long supple whip that she held in secrecy and used to flagellate the sinful thoughts from her impure lower regions.

"Whap!"

She squirmed left and right knowing that her aim was right on the target.

"Oh, for the love of mercy, I beg your forgiveness for my sins."

"Whap!"

"Ahh!"

"Whap, whap!"

"Shit, piss and corruption, get you behind me, Satan. I am only a poor nun trying to be good."

Sylvia looked in the mirror and saw the telltale red stripes glowing with deserved guilt on her milk-white skin. Unable to restrain her hand, she reversed the whip and teased her tight little star with the smooth, well-worn handle that had found her entryways always ready for its presence.

"Oh, my, don't be so eager, Mister Whip, you must be a gentleman and allow me to open slowly. Yes, just like that my long black lover, make me take it now and I will be a good girl."

Her slit was weeping now and she knew her guilt was increased tenfold but she was unable to shake her need for more. She made sure the door to the cell was locked from the inside and ran to the narrow bed to press her shuddering body facedown into the plain white sheet. She put her small private towel under her mound to hide the drainage from the pleasures she took almost every night when she was alone in her solitude.

She let the pressure build slowly and then paused for a delicious contemplation of the extent of her depravity.

How could she be such a religious oriented person with intentions of true piety and still fall into these sessions of base desires? She had no easy answer for such a difficult question. If only she had allowed her pre-convent day's boyfriend Reynaldo to hump her like he so ardently desired, perhaps her hunger would not be so demanding for release. She had even taken him into her mouth at his insistence but had not swallowed the sticky stuff because it tasted frightfully bitter. He had also deposited countless little puddles of the same stuff on her belly and on her backside but she had never allowed him to enter either gateway in a desire to remain pure at heart despite her joy at watching his face when he was spurting on her heated skin.

The beautiful naked nun resumed her activities. Her face and mouth pressed into the pillow to hide her explosive gasp of fast approaching pleasure. Then, her slit exploded with one of those soul-shattering orgasms that were her reward for her self-flagellating pain and subsequent masturbatory routine. This one was really a whopper and she rested in a puddle of female juices and sweat hoping the sheet would not reveal her indiscretions.

The morning bell awoke her and she was still in the same position. Quickly, she sponged her body completely and did her best to hide the evidence of her guilt. It would be another day in the school with the young hooligans who did their best to torment her beyond her limits. She was exceedingly careful to avoid looking at the graduating boys on the verge of manhood with their packages suggestively lurking between their strong muscular legs. She was convinced most of the swaggering fellows had already tasted the delights of the less-than-virginal female students in the class.

Sister Immaculata kept her long eighteen inch ruler always on the ready in her left hand to whack any boy with loose hands and touch up a teasing girl right on her backside when they got too carried away with flirting. Deep down inside, she was in sympathy with their immature fumbling but she could never display such a liberal response to youthful exuberance because it would be a betrayal of her position of authority.

Now that the Halloween festival was upon them, she had to get the members of the drama club ready for the little stage play that they presented each year during the month of October. It was not as complicated as the Christmas pageant but it was still a fun production and she felt it helped to focus the students in a more positive direction instead of just witches and goblins and such silly reflections of the devil's work.

She was working on the little dance sequence that involved the girls dancing around the "scarecrow" raised on a pole in the middle of their circle. The distracted nun noticed the giggling girls had suddenly become less noisy and she broke thru their little tight circle of teenaged flesh and saw they were staring at poor Father O'Connor who had graciously volunteered to be this year's "Scarecrow". He was attired in the scarecrow costume which was a bit tight on his athletic frame and wore the hat and beard that went with the image. It all looked correct and proper until she lowered her gaze to the sight of a noticeable bulge in the unsuspecting priest's crotch that clearly revealed the huge outline of a thick cock of enormous size and a pair of manly balls that hung like Christmas tree ornaments just below. The poor man had no idea his package was so visibly displayed and the young girls were so taken with the tempting sight that they were driven to sinking their naughty fingers into their sinful snatches.