THE MYSTERIES OF A CONVENT
When I returned home I found my father as gloomy and austere as ever.
He welcomed me with a cold kiss and asked me a few questions as to the
progress I had made in my studies. My replies did not appear to satisfy
him and I had not been home a week before he declared his intention to
send me to school again. I was by no means sorry to hear of this
resolve, for my brother was finishing his education in New York, and
the house was insufferably dull. I was at once dispatched to Mount de
Sales, a convent near Baltimore. The inmates of the convent consisted
of pupils and nuns--the latter acting as instructresses to the former,
assisted by two or three priests.
I had been in the convent a year when we received a new pupil named
Margaret Maitland, the daughter of a distinguished lawyer, residing in
Baltimore. Margaret was a beautiful girl about my own age. She was
rather tall, her eyes and hair were black, while her skin was of a
whiteness ravishing to behold.
She was exceedingly religious and spent a great portion of her time in
prayer, fasting and vigils. I noticed that she confessed to a Father
Clark very frequently and always appeared very happy and contented when
she left the confessional. I felt satisfied that there was something
going on which partook more of the flesh than the spirit, and I
determined to watch.
Father Clark's apartment was situated at the eastern extremity of the
convent. It contained a large closet, and one day I concealed myself in
it at the time I knew his penitent would visit him. I had been there
but a few minutes before the priest entered. He was about forty years
of age, stoutly built and rather handsome. He did not wait long before
Margaret made her appearance. She looked positively beautiful. Her eyes
sparkled, her cheeks were flushed, and her bosom rose and fell, showing
that she was laboring under some excitement. To my extreme surprise,
the moment she entered the room she ran up to Father Clark, and
throwing her white arms round his neck kissed him passionately on the
lips. He returned her embraces and drew her on his knee. This sight was
entirely novel to me, and my cheeks burned while my eyes almost started
from their sockets watching what would be their next proceeding. I had
not long to wait, for I saw the priest's officious fingers unbutton
Margaret's dress in front and deliberately pull it off her ivory
shoulders, thus exposing two globes of snow, round, firm, exquisitely
formed, and surmounted by two strawberry nipples, which stood out
stiff. He pressed and kissed her breasts, absolutely burying his manly
face between the soft cushions. He was, however, soon not satisfied
with this, but canting her slightly up in his lap, he put his hand up
her clothes, and invaded the most secret recesses of her body. This
action raised her petticoats in such a manner that it exposed, to my
gaze, one of her ivory thighs, which was large, well developed and
beautifully rounded. I could see that he was moving his hand rapidly
while Margaret seemed on the point of dying with delight. After amusing
himself a short time in this manner, he suddenly desisted and, slipping
her off his lap, placed her on her hands and knees on the floor. He
then went to a cupboard and took from it a bunch of rods. Margaret
remained in the position which he had placed her without making the
slightest movement. Father Clark now walked up to her and, raising her
petticoats, threw them over her head, thus exposing, in a moment, all
her hidden charms to my excited eyes. It was a delicious sight,
sufficient to have seduced the most rigid anchorite. I could see
Margaret's white buttocks, admirably formed, her two beautiful thighs,
and exquisitely formed legs; all was naked from her waist down.
Situated at the lower portion of her white bottom, between her lovely
thighs, I could discern the pouting lips of her bijou, with a line of
coral marking the spot where they met.
Father Clark raised the rod and brought it down gently on her broad,
white buttocks--their hue was immediately changed to a blushing red,
while Margaret twisted and turned under the flagellation, every
movement revealing more of her exquisite Mon Veneris. While the priest
plied the rod, he appeared to be experiencing the most delicious
sensations. Margaret's bottom was soon as red as a cherry, but she did
not appear to mind the flogging which she was receiving the least bit.
When the priest had continued this exercise a few minutes, he threw
down the rod, and kneeling on the ground behind her, he unbuttoned his
pantaloons, and out leaped his staff of love, stiff, firm and with its
ruby head uncovered. He nestled it for a moment between her buttocks,
and then gently driving the vermilion lips of her coral sheath with his
fingers, he brought his instrument to bear on the luscious opening, and
seizing her by the hips, in another moment he was plunged to the very
hilt in her beautiful body. When Margaret felt that the conjunction was
complete she uttered a faint exclamation of joy and wiggled her
buttocks from side to side as if to prevent her prisoner from escaping
her. The priest now began to move himself in and out of her--and as he
did so, I could distinctly see his staff appear and disappear in its
warm nest. Every time he withdrew, her vagina clasped his instrument so
tightly that he drew out the interior lips, and each time that he
plunged it into her palpitating body, they were carried in with it. You
can imagine my sensations, dear reader, when I saw all this. I
instinctively raised my clothes and carried my hand to my own
moss-covered retreat, and forcing a finger between the lips, I found it
tightly grasped by my vagina, and I imitated all their motions,
thrusting it in and out, my eyes being all the time fixed on the
amorous couple. The priest was evidently in the seventh heaven of
enjoyment, his hands wandered from one beauty to another as if at a
loss to know which to take possession of. At one moment it would be her
snowy globes which still remained uncovered; at another it would be her
white belly, and then again it was the top of her Mount of Venus.
Suddenly his motions grew quicker, his staff entered in and out of the
coral retreat so rapidly that I could no longer detect the motion. The
crisis came, and with a smothered exclamation of joy they both
discharged. At the same moment the exciting scene I had witnessed drew
from me my tribute to the god of sexual desire.
I cultivated Margaret's friendship after this, and when I was intimate
enough with her I told her all I had seen. She blushed at first, but
when she saw that I could be discreet, she confessed the whole truth to
me. I found her an able instructress, and was soon even more perfectly
_au fait_ in all the mysteries of love, except the actual experience of
sexual intercourse with the other sex. She made me a witness of many
scenes between herself and Father Clark, and I soon found they were
both perfectly adept in the art of procuring sexual enjoyment.
One day I discovered further evidence of the great morality pervading
in Mount de Sales. The Lady Abbess was a handsome, fine-looking woman
of about forty years of age. She was very strict with all the boarders
of the convent, except with two sisters named Emily and Fannie Dawson.
These two girls were her pets and were always with her. They were both
beautiful girls, with flashing dark eyes and beautiful complexions. On
the day I refer to, Margaret Maitland came to me and whispered in my
ear that if I would come with her she would show me a pretty sight. I
followed and she led me to the Lady Abbess's room and told me to peep
through the keyhole. I did so and saw a very strange scene which I will
endeavor to describe to you.
Seated on a low chair near a large sofa was Father Price. His
pantaloons were down and the lower portion of his body all uncovered;
his instrument of love stood stiff and erect. Seated sideways towards
him on the sofa I have just referred to, was the Lady Abbess. Her dress
was off her shoulders, revealing her well-developed bust. The lower
portion of her body was entirely naked; one of her feet rested on an
ottoman, the other on the ground; by this means one of her thighs was
elevated. Father Price had one finger in her lustful slit, while she
had grasped his staff in her hand. He was slowly pushing his finger in
and out of her warm nest, and every now and then kissing her broad
white buttocks which were entirely at his command. But this was not
all; Emily and Fannie Dawson were also there, acting their parts. Emily
stood on the sofa with her petticoats raised above her naval, thus
revealing her delicious thighs, her white belly and the moss-covered
domain of Venus. She was exquisitely made. The Lady Abbess was
titillating her clitoris with her unoccupied hand, while Emily's
excited face, the tip of her tongue slightly protruding from her coral
lips and the heaves of her alabaster buttocks rising to meet the
Abbess's deflowering finger, sufficiently showed the intense delights
she was enjoying. Fannie was at the other end of the sofa. She had her
back turned towards Father Price; she knelt on the sofa with one knee,
while the other leg rested on the ground; her skirts were thrown over
her head, and her head was buried in the sofa, thus elevating her white
bottom in the air. Between her ivory thighs we could see the panting
lips of her luscious bijou. She was rubbing the top of her slit with
one finger, and by the quivering of her buttocks, I guessed she was
enjoying herself to her heart's content.
Margaret and I watched all their proceedings. Their motion soon grew
fast and furious, and we were both so excited by what we saw that we
instinctively raised each other's petticoats and imitated their actions
on each other. I forced a finger in Margaret's lovely grotto, and at
the same time felt her finger caressing my clitoris. I opened my thighs
to the widest possible extent to admit her manipulation more readily
and she did the same. It was a delicious sensation, feeling her
delicate finger force its way into my warm vagina. We kept time with
the actors in the next room, and at the very moment that I saw the
sperm go from Father Price's instrument to the broad, white buttocks of
the Abbess, both Margaret and myself emitted, and the Abbess and the
two sisters were not a moment behind. We then ran to our dormitories
for fear of being discovered.
A few weeks after this occurrence my father took me away from the
convent and I returned home. Here my time passed monotonously enough,
and I wished myself back to Mount de Sales a hundred times. But an
event happened which more than reconciled me to my change of life. This
was nothing less than a visit from Harry Duval, a cousin who resided in
Baltimore.
Harry was a fine, handsome young fellow, about twenty-two years of age.
The moment I saw him, I felt irresistibly attracted towards him. But I
disguised my admiration with all the hypocrisy common to young girls.
One day we were out walking together in the beautiful grounds
surrounding my father's house. The weather was deliciously warm and the
birds filled the air with their melodies. I was clad very lightly,
wearing a low-necked dress with a light scarf thrown over my shoulders.
We wandered for some distance, conversing on everyday topics, when my
cousin proposed that we should rest ourselves on the grass under the
shade of a fine, large elm tree; I consented and we sat down. Harry
took my hand in his and kissed it. I blushed at this familiarity but
did not withdraw it from his grasp. By degrees he grew more
enterprising, and drawing me towards him, imprinted a kiss on my lips.
I now made an effort to withdraw myself from his grasp but he held me
tightly.
"Dear Kate," said he, "I love you with all my heart and soul."
"Oh Harry," I replied, "you have said that to hundreds of others."
"Pray, darling--it is you alone that possesses my heart. I swear I love
none but you."
So saying, he imprinted fresh kisses on my lips in spite of the
resistance I made. To tell the truth, my resistance was getting weaker
and weaker, for I felt a delicious feeling run through my body such as
I had never experienced before. He grew bolder and almost devoured me
with kisses. In our struggle the light scarf which I wore on my
shoulders became displaced and my neck and the upper portion of my bust
were bare. The sight of my white shoulders appeared to electrify Harry,
for he immediately brought his lips to bear upon them, and caressed and
patted them with his hand. He did not stop here, however. My dress was
rather loose in front and he had the audacity to invade the secrets of
my bosom. The pressure he made caused some of the buttons to give away
behind and my frock fell completely off my shoulders, revealing to his
gaze my two "orbs of snow," as he called them. He immediately took
possession of them and molded and pressed them with his hands, at the
same time gently titillating the strawberry nipples which, under his
lascivious touches, stood out stiff. I was now completely on fire and
no longer opposed him. To tell the truth, I was as anxious as he to
experience the acme of love. Harry kissed and caressed my bubbies for
some minutes, and while thus engaged, one of his hands was furtively
raising my petticoats. At last I felt one of his hands on my naked
thigh--a shiver of desire ran through my frame. He cautiously ascended
the snowy columns, and in a moment or two I felt an impudent finger in
the outskirts of the domain of Venus. I instinctively lifted up my
thighs in order to facilitate his curious researches, and soon
experienced the most delicious sensations, for his finger had already
divided the lips which formed the entrance of my moss-covered retreat.
He gently pushed it forward until it was clasped tightly by the warm
sides of my vagina. While he was acting in this manner he kissed me
repeatedly on the lips and breast, only pausing to suck the rosy
nipples which surmounted the two semiglobes. Although he addressed
every term of endearment to me, I was too much excited to make any
reply. For in a few moments he continued his delicious play,
titillating the interior of my Mons Veneris, while he caressed my
clitoris with his thumb, sending a lava of delight through my frame. In
spite of all my endeavors not to appear too lascivious, I could not
help moving my buttocks in response to his soul inspiring touches--I
felt the crisis approaching. At that moment I saw him tear open the
front of his pantaloons and out jumped his member, as stiff as an iron
bar. With his unoccupied hand he seized mine and bore it down on the
menacing object. I seized it in my grasp and began to imitate his
motions. This was more than Harry could bear, for I had scarcely made
half a dozen movements when my cousin, frantically seizing me around
the waist, stretched my length on the green sward. In one moment he was
between my thighs, which I am willing to confess were opened wide
enough to receive him, and in another moment his instrument had
penetrated the lips of my most secret charms, and was imbedded to the
very hilt in my body. Oh God! the ecstasy I felt when the conjunction
was complete I can never describe. He reposed for a moment or two in
this condition and then began to gently heave his buttocks. I responded
with a corresponding motion and no tongue can tell the delights I
enjoyed as his delicious staff rushed in and out of the sheath destined
by nature to receive it.
"Oh, Harry," I exclaimed, "this is too much--I am suffocating with
pleasure--darling, dar-dar--"
The crisis came; a flood of rapture escaped from me while I felt his
copious discharge lubricate the very mouth of my womb. I absolutely
fainted with pleasure.
When I recovered my senses I found that Harry was drying me with his
pocket handkerchief. This done, he stooped and imprinted a kiss on the
sheath of his joys, and then assisted me to rise. We then returned to
the house fully satisfied with our delightful experiences.
"Darling Kate," said he, as we reached the door, "leave the door of
your bed chamber open tonight."
I pressed his hand as a sign of affirmation and we separated. You can
easily imagine, dear reader, how anxiously I waited for night. My
bedroom was far removed from any other occupied part of the house, and
I had no fear that we should be interrupted. At last the hour for
retiring came, and I took up my candle and went to my chamber. I did
not undress myself, but sat on the beside anxiously awaiting my
cousin's coming. I had been there about a quarter of an hour when I
heard his footsteps, and in another moment he was by my side. He rushed
to me, kissed my lips and then, with trembling fingers, bared my
breasts, which he covered with kisses. He then absolutely tore off my
clothes, not even sparing my chemise, and I stood before him as naked
as I was born. In a few seconds he was in the same situation and I saw
for the second time in my life his splendid member, so stiff and firm
that its ruby head nearly reached his navel. All my modesty disappeared
as if by magic, and I removed my hands which I had instinctively placed
over my center of attraction and, rushing towards him, seized his
burning rod in my grasp. I capped and uncapped the fiery head and
played with the purse containing the two witnesses to virility. My
cousin's eyes shot fire and he began to move his buttocks in reply to
my touches. He placed his hands on my bottom and pressed me close to
him, and I could feel his staff of love pressing against my white
belly. In another moment he had thrown me on my back on the bed, and
then set about examining the charms of my person at his ease. His first
proceeding was to open my thighs to the widest extent, thus exposing to
his gaze and touches the whole of love's domain. He played with the
hair covering the hillock of Venus; he divided the lips with his finger
and, seeking my clitoris, almost sent me crazy with pleasure by gently
rubbing it. He then turned me over on my belly and patted the cheeks of
my buttocks, which he swore were whiter than driven snow. He titillated
both my clitoris and bottom at the same time, but noticing by my
convulsive movements that I was on the eve of spending, he suddenly
desisted. Restoring me to my former position on my back, and throwing
himself on top of me, he inserted his staff of love into the pouting
lips of my moss-covered slit. No sooner had I felt the delicious morsel
pierce me to the quick than I passed one of my arms round his neck and
pressed him convulsively to my bosom. I then clasped his loins with my
thighs and legs and strained myself so closely to him that the very
hair of our genitals intermingled. A large mirror hung beside the bed
and I could see our forms reflected in it. I could see his instrument
imbedded to the very hilt in my Mons Veneris, the tips of which clasped
it tightly. He now commenced to work his plump buttocks up and down. I
replied by a corresponding motion and we kept time admirably together.
The thrilling rapture, the delicious sensations of that ecstatic period
is out of my power to describe. When I felt his hot pego rushing in and
out of my sensitive vagina, I squirmed and wriggled under his fierce
thrusts, and I thought my breath would leave my body. At last the
dissolving period approached. I could tell it was coming on by his more
rapid thrusts, by his half-drawn sighs, by his interrupted breathing,
and more especially, by a peculiar suction which my vagina exercised on
his rod. I spurred his bottom with my heels, I pressed him to me, I bit
him in the agony of my delight, and just as I was discharging, I passed
my hand underneath his thigh and tickled his testicles.
"I am coming, darling Kate," he exclaimed. "Oh God, I come, I co-!"
"I too, Harry," I exclaimed, "there, there! there!"
He made two more vigorous thrusts to which I responded with such vigor
that it made his testicles butt against my bottom, and the next moment
we were both dissolved in bliss.
He then withdrew from me and lay down by my side. A delightful
conversation followed in which he told me how much he loved me and how
faithful he would always be to me. While we were thus conversing I had
hold of his instrument while he was playing with my center of love. In
a short time I felt his staff swelling beneath my grasp, and it was
soon in a state of princely erection again. We again resumed the rites
of Venus.
This time he stretched himself all his length on his back and drew me
on top of him. He clasped me around the waist, while I myself guided
his dart into my bower, which was burning to receive it. He then
insisted that I should pump up his spermatic treasures myself while he
would remain perfectly passive. I was quite agreeable, and began an
up-and-down motion. My vagina fitted his pego like a glove, and I had
not played horsewoman a dozen times before I felt his boiling sperm
inundate my womb, while I also poured down my share of love's elixer in
such profusion that it wetted both thighs and belly.
I shall not detain the reader by detailing how many times we sacrificed
ourselves to the shrine of Venus that night, nor shall I depict all the
postures and modes we persued, as I have many similar scenes to depict;
suffice it to say that when we got up the next morning we were both
thoroughly exhausted, and pale and feeble from our unwonted exertions.
For six weeks I enjoyed sexual delights in every possible form--not a
day passing without at least one experience of my cousin's
capabilities. At the end of that time he was compelled to return home.
He left me with the most ardent protestations of love and devotion, and
took an oath that he would marry none but me. I had such a confidence
in him that I firmly believed his word.