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The Convent Correction Chapter 1 – The New Grift

Updated: Jun 17



Things always work out, don’t they? Elizabeth thought, running her fingers over her thighs in anticipation.

Just this morning, she had ridden out of town, fuming with fury at the idiots she was forced to work with for blundering yet another well-laid plan. Elizabeth had spent two whole months in Willowsbrook posing as a harmless widow with a child to see what opportunities would arise. Not only had she worn disgusting weathered rags that made her look haggard, but she even carried around Richard’s young bastard pretending it was her own father-orphaned babe.

Her stay proved nowhere near as productive as she had hoped, as the men and women of Willowsbrook had already been burned several times by drifters and remained incredibly guarded. Her beauty had gotten her some inroads with the town, at least. Despite the lackings in her heart and the fallen state of her soul, she was a supreme beauty; tall and imposing, pale and statuesque, with lacquered black locks, prominent cheekbones, full lips, and a cute pointed nose that spoke of gentle and caring qualities she did not possess. After all these months, however, the only hook Elizabeth had was to a young nobleman, Thomas, who was hopelessly in love with the blacksmith’s daughter, Emma. Of course, he was married. Emma decided to entrust the poor widow Elizabeth impersonated with this information – such a naive little bitch, who had no idea how the world really worked – which ultimately led to Elizabeth discovering that they planned to spend a morning together on the last day of the month. Emma would surrender her maidenhead to Thomas, and hope that he would keep his promise and leave his wife…

The blacksmith’s daughter was irrelevant, though Elizabeth would have liked to spend some time with her in private and teach her about how the world actually worked and an adequate way to conduct herself. The noble and idiotic Thomas, however, could fetch her and her gang a very nice ransom, enough for them to live off comfortably for at least a year. Everything was settled, and the meatheads Elizabeth kept in her gang, who had been waiting on her orders, were eager to get on with it. “We’re gonna make a king’s ransom, we are,” Richard had said, holding his now-returned bastard protectively. Elizabeth was glad to be done mommying him, even if it was just for show. How any woman could choose to give birth was beyond her. Disgusting. She supposed men could be alright, but the idea of letting one between her legs? Insanity. The only reason she kept so many of them around her was that far more of them choose a life of violence than women… although it did mean that she was surrounded by simpleminded idiots. Thankfully, the fact that she was not into men nor interested in any of their cocks only added to their loyalty and adoration rather than infuriated them – so long as they could at least listen to what she was doing with the occasional female captive they were pleased. Of course, being the merciful and magnanimous soul that she was, Elizabeth would usually let them take turns with the girls once she was done – whatever happened to her victims after she was done was completely beyond her interest.

Elizabeth skulked among the towering evergreens in the gloomy woods and observed with pleasure as Thomas and Emma rode past, him smirking, her clinging tenderly to his waist. Elizabeth might not believe in God, but they were certainly about to be punished for their sins. Instinctively, her hands reached down, one stroking the whip at her right side, the other the ivory pommel of the lovely dagger sheathed at her left – the only inheritance left by that monstrous bastard she had once been forced to call father. “Let our boys follow them,” Elizabeth instructed. “Once they dismount and begin their carnal ministries,” she paused to smirk. “Bag them.”

Richard licked his lips lecherously. “He’s got quite the catch with him.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Always thinking with their cocks. “No. Leave her. She’s nothing special, but he might pay to see her unharmed. We’ll extract every last coin from this family. You’ll have plenty of gold to buy a much prettier whore than her once we’re through here.” The warning was given, and she hoped he would understand it. In fact, going too far with the girl was about the only thing she was worried about. The plan had been worked out so well that there was really no way for anyone to screw it up.

Or so she thought.

As Elizabeth entered the clearing where she hoped to find Thomas and Emma tied up and waiting for her, she only saw her men with lowered heads, which meant that they knew they had fucked up big time. Even before she knew what happened, she could feel her blood boiling. “You. Fucking. Pricks!” she snapped. “Where are they?”

At the moment, the worst fear was that the couple had escaped. It was only when Elizabeth got close enough to see the crumpled body at their feet that she could only see red before her. “What the hell is this?” Blood gushed out of Emma’s mouth as she gargled and choked to death on it. “Jesus Christ!” Elizabeth yelled. “Who did this?”

The biggest man of the group, Ned, shrugged. “Wasn’t no one, miss. I just grabbed her and wanted to pull her off, but she ain’t let go. Then that boy started screaming and took out his pistol. I pulled harder and got her off, but the horse kicked back at the same time. It done hit her in the head.”

Elizabeth stared at him, her face twisted in pure disgust. “It done hit her in the head,” she repeated, at a loss for words. “Do you know what you’ve done? Do you idiots know what this means? We’re fucked! He got away, and she’s dead. They’ll be after us now! We have to leave!

Ned lifted his eyes, full of sorrow. “But what about the riches?”

“They’re gone,” she growled. In a single smooth motion Elizabeth drew out her dagger, flicking it between her fingers. “I ought to cut your fucking throat. The last person who cost me that much money bled out into a river.” She spat. “You stupid bastard. All of you!” Elizabeth growled. “It’s like I can’t trust you with anything.”

A few of them grumbled. Elizabeth was sure at least a few were thinking that she was a pretty woman too, and all alone. The others, though, were smarter than that. Elizabeth wasn’t in charge because she was the one who could kill them – she was in charge because she was the one who had gotten them paid and kept them out of the gallows. Those ones, the majority, mumbled apologies as they made for their horses. Elizabeth did her best to mask her dread with anger, but the feeling threatened to swallow her up whole. This was really the last thing they had to get some easy gold. There was no way they could go back South… their faces were too well known there, and that was a good way to dance with a noose. Willowsbrook was about the limit of how far North they could go before getting into the territory of dirt-poor mountain peasants with nothing worth stealing. If chased, they could board a ship and leave the country altogether. But without horses, without coin and any knowledge of the new place, what would they do?

This is a disaster… Elizabeth put one hand on her temple, wondering how to proceed. As much as she had come to feel something resembling affection for these dumb animals in her employ, it was probably time to let them go… they could make a scapegoat. Elizabeth wasn’t sure yet how she was going to accomplish that, though. Maybe she could find some gullible magistrate and convince him that they had forced her into all of this and that she escaped with her dear life, or just simply find an idiot willing to hide her for a year or two. Either way…

“Where do we go?” Richard asked her breathlessly.

“Ride,” she snapped, more unable than unwilling to provide him with a clear answer. They left Emma’s corpse to rot and headed North, taking a rarely traveled route to avoid company, and they didn’t travel in a group… groups of two or three, no more. They would, if everything was normal, meet up outside of the next town.

Elizabeth cursed herself for trusting the idiots with handling that noble. Such a beautifully easy task, completely botched. We’ll starve out here, she began to think, her pessimism beginning to take over. They’re going to find us and quarter us. It seemed hopeless to Elizabeth. How could anyone think there was a god high above, working in the world? A charming young girl like that, kicked in the head by a horse. Nobody could’ve expected that. As they rode through the forest, however, a sound reached her. It sounded like a distant cry.

“Wait!” Elizabeth ordered, bringing her horse to a sudden halt. “Do you hear that?”

She paused listening… and without the stomping of horse hooves it was clear as day. “Heeelp! Someone help us!”

Richard grinned at the hue and cry… and Elizabeth noted that so did the young babe he was still holding. Another devil in the making, it seemed. “Should we go give them a… hand?”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “Yes… maybe someone we can relieve of their coin…”

Riding in the direction of the noise, they quickly found a carriage… one with a single gangly man responsible for operating it. The carriage itself lay stuck in a ditch, and the horses were gone – a set of torn ropes showed that they had likely come free and run off. And sitting on top of the carriage, and out of the mud, was a God damned nun of all things. “Oh thank god,” the man said as they rode up. “We need help here!”

Elizabeth, Richard, and Ned slowed and came to a stop. Her eyes raked over them, looking amused. “What seems to be the matter here?”

Perhaps sensing trouble, the nun eyed them with suspicion. “Who are you?” she snapped. She was a waspish woman, a harsh middle-aged woman hiding beneath that habit, and she clearly had a sharp tongue. The nun’s voice was biting and raspy, but her face was not at all unpleasant. Her brown eyebrows were arched, her full and wet mouth rather sensuous. Elizabeth wondered what the body she hid beneath the robes was like. “Harold! ready your sword. These are ruffians!”

Elizabeth chuckled dryly, looking back at her men. “If we were, I’m not sure this poor sap could do much about it.”

Perhaps scared of the bloodthirsty-looking men accompanying Elizabeth, Harold took off his hat and stepped forward in abject submission. “We doesn’t want no trouble, miss. We was just looking to get to the convent, you see. But we had an accident on the road. The horse fell and got the carriage stuck. I tried to get him out but the ropes… they done broke, and the horse ran away. But it’s a miracle that God has sent you good Christians in our path. The Mother Superior can’t be allowed to suffer here in the cold and dark – it’s not safe.”

Elizabeth eyed the nun. “Mother Superior?”

The haughty tone of the woman only heightened. “I am Mother Superior Sylvia. And what of it?”

As her glaring eyes remained set on Elizabeth with maximum contempt, Ned slid off his horse. “Well,” she said with a smile. “I bet you’re worth something.” She nodded to Ned, and in just a second the huge man stepped forward towards Harold and with horrible, casual ease he slit his throat.

Sylvia gasped in horror and covered her face, stepping away from gushing throat. “Filth!” she screamed. “You degenerates! Ruffians! You-”

While she had been ranting, Elizabeth dismounted as well and seized Sylvia by the throat. Despite her imperious tone, Elizabeth towered over her by a whole head. “Stay with me, Mother. You are going to tell me about yourself… and everything you know about this convent.”

It took the better part of a whole day for the men to get the carriage out of the ditch. Elizabeth spent that whole time left alone with the nun, working to get everything out of her. She started by stripping Sylvia of her clothing and putting it into the carriage so it would not be tarnished, and after that Elizabeth tied her to a nearby tree from her throat. Elizabeth stood over the nun with the whip, occasionally unleashing it to get full answers from the nun rather than the reluctant half-answers she was offering. The nun was a tough one… or at least, she thought she was. After the first few hours, Elizabeth had taught her otherwise.

By the time she was finished getting all the information she wanted out of Sylvia, the nun had lost all her sense of superiority and huddled against the tree, her arms raised protectively to ward off another lash of the whip. Her body was covered by raised welts that leaked blood, her lips trembling uncontrollably. “P-Please, Mistress Elizabeth…” she begged with disarming sincerity. “No more, I know nothing more! I’ve told you everything!”

“Let’s go over it again,” the confidence artist said with a sneer. “Why were you heading to this convent?”

“The previous Mother Superior was an old woman. She died,” Sylvia choked out. “I told you all of this!”

“And you’re going to tell me again, you fucking bitch!” Though Elizabeth didn’t suspect there was any dishonesty to the story she had been told, she loved the way the whip sounded as it cracked against Sylvia’s soft pale body, and even more against her pride. The weak and desperate sobs and cries for mercy were making her so wet. This was the best part. Where they became so broken they could barely even cry. For now, though, she needed to keep her pants on… Elizabeth wanted her to go over it again and again, and make sure she wasn’t missing anything.

Because this story was almost too good to be true.

“I told you, mistress… Please…”

Elizabeth spared her the whip but gave her a hard kick in the side, making her cry out. “Tell me again, you God-loving whore. Tell me, do you touch yourself thinking of your Christ? Do you fuck that holy cunt with the cross?”

Though she appeared to be wholly broken, righteous anger flashed in Sylvia’s eyes. “You… You foul demon…” she cursed, glowering at Elizabeth despite her beaten-down position. “God will punish you for this.”

“First he’d have to exist,” she sneered. “Tell me why you were the one sent to go to the convent. Again.”

Eyes still hard, Sylvia raised her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them protectively. “I am… I am to help them establish order…”

“What kind of order is that?” she asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

“A letter was found. A letter confessing love, between two of the girls.”

“Which girls?”

“I don’t know!” she screamed, and the tears flowed once more. “I was supposed to find out!”

Elizabeth smirked and looked down at the woman in utter condescension. “It’s hard for me to imagine anyone would trust you to run an inquisition. Are you really one with a reputation for me? It seems hard to believe…”

“It’s true, it’s true!” she pleaded. “Please, I told you everything… Please…”

This… this really was almost too good to be true. She had planned to ransom the nun back to the church, but slowly a more ambitious plot was taking root in her mind. There was a convent in these secluded mountains, a convent for young girls… specifically built further away from inhabited areas to shelter them while they studied and prayed. However, the appearance of a love letter which seemed to indicate lesbian sentiments among the stuck-up, snobbish church-girls was evidently enough cause for the convent to write South to the local diocese and request help in this matter… enough that when they chose a replacement, they chose to send one with the reputation to be able to help purify the minds of the girls. Sylvia was to be that expert.

Sylvia, who none of those women would have ever met.

A new plan, a better plan, was starting to come together… she needed to be absolutely sure everything was true. Could it truly be so? There was only one way for Elizbeth to find out. “Hey, boys! Tie her hands together and raise her hands up above her.” The malicious woman leaned against the side of the wagon and ate an apple, letting the juices drip down her chin while Sylvia was unceremoniously hoisted up to her feet and then further. At this point, the men that might have been coming after them were long forgotten, and by the time Elizabeth was done she would barely even be associated with these bandits. After all, who could say otherwise. Hardly enough to get her quartered. Whipped, perhaps, but not much else.

As Sylvia dangled in the air, Elizabeth’s bandits ogled her naked body and made lewd comments. A few of them reached inside their trousers to stroke their cocks, and Ned was enough of a brute to pull his out entirely and shake it for the nun, forcing her to watch. Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she passed into the carriage and picked up the crucifix, taking the wooden cross and approaching Sylvia with a smile. “You know, Sylvia, I want to believe you,” she said as the nun spun lazily from the rope. “I really do… but I can’t afford to. And there’s only one way I can make sure you’re telling me the truth.”

Sylvia noticed the cross and shuddered. “P-Please! You don’t have to do this! I’ve already told you everything!” Elizabeth clicked her tongue and slowly shook her head as two of her men walked over and, at her orders, held Sylvia still and spread her ass for her. Even before Elizabeth touched her, the nun began to cry for help. Not for God’s help, either – she was praying for the mercy of men, for someone, anyone to please help her. Grinning, Elizabeth placed the cool, bronze-covered foot of the cross against her ass and began to push. Thec cries turned into shrieks as the mercilessly thick and fairly rough crucifix forced its way through her virgin ass and split it open. The already frenzied shrieks turned into air-rending howls of pure agony. The characteristically high-pitched femininity in her voice was lost as Elizabeth kept raping her ass, stripping Sylvia of all her dignity and humanity. Moments later, the bestial growls that left her lips sounded just like those that might belong to an animal.

“Look at her, she loves it!” Ned mocked, continuing to stroke himself.

“Give it to her deeper!” Richard cheered.

“Christ, but the bitch just loves the Redeemer. Shove him up her ass the whole way!” Ned continued.

Grinning, Elizabeth did just as he said. She wiped the film of sweat building on her forehead and shoved the beam up with unrestrained brutality till the horizontal beam of the cross slapped against Sylvia’s bloody and whipped asscheeks. The cross impaled the nun well enough that Elizabeth could take her hands away and step right up against her. “Tell me,” she growled. “Does anyone there know you? Anyone, at all? If you give me any reason, any reason to all, to doubt you, then I’m going to take a hammer and use it on this cross until it’s so deep inside your guts you can taste it, do you fucking understand me?”

“I swear!” Sylvia sobbed, fat tears dripping down her cheek. “I swear!”

Elizabeth took a step back to admire the work, brushing her long, dark hair out of her face. “Alright. Then I guess I believe you.” Giggling darkly, she dusted her hands off as a laborer getting ready for a break. “Alright. She’s yours now, boys. I’m afraid I have a date elsewhere.” She looked at Ned. “Meet up with the others. I will send messages to you in the days to come. In the meantime, enjoy yourselves, stay low, and remain hidden.” She turned to go but quickly stopped to add, “Oh, and don’t kill the whore. I may need her later.” Elizabeth glanced over at Richard. “If you want a chance to make another bastard, I recommend you go first. I’m going to need you to stick with me for a while.”

As Elizabeth climbed into the carriage and began to try on Sylvia’s habit herself she listened to her men starting their sadistic, horrible work on the hanging nun. The slaps. The spitting. The screams and begging. And then, finally, the sounds of flesh impacting flesh. She was torn about how to feel. On one hand, men disgusted her. On the other hand, though, Sylvia’s suffering excited her terribly. The habit didn’t fit her especially well, but Elizabeth had experience in modifying clothing to fit in for her cons. With some time in the carriage and a needle she could make this work. After she felt Richard climb up onto the coachman’s set, she thumped three times on the window. “Lets go,” she commanded, and the wagon, led by her and Richard’s horse, rolled on.

Elizabeth slid into the carriage seat, her needle working on the habit as they hurried down the forested path towards the mountains that she trusted would lead to the convent. The confidence woman was surprised by a strange feeling in her heart. Was this… gratitude? Just hours ago, her life appeared to be over, thrown completely into disarray. Now the potential for the greatest grift of her life had just fallen right into her lap like a gift from above. Things always work out, don’t they? Elizabeth thought, running her fingers over her thighs in anticipation. A few rays of the dying sun caught her eyes as they filtered down through the canopy, and Elizabeth wondered if, perhaps, maybe there was some being up in the heavens looking out for her. “Maybe there really is a god,” she mused.

A convent. That would be new. Never in her life had she been among too many women, excepting those few abysmal weeks spent in that rotten whorehouse she wished she could forget. That was where her father had sold her. Where he thought she belonged after he had no further use for her. After her mother had died he had fucked her for years, tormenting her day and night, until he needed food and booze for his stomach more than he needed a hole for that disgusting cock between his legs, and then he had sold her off like a cheap goat.

Sometimes she wondered if, in the end, he figured out that that was what had pushed her over the edge. It wasn’t all the trauma and rough use, the sorrow and misery, the nights spent crying and all the disgusting cocks… it was the idea that she was cheap. Elizabeth was many things, but she was never, ever, cheap. He probably didn’t. Daddy had been too busy in those final moments trying to scoop up his guts and put them back into his chest. It had been cold, the dead of winter… his entrails had steamed in the crisp winter air and he grunted and moaned in pain, and it had been a beauty that Elizabeth could have scarcely imagined prior to that point. Something more sublime than any mural, than any cross, than any church steeple.

The sincere and pure beauty of revenge… and getting what she wanted.

Of course, Elizabeth hadn’t even gotten a chance to enjoy the fat pig’s death. Her sister – daddy’s new little fucktoy – had come at her with the kitchen knife. She had thought her sister would welcome her, and would want to be rescued from their father’s clutches… but the delusional bitch hadn’t been. Elizabeth hadn’t had much time to think about anything but the betrayal as she slid the knife right into Lilly’s tender white belly and gasped as her sister’s hot blood touched her fingers.

She guessed that she preferred his cock, and the privileges that came from sharing his bed. That dirty whore.

The carriage was slowing to a stop. Elizabeth opened her eyes again and glanced out the small window at a large wood and stone fortress looming before her, rather ugly and unwelcoming. The only admission to beauty here at all, really, was the painted cross on the front of the convert. Most churches she had seen were pretty things, things for the god-fearing bastards to use to show off how wealthy and important they were. Not this one. This one was a place for the church to get women out of sight that they – or their parents – didn’t want seen.

Richard opened the door for her. “I think this is it,” he grinned. “Mother Superior.”

As Elizabeth, dressed in her stolen habit, stepped out of the carriage, a few other women in habits of their own furtively emerged from the building and came to greet her. A few wore the clothing just like hers, but others, two of them, wore theirs completely in white. Novitiates, she felt sure. Though she was completely new to this power dynamic, it felt oddly right to Elizabeth as they walked up to stand before her and bowed their heads lightly. “Mother Superior,” they whispered, awestruck and… and afraid.

Yes… afraid of her. Sylvia hadn’t been lying about her reputation, it seemed. Or maybe it was Elizabeth’s own intensity that caused it. Either way, it was surprisingly potent… and seeing it on their faces was only proper.

“Welcome to the Convent of the Sisterhood of Salvation, Reverend Mother,” one of the nuns said. Elizabeth was immediately drawn to her scintillating, innocent green eyes and her sweet smile. “I expected you yesterday. I feared that we had been forsaken.”

“Not at all,” said “Sylvia,” returning the nun’s smile with one of her own. If this was the one who had known to expect her, then… “You must be Prudence,” she said with a small nod.

Prudence almost gasped. “Yes, Reverend Mother, that’s me! You’ve read all of my letters?”

Elizabeth nodded solemnly. “I most certainly have,” she agreed. “It is a most serious situation that needs to be handled.” She let her eyes flicker over the woman. The habit that her new “sister” wore was modest and well suited to her, but perhaps a little cheap – Much fabric had been used to make them as voluminous as possible, with several layers undulating and draping across whatever soft flesh lay underneath to hide any hint of it. Even so, there was something appealing beneath it.

The eyes of the woman standing next to Prudence, however, were even more appealing. They were dark and glittering and a little bit hard, a brown so deep they were almost black. They contrasted with an alabaster heart-shaped face that was translucently white, dusted only by a few freckles around the nose. Her features were appealing, even if the robes hid her body much better than they did Prudence’s. “And you are, sister?”

“This is Sister Cecilia!” Prudence announced. “I’ve written to you about her as well, Reverend Mother.”

Ah. So this was Cecilia. Sylvia had mentioned her from the letters she had received. She was, supposedly, a kind and warmhearted woman that dedicated her life to looking out for young girls. In Elizabeth’s eyes, however, there was something wrong with that description… there was something almost reptilian in the other sister’s gaze. For a moment, it made her concerned that she was stepping into more of a viper’s den than she had planned for… but no. Much more likely, it seemed that Prudence couldn’t be trusted to be a good judge of character.

“And this here is Sister Ester,” Prudence continued, turning to the third of the older nuns that had come out. “She’s the most senior of us.”

The woman Elizabeth crossed eyes with now was different. Her face was tan, her eyes a piercing blue, and a strand of straw-colored hair somehow ended up escaping her headcover and cutting across her cheek. She was older than Prudence, certainly, but she had aged well… somewhere in her forties or maybe her fifties, yet she still had the beauty of a woman half her age. Elizabeth immediately pegged her as the illegitimate daughter of some noble family… Good breeding was the most likely reason for her graceful beauty.

Ester was also the one that concerned Elizabeth the most from what Sylvia had told her. She was the most veteran nun, the one who would be the least trusting of the changes Elizabeth intended. Elizabeth would need to heavily rely on her reputation as Sylvia, and keep the woman off balance. To that aim, she made a small, stern smile, and reached out to gently touch the stray lock of hair back beneath the other nun’s head cover in silent reproach, never commenting on it. “It is good to meet you, Sister.”

“You look different than what I heard, Reverend Mother,” said Ester.

The comment knocked the wind out of Elizabeth’s lungs. She remained calm. “In what way is that, sister?”

“I thought you were blonde,” Ester questioned.

So they did know something of what Sylvia looked like after all. If Elizabeth still had the nun in her grasp she would have shoved that cross back up her ass and kicked it until she couldn’t see it anymore. “I was, in my youth,” she said quickly. “My hair has darkened considerably as I’ve grown older.”

Prudence looked humiliated. “Sister Ester! What are you saying to the Reverend Mother?”

“Nothing,” Ester said quickly, hands held proudly at her back. “I am simply making an observation. I also do not like the look of the carriage-man you came with.”

Elizabeth glanced back at Richard, who openly and lecherously let his eyes trace across every nun, grinning with his mouth full of gaps in his teeth. Occasionally, the tongue would stick out through one of the gaps and wiggle provocatively. A thousand curses filled her mind. That wretched cretin. Why did she not send him away immediately?

“Driver!” she yelled cuttingly. “Cease your foolishness. Your services have been rendered. Return to the abbey in Westcalm, and be quick about it.”

The man, at least, had the grace to look ashamed. “Uh… yes mom,” he choked out, climbing onto the carriage again.

As he began the process of turning it about, Elizabeth turned to Ester with a grimace. “The quality of men available to serve God is not as good as it once was, I am afraid,” she said with a heavy air of long suffering. “You lucky women are fortunate to live so far from the heart of where the devil operates.”

Prudence murmured a prayer and bobbed her head. “Amen.”

Elizabeth turned her attention to the younger nuns who were patiently awaiting their judgment. “And who are these two? I assume one of them is responsible for writing that foul letter you told me of?”

“Absolutely not,” one of them blurted. “I would sooner die!”

The outburst caught Elizabeth by surprise, though she concealed it well. She looked more closely at the woman. Like Ester, this one was pale, but with brown hair and brown eyes and rather tall. Noble-looking. An attractive face. And young… maybe just barely twenty.

“That is enough, Mercy,” Ester snapped. “Your words only deepen the sense of suspicion I have for you.”

Elizabeth let her eyes wander, and soon found her eyes fixated on the final nun in the courtyard, the last of the novitiates here… and, in Elizabeth’s opinion, well worth fixating on. She was a blonde angel, her hair so bright that it was almost white and caused her eyebrows to be difficult to notice at first. Her cheeks were soft, her eyes were bright, and there was a sweet, innocent light in those eyes that made Elizabeth want to see her screaming. “And you, Sister? What do you say?”

She seemed startled that she would be addressed. “I- uh… I-” the blonde stuttered. “I don’t know, Reverend Mother.”

“That is Alana,” said Prudence. “She is very shy, Reverend Mother, but she is a good girl. Hardly the type to write such a vile letter.”

“Shall we take this matter inside, then?” Elizabeth asked.

“An excellent notion, from a wise woman,” Prudence said with an agreeable smile. “Novitiates. Close the door.”

The two nuns in their white habits moved to the heavy wooden door on the gate and began to push it closed. After they did, Prudence locked the gate, an iron-bound bracing in the middle. “That is a serious gate,” Elizabeth said, already processing this new information and liking what she saw. “Have there been incidents you have not reported to the diocese? Is there a risk of people breaking in here?” she inquired.

“No, Holy Mother!” Prudence said with horror. “Nothing of the sort. We simply don’t want to encourage any of the sisters to go wandering about outside when there is no need. The key is safe with me. If anyone needs to go out, they will get permission from me.”

Such a small detail, yet Elizabeth could immediately smell opportunity. She extended her palm. “Excellent. Give it to me.”

Prudence’s eyes went wide. “Reverend Mother?” asked, blinking, and mentally Elizabeth downgraded her opinion of the woman’s intelligence further.

“Reverend Mother,” Elizabeth repeated. “I do believe I recall something in my vows that told me that meant I lead, and you follow. Don’t you think such decisions would be best left to me, Sister?”

Prudence’s eyes were as wide as tea plates as she nodded. “Of course, Mother Sylvia, you are right. You are now in charge. Please, take it,” she said, pressing the key to the outside world into Elizabeth’s capable hands.

Ester took everyone to the meal hall while Prudence led Elizabeth up a creaking set of stairs to the second floor and showed her to her room – a hauntingly empty place with only a bed, a desk, and a Bible. In the process, Elizabeth took in the general layout of the convent. Most of the novitiate chambers, the kitchen, the sanctuary, and the dining room were all on the first level. The second was mostly chambers for the more veteran nuns, and since there weren’t too many of those here it was largely empty. Elizabeth assumed that was political – a good number of the women sent into this nunnery to vanish would eventually be summoned back by their family sometime down the road. In the meantime, she could use it to her advantage, and she made a mental note to find a reason to move the other nun’s rooms further away from hers.

At the end of the quick walk, Elizabeth stepped into the meal hall downstairs where everyone had been gathered. The total crop of nuns here, as it turned out, was twenty four – 16 novitiates, and 8 full sisters if you included “Mother Sylvia” in the count. Elizabeth looked over all of them, a little annoyed that the habits did such an efficient job of concealing what they looked like… but even so, she saw enough that she thought she was pleased.

Hand shaking as if she were being tortured, Prudence handed Elizabeth a folded piece of paper… the scrawled letter in question. She read it, and had to do her best not to laugh. Given how the nuns and the church seemed to dread the contents, she would have thought it would be downright pornographic. It was nothing of the sort – it was the kind of awkward, vaguely longing note a child might write. It really was nowhere near being worth the trouble that these prudish bitches made of it. Nevertheless, it made a good excuse for her introduction, and Elizabeth was grateful for that… and she could use it as a big enough of a disruption to the way things were that she could get her hooks into the minds of these stupid sluts and then pull until she’d turned them one and all inside out.

Frowning theatrically, Elizabeth lifted up the letter. “I will know who wrote this filth! Who was it?” The question was, of course, followed by silence. Obviously. If someone was going to so easily confess, they wouldn’t have called for someone to lead an Inquisition. “I see,” she said slowly, her eyes narrowing. “So it is the testimony of a convent full of supposedly pious women that this note materialized out of thin air?”

“I did not write it,” said Alana, her head lowered. “May God strike me down if I did.”

Prudence crossed herself. “Likewise. Please, Lord, bring me to my knees right now and send me into the depths if I wrote that!”

“Neither of us wrote it!” two novitiates that Elizabeth hadn’t met yet insisted. Both were redheads, some of their hair sticking out from beneath their headdress, but they still looked completely different – definitely not relatives, these two. The one Elizabeth would learn was called Christine had a haughty-looking face and clear green eyes, but the fullest and most erotic lips of the whole bunch. The other, Adeline, had grey doe-like eyes, a freckled face, and a somewhat dumb-looking expression permanently stapled to her face. True peasant stock. “Why would we write it?” Christine insisted matter-of-factly. “It’s disgusting, and besides, each of us shares a room with at least one other. If one of us needed to communicate in secret to the other, we could do so without incriminating ourselves.”

“You appear to have put much thought into how you would share your sinful desires,” Elizabeth said, struggling to keep a stern expression on her face instead of laughing at her own severity. This was just too funny. “Perhaps you wrote it precisely because you wanted it to be incriminating. Perhaps it was seeing these words written that excited you and led you into depravity. I mean to find out!”

Prudence nodded energetically. “Mother Sylvia is correct. We cannot discount anyone. Even I could have written it, for all I know.”

Soon enough, every single one of the nuns had sworn that they did not write the letter. Cecilia, Elizabeth noted, seemed very intensely interested in the proceeding. At first, Elizabeth wondered if she might have written the letter… but no, she didn’t seem the type. No, it was the desire to know who it had been… and the opportunity to punish them… that seemed to interest the other woman. Another fact to file away for later. “I see,” said Elizabeth, folding the letter back up. “Then it is as the bishop feared. The devil is at work here.” One by one, she cast her gaze across all of the assembled nuns, schooling her gaze into the most serious, stern expression she could. “There is a succubus working her evil here. One of you is a demon.”

Prudence gasped. “A succubus?” she gasped.

“That’s impossible,” Ester protested. Around her, the other nuns murmured their own shocked utterances.

“A convent isn’t hallowed ground…” Cecilia said slowly.

“And even if it were, the Devil is a trickster,” Elizabeth finished. Stepping into her role, Elizabeth steepled her hands and smiled thinly. “I believe this can even be explained by the location of this fine convent. It was built to keep away the distractions of the world and its temptations. To protect it from the corruption of the world outside. And yet, this makes it precisely the place such an infestation could fester if left unattended… It is like a sweet red cherry begging for his corruption. No wonder, then, that he might send one of his emissaries.”

Ester frowned. “So this letter… it was written by a demon?”

“No,” she said, nodding firmly. “That would only serve to reveal it, and that is not its purpose. Its role is to corrupt the women here. Drive them to seek their lustful pleasures between the legs of their sisters. One of you is a demon, and another of you has already been corrupted into sin.”

Prudence seemed close to tears. “No, Mother Superior, it can’t be! We love the Lord here.”

“Enough!” said Elizabeth, her tongue snapping like a whip. “At least two of you aren’t trustworthy, and I need to learn which. Until I know, not one of you is worthy of any trust. Until I know which of you is which, I will treat each of you with suspicion due to strangers, not sisters… a succubus inhabits these walls, and I must first make sure that each and every single one of you is telling the truth. That you are pure in spirit as well as in… body.” She savored the last word as she noticed every pair of eyes frozen on her face. “We will begin by searching for marks of the devil’s touch. I want you all to disrobe. Immediately.”

Ester shuddered at the thought. “Reverend Mother! That cannot be a real request…”

“It is not a request,” she insisted. “It is a command. I have been commanded to lead this inquisition, and I have been taught how to deal with a succubus. While it may offend our senses to think it would affect our flesh, that is precisely how it works. It leaves its markings on our bodies, on our mortal flesh.”

Despite the misgivings voiced by Ester, Prudence was already at it… she blushed furiously, but she was stripping her habit off obediently. Following her instructions, several of the novitiates did the same, including the two redheads. The others, seeing this show of obedience, slowly began to go along with it. Only a few still weren’t moving. “We cannot do this!” Ester protested. “It is sinful.”

Prudence sighed. “Ester, you must!”

“Else we must assume you are the one who has struck a deal with this succubus,” Cecilia said, a dark light in her eyes. “We would have to imprison you and force her influence out of you.”

“What nonsense!” Ester cried out. She looked around at the other women stripping, and sighed. “I will do this, but I do not approve of this… Reverend Mother.”

Elizabeth had to resist the urge to smirk. From her phrasing, it was difficult to tell if she disapproved of the request or if she disapproved of “Sylvia” herself. No doubt it was meant to be ambiguous. This nun was smarter than the others… smart enough to know that something smelled wrong about all of this. She was not, however, as smart as she thought – too used to being obedient to authority, too willing to follow. Slowly, she began to strip like the others.

Elizabeth took pleasure in watching the delightful sights before her and contrasted the bodies she was looking at with what she had imagined them to be like given their personalities. Prudence was lovely – she had a perfectly shaped mature body with full breasts and deliciously thick thighs. Cecilia, too, was not the hard-body that Elizabeth produced in her head, but extremely soft all over, with large and bulging breasts, big enough that Elizabeth could faintly see narrow blue veins beneath. Idly, Elizabeth wondered if it was Ester’s appearance that had added to her reluctance to undress, as her body was not quite up to the standards of beauty that the others matched, at least not traditionally – her breasts were much smaller, and she had broader, almost manly shoulders. Her body, however, was lovely – she was surprisingly fit for an older woman with toned legs and a muscular ass. She lowered her blue eyes as soon as she undressed and kept them lowered. One by one, the other nuns undressed, revealing bodies that varied between winsome and plain.

The novitiates, however, interested Elizabeth much more. Sixteen young women, all of them younger than 30 and most younger than 25, slowly stripped off their clothing, and most of them were absolutely to Elizabeth’s tastes. The two redheads might have differed in the face, but in the body Christine and Adeline were almost the spitting image of one another, with slender and perfectly-proportioned bodies. Tasteful and sublime, with freckles across their chests and down their arms.

One by one, she ran her gaze over all of them. There was a lot to like here. At last, her gaze arrived in judgment over Alana. Her body was petite and slender, gently curved, with just a soft swell of budding breasts and a round, if subdued, little ass. She was small for a grown woman… She must be so sensitive, Elizabeth thought. So easy to break…

She shook her head, dismissing the thoughts. Later. “Grab your habits,” she commanded. As Ester immediately went to put hers on, Elizabeth quickly continued, “No. Do not dress. Hold onto them and follow me.” Quietly, the barefoot nuns all padded after her back to the main door. Elizabeth unlocked it, stepped out, then waited for each one to exit one after the other, out into the midday air. The nuns had already been uncomfortable just undressing, but even though they were within the courtyard walls their discomfort seemed magnified being outside rather than in. Elizabeth gestured to the center of the cleared dirt. “Put your clothing in a pile.”

Apprehensively, the nuns did that as ordered. Ester and Mercy went last, and when they dropped onto the pile Elizabeth nodded. “Very good,” the false Sister Superior said. “Now. All of you are going to stay revealed to me. Each and every one of you is going to bear the truth of what you did on their skin… we burn these.”

“W-What?” Prudence gasped. “Bear the truth on our skin?”

“Precisely,” said Elizabeth with confidence, trusting that they would find the meaning in what she asserted. It was, she knew, never hard for the religious sheep to find meaning in crazy sounding things. Priests had taught her that long ago.

Ester frowned. “For what purpose? I do not understand.”

“If one of you mates with the devil, all will see the evidence of it,” Elizabeth said firmly. “If one of you displays attraction towards another, we will all see it. it will be obvious.” She gave a small, confident smile. “At least, it will be to me. I am trained to look for the signs… I will be keeping an eye out and testing each one of you individually to make sure you are not trying to hide your true feelings from your sisters. Prudence, go bring us some fire.”

As Prudence ran back into the building, Mercy stepped closer to the robes, showing signs of uncertainty. Elizabeth could see the goosebumps that had risen across her skin and her own cheeks flushed with… horror, Elizabeth thought. She was afraid, and angry, and aroused.

“Reverend Mother, please!” she begged, her face twisted in disgust. face stern, “This is disgusting!”

Prudence came back with a bounce in her step, her huge breasts swaying with every step, a torch burning in her grip. “Do I do it, Reverend Mother?”

“Sylvia” held up a hand to forestall her and looked directly into Mercy’s eyes. “And why is that?”

“This is wrong!” Mercy begged. “Going around naked and parading our sinful nakedness to one another will only increase the lust we feel to one another.”

Elizabeth cocked a brow and took a step closer towards Mercy. Sensing the threat, Mercy took an anxious step back. “Reverend Mother, I’m only-”

Elizabeth’s slap came out of nowhere. Her attack was sudden, vicious, and brutal as a striking snake, and it connected with Mercy’s face like a hammer. The novitiate dropped to the ground, one hand covering her stung face, looking startled. “Your concern reveals much, harlot. You suggest that we all feel a certain attraction to one another, Sister. You suggest that it is normal that two women, naked together, could only inspire lust. Yet that could not be more wrong. I look at your body and the body of each and every one of your sisters with disinterest and disgust.” She tilted her chin upward imperiously. “That is my nature. I have no interest in such things, as God intended for his righteous children.”

The others murmured in agreement. Even Ester did – while she clearly agreed with Mercy on the matter of not burning the clothing and not having to remain naked she still found herself immediately suspicious of the woman who was claiming they would feel arousal for one another. This couldn’t have been more perfect for Elizabeth if she planned it out herself. She had no idea if Mercy had been the one to write that letter or not, but using her as an immediate scapegoat gave her a wonderful set of options. “Why do you think you will be aroused is the question, sister,” Elizabeth asked. “Do you often feel this way about your holy sisters?”

“N-No…” Mercy mumbled, the harsh embers in her eyes dying down. “I wasn’t trying to suggest that, Reverend Mother. But I know that being naked is a sin! It is a bad t-thing that…” As she sought to explain herself, a chill wind blew from the north that caused her to shudder, falter, and eventually peter out. Mercy stared at Elizabeth, aware that she had misstepped severely.

Prudence happily put the robes to the flame and stepped back proud of herself. “It is done, Mother Superior.”

Elizabeth took another step towards Mercy. At this point, she towered over the skinny girl with imposing ferocity. Her curvy body was still covered by the habit, and she enjoyed the power of being fully dressed and covered while she stood over a naked and vulnerable woman, like a black shadow looming over the young nun. Mercy was rather skeletal – So thin that her hip bones and rib cage pushed out, begging for attention. Though such a body would not have been Elizabeth’s favorite normally, something about it belonging to a nun changed that. The idea of caressing those hip bones while feasting on a delicious meal she would deny Mercy turned her on. “The reason the Bible warns us of the dangers of nudity, Sister Mercy,” she said, her words hard and sharp, “is because the devil loves tempting the urges of men. He inspired them with lust for us. But you… you are a sister to me. More true a sister than my own blood. We are sisters in Christ… unless you have sided with the devil.”

Mercy swallowed, and Elizabeth glared down at her. “Does the sight of your sisters arouse you, trollop?”

“No Reverend Mother… please!” Mercy pleaded softly.

“Look at them!” Elizabeth yelled, interrupting her protests. “If you are tainted by this succubus, then tell us now!”

Mercy shook her head. “I was wrong. I see that now. Please, I am sorry. Sometimes I speak before I think.”

Elizabeth glanced at the other nuns. The young ones all were aghast at what was happening, cognizant that it might very well happen to them if they said the wrong word. As for the others, Prudence smiled vacantly and Ester seemed uncertain with herself. Cecilia, however, was almost ogling the begging Mercy, her hands clenching and unclenching. What is her game? There was at least one lesbian here, but this couldn’t have been merely that from Cecilia… in fact, she wasn’t sure she detected any hint of attraction in that gaze at all. What she detected was sadistic desire, a barely controlled bloodlust. “Sister Cecilia?” Elizabeth asked.

Cecilia turned her head as if broken from a spell. “Reverend Mother?”

“Sister, who is it who applies discipline around here?”

The flash in Cecilia’s eyes told Elizabeth everything she needed to know. “I have been known to discipline the wayward from time to time,” Cecilia said slowly. “The Reverend Mother Fela didn’t often find the need before she passed.”

“Well,” Elizabeth said with a nod, “now I do. Can I trust you to take sister Mercy to her room, and apply ten lashes to discipline her?”

At the sound of that, Mercy cried out. “No, no! Please, Reverend Mother, please!” she begged, reaching out to grab at the Sister Superior’s feet. “I didn’t understand, I-”

As soon as Mercy’s thin arms wrapped around her legs pleadingly, Elizabeth kicked her away. “Enough! I do not want to hear this pathetic begging. You should be glad for the scourging you’ll receive. That will lash the impurity out of you. Come, follow me and Sister Cecilia.” She nodded at the rest of the assembly. “The rest of you are dismissed. I expect you to go to your chambers, and empty out the rest of your clothing into the hallways outside your doors. Sister Prudence will be there to collect them shortly. Now move!

The naked nuns ran away hurriedly, no doubt ashamed of being naked outside even if there was no man present to look at them. The only exception was Prudence, who stuck by despite not being asked, somehow naturally assuming that she was now Elizabeth’s creature and that her presence was required near her mistress. Well, Elizabeth shouldn’t well punish the simpleton for being obedient, should she? Ironically, this rather saved her from Elizabeth’s potential wrath. One thing she had learned over the years was that punishing those who were too stupid to fear that punishment was no fun… and Prudence seemed to Elizabeth to be practically bovine in her simplicity, the kind of naturally submissive slave who would throw herself unquestioningly into the fire if asked to do so by a person with sufficient authority.

Elizabeth stopped by Cecilia’s room for her to grab a surprisingly heavy flogger from her desk before she led the three naked women to a large room with a desk upstairs that served as the study room. She stood by with Prudence at her side as Cecilia pushed Mercy over the desk by force, raised the knotted flogger, and began to lash her skinny ass immediately and without mercy.

“AAIEEEGH!” Mercy cried, over and over… her voice rising and falling to the rhythm of the whipping. The door had been purposefully left open to allow both the screams and the leather impact sounds and burrow themselves into the heads of every other nun in the convent. She wanted every single other woman here to be thinking about what they would get for crossing her.

As Elizabeth fantasized about her new dominance here, Prudence stared at her with wide-eyed affection. “You are so wise, Reverend Mother Sylvia. I don’t even think you are older than me, but you’re already so much smarter…”

The false Sylvia shot her a glare. “I take it you are testing me with this flattery, Sister?”

“N-No! Not at all!” Prudence cried out. “I am truly in awe of your leadership! Such decisive action…”

Elizabeth smiled thinly. “I can tell you are very loyal and eager to help, Sister Prudence. Though I would never say this in front of the others, it’s clear to me you are guiltless in this whole matter. Else you would hardly have brought it to the diocese’s attention… so I will be depending on your assistance and judgment. The succubus is here, somewhere… but first, we are going to need to find whomever she has corrupted.” She kept talking over Mercy’s screaming, even though it was hard for Elizabeth to not to bite her lip at the sound of such deliciously sweet excruciation. “Tell me, of your sisters, which one would you say has the weakest will?”

As she expected, Cecilia was a monster, and the way she punished poor Mercy’s skinny, barely existent ass with the leather was pure bliss to Elizabeth. The skinny nun’s lily white skin reddened like a ripe cherry. “Hold still!” Cecilia barked. She slammed Mercy back down when she tried to rise up instinctively. “You’ve got six more coming!”

Prudence frowned thoughtfully at Elizabeth. “The weakest willed sister?”

“You know,” Elizabeth said, giving her a secretive look. “The one… most likely to be corrupted by demons. Out of fear, or temptation.”

Prudence nodded, her eyes going wider and wider as if she had had some great epiphany. “Yes, yes, I understand! That would certainly be Alana!”

“Alana?” Elizabeth said, thinking of the angelic-looking woman with the petite build and innocent eyes. “Why is that?”

“Oh, she’s as scared as can be! Even of a mouse.” Prudence smiled. “Don’t tell anyone this, Mother Superior, but during her first days here I had to let her sleep still in my bed… The poor thing was so frightened and so homesick she couldn’t sleep alone! Apparently she always slept with her older sister at home.” Prudence straightened as if something had just occurred to her. “Oh, she’s a sweetheart, Reverend Mother. She’d never willingly cavort with demons, but she’s so scared and lonely one might be able to control her. She certainly wouldn’t mean it.”

“I see…” Yes, that did sound like the ideal place for Elizabeth to start. Easy and simple. The perfect kind of rest and relaxation after a hard day’s work… especially if Elizabeth was right about her initial thoughts when seeing the woman. “After this punishment is through, I will retire to my quarters. Then I want you to bring Alana to me. I will… minister… to her, and make a determination if a demon has tainted her immortal soul.”

Prudence bobbed her head, innocently eager. “Certainly, Holy Mother! I will!”

Elizabeth then turned her attention to Cecilia and the way she delivered the final lashes with the whip. She could tell from the way she would crane back her arm and caressed the leather that she enjoyed this. That she wanted more, something harder to use on Mercy. Something that could truly rip into the poor girl’s flesh. She had a sick mind, that one… and useful. They might even be partners for a time. At the very least, she would have to get the woman a real whip.

At the end of the lashing, Cecilia let the lash hang from her hand. “I have finished, Reverend Mother.”

“Very good, very good,” Elizabeth praised. “You have done well. And you may call me Mother Sylvia.”

As if sensing a blooming understanding between them, Cecilia gave a curt nod. “Yes, Mother Sylvia.” Then she was gone, heading out.

Shaking, Mercy slowly pushed herself back up. “Reverend Mother…” she whispered, her head lowered.

“I am finished with you. For now,” the false Sylvia instructed. “Go now to your room, throw out the rest of your clothing like a good little girl, and think of what you’ve done today. Tomorrow, you will prove to me that you will be better than you were today, and we will see what other corrections are necessary. Now go!

Terrified, Mercy all but ran for her life from the room, leaving Elizabeth to snicker. All too easy.

Striding confidently, Elizabeth retired to her rather unwelcoming chamber. She was eager to get out of the stuffy habit and took it off immediately, folding them up in the corner of the room. Then she ran a hand over her flat stomach, and shivers of arousal went through her at the thought of what was left to come.

A knock followed soon after. “Mother Superior! I am here with Alana!”

Elizabeth smiled. “Excellent. You may go, Sister Prudence – go about and collect all of the habits the sisters have thrown out, and put them into one of the unused rooms… then you may be finished for the evening. Sister Alana, come inside.”

Alana padded in quietly, looking as pure and innocent as an angel as she closed the door behind her. When she turned, she gasped as she was Elizabeth’s intimidatingly curvy, naked body sitting at the edge of her bed. “What’s the matter, Sister?” Elizabeth said with a wicked smile, allowing some of her truth to slip through the character she had been wearing.

Alana quickly lowered her head. “N-Nothing, Mother…”

“What, did you think I would leave you to feel like you were the only one naked and vulnerable, sister?” Elizabeth rose and circled around her with slow, predatory intent, allowing her eyes to travel across the subdued curves of Alana’s nubile body. “I’ve heard a disturbing fact, Alana. Sister Prudence told me that you sought her bed when you first came here.”

“No!” she protested, her voice trembling. “Well, I mean, y-yes, I did. But not because–”

Elizabeth’s hand quickly lashed out and struck the young novitiate on her perky butt. Alana yelped, shuddered, and practically hopped forward away from Elizabeth, losing her balance for a moment. Elizabeth folded her arms over her stomach calmly. “You will reply with ‘Yes, Mother,’ or ‘No, Mother,’ unless and until you are told otherwise. Do you understand me?”

“I…” she swallowed. “Yes, Mother!”

“Good!” Elizabeth said cheerily. “Resume your position, sweet sister.” She continued circling. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen, Reverend Mother…”

“Tell me, Alana,” she asked. “What do you think the punishment would be for trying to corrupt Prudence into being a dyke like you?”

Alana jumped, and Elizabeth thought it had less to do with the accusation than it did with the language. “I–” Alana stopped herself, aware that she was going down the wrong path.

As the sun dipped fully beyond the horizon, darkness fell like a deep and quieting blanket over the room. Elizabeth took time to savor Alana’s apprehensive fear. “I know what you are, Alana,” Elizabeth said coolly. “I can see the way you look at me. The way you looked at the other girls as they disrobed.” A slow smile spread across her face. “I know, little girl. I recognize what you are. And you are going to need to confess to it for me, Alana. I hope you understand that.”

The look of fear didn’t go away, but it was joined by one of dreaded acceptance. “Yes, Reverend Mother.”

Smiling, Elizabeth padded over to the bed and sat back down. “Come here, my child.”

Held still held down in abject submission, Alana came to the bed and then stood by the edge… and right before her eyes Elizabeth slowly spread her legs. Alana gasped, but her eyes fixated on the nexus between Elizabeth’s thighs. “Reverend Mother!? What do-”

Elizabeth lowered a hand down to her slick pussy lips. She fingered herself and noticed the visible interest in the young nun’s eyes. Then she spread her pussy apart with two fingers. “Is this what you want, sister?”

Alana quickly broke the spell and turned her head the other way, shaking it profusely. “No! I mean, No Reverend Mother! No, no, no!”

She was flushed. Breathing hard. Frightened and overwhelmed and… aroused. Her heart was hammering at her chest. Elizabeth was right… She was a lesbian. It seemed likely that the blonde angel might be in denial, but she was as gay as Elizabeth herself was. “You lie, sister,” she said, her voice low, sweet and honey, and smooth and silk.

“I… no, Reverend Mother! I know this is a test!” Alana said frantically. “I know you are testing me, Mother Superior. I swear, I do not feel this inclination! My heart is pure… I am Christ’s wife!”

Dear God, the idiot really did think this was a test. Annoyed, Elizabeth slid out of bed. It was time to make use of the toys she had brought stashed in her small bag. To begin with, she grabbed her favorite tool… a large, smooth false phallus and a harness that would allow her to wear it. It had served her as a trusty tool for years now, and she fastened it around her waist. Then she grabbed the same kind of whip that Cecilia was going to need.

The whole time, Alana had kept her head down and was softly, frantically praying. That annoyed Elizabeth. By the time she was finished, the only person that this stupid whore was going to be praying to was Elizabeth herself. To get her attention, Elizabeth cracked the whip against the ground, making the beautiful young blonde girl jump. “Down. On all fours!”

Alana’s eyes opened. The moment she saw the gruesome wooden cock protruding from Elizabeth’s groin, she shuddered and pulled back in genuine fright. “M-Mother…”

“I told you that you are going to be punished tonight…” Elizabeth recited slowly, allowing the whip to slither across the floor as she got closer. “Now, you are going to do as you’re told. And together, we will exorcize this demon’s influence out of you. It’s clear this succubus has affected you deeply.”

“No… No… I…” The words could barely leave her trembling lips.

“I told you how you were to answer. And you appear to have forgotten.” Elizabeth cracked the whip with a loud snap that echoed through the room. “On all fours, you filthy bitch! I won’t ask again. Do it!”

Jumping to obey, eyes wide and openly terrified now, Alana got on hand and knees without further hesitation, dropping so fast that her arms and legs banged uncomfortably hard against the stone. The pose, and its awkwardness, her daintily perfect ass and sweet pussy exposed. The ass appeared so puckered up and so tight that Elizabeth was pretty sure she could utterly destroy the girl with a single stroke into it right now, and it would be a travesty to ruin this new plaything so profoundly on their first encounter. She would have to leave that for later. Besides, her innocent pussy looked to be virginally sweet.

Slowly, Elizabeth sank down to her knees behind Alana. “Have you ever been with a man, Novitiate?” she asked

“No, Reverend Mother,” she breathed, gasping as she panted with her rising fear.

The dark-haired beauty licked her fingers, and slowly began rubbing them over the head of the polished wood hanging between her legs. “How about a woman? A girl?”

Alana shook her head, “N-No, Reverend Mother. I swear!”

“Oh, I believe you sweet thing,” she said with a small chuckle. “But you wanted to. And it’s time we changed that.” Elizabeth wasted no time. She placed the head of the carved wooden cock against the shivering young woman’s untouched pussy lips and thrust in. The head had barely entered at the point Alana shrieked and ran off. In the pandemonium that ensued, she fell off the bed and ran towards the door. In clear panic she grabbed at it, trying to open it with flailing, terrified hands.

Elizabeth was on her in a second. Her weight hit the small girl, smashing her against the wooden door… flatting her cheek against her as she pressed her breasts to Alana’s back. “How dare you act like a spoiled child?” Elizabeth spat. “You teasing little brat!”

Trembling, still struggling Alana whimpered against the door. returned, whispering, “Mother Superior, I can’t… I can’t!” She struggled against Elizabeth’s hands as the imposter gathered up her flailing limbs and pinning them behind her back, shoving her again even more violently against the door. She teared up, beginning to sob. “Ughh! It hurts! Mother Superior, please, it hurts!”

Elizabeth was no longer in the mood to even play the part of Sylvia. Instead, she pushed the blonde bitch down with all the violence she could, ramming her up against the door she was trying to escape through. “Stop being such a fucking crybaby,” she snapped. “Do you know what I’ve gone through? What other women go through every day? Stop your pathetic fucking whimpering!” The harsh words only caused more grief as Alana’s sobs turned into a mewling cry. Disgusted, Elizabeth grabbed the angelic girl’s blonde locks and shoved her face hard against the heavy door to muffle her insufferable crying.

Still, Elizabeth could not give up this preliminary lesson in punishment. She brought the wooden cockhead back to the tiny pussy, and this time held Alana down.

There was whimpering.

There was crying.

And then there was a scream as Elizabeth, who had spent years doing whatever was required to satisfy her desires, stabbed that worn wooden cock deep into Alana’s unwelcoming pussy. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up!” she snarled, shoving herself forward hard enough that it rocked the door in the frame… painfully stretching her victim out until it was more than halfway inside her. Then, shoving so hard on the blonde’s head that it probably felt to her like her skull was going to crack, Elizabeth raised her hips and slammed down with all her strength and weight to brutally drive the false cock all the way through.

Alana’s virginity broke without putting up much of a fight to her aggressive dominator, just letting out a ragged, horrible scream. The beautiful young girl’s body wriggled underneath her, trying to escape, but she was too small, too slender, too weak. She slid down the door, sobbing, and Elizabeth allowed herself to follow the blonde down, her large breasts coming down over the back of Alana’s head, practically smothering her with them like they were a great pillow. “Shhh, now…” she whispered tenderly, allowing just a hint of malice in her voice. “You shouldn’t even be crying, my little sweet thing. This is the smallest toy I’ve got. I only had time to bring this one with me, but just you wait until I get my hands on the rest. Wait till you have a spiked, steel cock ramming through you like this. You’ll bleed for me then, inside and out.”

She began thrusting forward and back, slowly pummeling the weeping girl’s young pussy. In a month from now, she won’t shed a single tear. Oh, Alana… Elizabeth was going to train her so well. Break in the pretty little angel. The domineering conwoman could feel herself getting aroused… She reached down and massaged her sensitive pussy lips, moaning in ecstasy while she continued to ride the beautiful, suffering woman beneath her. “P-Please,” Alana begged. Her voice was muffled and barely audible. “Please, Mother! I’m sorry! Aahh! Stop hurting me please! Pleaheheeeaseee!”

“Hush now,” she growled, never slowing down. “You need to take this… accept your punishment. We’re only getting started.” Feeling the energy coursing through her darkly erotic body, Elizabeth gripped the blonde by the throat and slammed into her again, pulverizing the young pussy into tenderized meat. “Only the beginning…”

As the moon shone through the windows in the sky Elizabeth went on raping the young nun, stealing her virginity in the darkness, robbing her of any innocence there ever was in her. “You stupid sisters. You want to talk to me about sin? You think you’re a sinner for preferring the touch of the fairer sex? You’re a fool.” Elizabeth sneered down at her as she continued to pump. “You know, Alana… I wish that I could say that liking women was a surprise for me, that I fought so hard to be normal… but the truth is I knew I liked girls before I knew what sex was, and far before anyone could have told me that the “good lord” said it was wrong. By the time anyone told me, I already understood it was bullshit, and was… disinclined… to change my mind to please my elders.” She shoved the barely functioning Alana down, continuing to choke her as she pumped into her. “And I resent you being such a coward to lie about what you are!”

The stars rose in the sky, and the false sister continued to dominate her, owning her… and by the time she got tired of doing all the work, Alana wasn’t making any sound any more… just sobbing silently as her cunt was stretched. As Elizabeth pulled away, she undid the straps that held her wooden phallus on and let it stop heavily to the floor as she looked at the barely-moving girl on the stone beneath her. The false sister had initially worried that she might have suffocated the pretty little idiot, but as she turned Alana around the nun’s eyes were wide open and flicking around in terror as if she had seen Satan himself, and her lips moved weakly over and over without making a sound. The tears had covered her face, dried, and then had fresh paths blazed in the dirt and dust by fresh ones.

“Shhh,” Elizabeth said, letting her index finger caress the trembling lips, and watching the blonde girl’s eyes focus on her. Desperate. Needy. Longing for any safe harbor against the storm to the point that even the mercy of the pain stopping seemed like salvation to the confused and devastated nun. “You’re a good girl, Alana. You just have a little more work to do before the night is over.” Using her finger as an aide, Elizabeth forced the girl’s mouth open and then pulled her tongue out. “Keep it like this,” she ordered.

Then, with her body all but vibrating with how she shivered in arousal, Elizabeth straddled the young nun and climbed up until she could finally lower her soaking wet pussy down to the innocent eighteen-year-old tongue. The first touch, the first caress of that hot, soft tongue, and she almost gasped in the release that she had been waiting for… taking what she wanted from the girl she owned, and she pressed herself down harder.

This time, she was pleased to see that Alana didn’t need to be instructed. The nun’s tongue moved, pushing its way into Elizabeth’s pussy on its own volition and began to lick up and down, lapping against her lips and clit as a loving lesbian would… or her little dyke fucktoy. Elizabeth tossed her head back, her black locks glistening in the moonlight. “Mmmm. Exactly. Just like that. Just like that you little angel. Now faster… really dig that tongue in!”

Alana was being very obedient, following every instruction. Her tender blue eyes were focused on Elizabeth, looking up at her from the small bulge around her groin… softly crying. The look in her eyes, though… that was what turned Elizabeth on the most. It wasn’t just fear. Wasn’t just a horrified expression. It was also one of… reverence. Of worship. The look was not just one of fear, but of reverence… worship…

Good.

Elizabeth ran her hand through the pale blonde hair of her victim. “I own you, angel. From this day forward, I own you, you little dyke brat. Do you understand me?”

Alana nodded silently, inserting her tongue deeper into Elizabeth.

“Oh, oh… Fuck, yes, like that… Mmm. That’s a clever girl. Learning your place so quickly…” Realizing that she could not give up the role of Sylvia completely until she was sure that Alana was far too deep in her grasp to ever worm her way free, Elizabeth continued. “Know that you do not understand the ways of the Church… and I do. My word is golden, and yours… you are nothing but an unwanted, unloved little lesbian nun. And in the end, I will make you holy again, sister…”

Alana appeared to half listen, but her focus seemed to remain on eating pussy… as it should. Elizabeth was herself close to climax and began to grind back and forth over the soft tongue. As she got close to coming, she rubbed her clit with one hand and twisted one of her nipples with the other. The grinding intensified until she could no longer hold herself tied to the tongue, but moved the slick pussy back and forth over Alana’s entire face, coating them in her hot juices. “Fuuuck!”

When the release hit, it was so powerful that it robbed her of balance… sending her tumbling backward. Elizabeth grabbed both her breasts, squeezing them hard as her thighs rubbed together. Yes, yes, yes, yes… “Ahhhhh…” Elizabeth rode out the sensations that she had been waiting for, thrilling in this first step of her new victory. The feeling, this need, was so intense that she wasn’t sure how much time elapsed. When she next raised her head, Alana had curled up into a ball, her cheek brushing against the false cock still stained with her virgin blood.

“Get up,” Elizabeth commanded. “No time to whine.”

Alana blinked, her eyes opening as she looked up. “R-Reverend Mother?”

Elizabeth licked her lips and smiled. That the little bitch still called her that after everything was a good sign. “You’ve done well, Sister Alana. I hope you learned something tonight.” The dark-haired beauty glared at her suddenly, taking a fistful of her hair in her hand and tugging her head up. “You will not mention a word of this to your sisters, do you understand?” She hissed, her voice commanding. “If you say a single word I will make sure everyone knows you are a demon-tainted slut. We must keep working and we will-” Elizabeth could barely suppress the laugh, “-suppress this succubus together.”

Alana stared, blinking… confused. “Yes, Reverend Mother…”

Elizabeth wasn’t sure if Alana actually believed anything about who she was or in the methods she professed to be of a religious character, or if she was simply so happy to be recognized for what she was and so submissively dedicated to the woman who dominated her that she simply wouldn’t go against her. In reality, it didn’t matter – soon, there would be no difference.

“Into the bed,” Elizabeth commanded. “You will sleep here tonight.”

Alana moved only very slowly, but her pained crawling was surprisingly sensual to Elizabeth as she climbed into the bed. “Yes, Reverend Mother…” she whispered.

“Good girl,” Elizabeth said, laying down in the bed with a sigh and putting a hand behind her head, pulling her head against her breasts. The stupid young lesbian nun rested against them, settling in, and then began to cry. Allowing herself a small smile, Elizabeth closed her eyes and settled down on the uncomfortable bed, already making a note to get herself a better one. That would be down the line, though. Tomorrow… tomorrow, her work was going to begin in earnest.

Amen.


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