Ch 04 "I have been a naughty girl"
Part 1
Sister Mary's sap was fully risen, her years of reluctant celibacy had drawn to a close and she had no plans to return. Her gentle, exploratory touches of Jennifer and Marilyn during the Mass were still fresh in her mind and her clandestine liaison with Christine and Vincent in the shower had taken her to places she had never imagined.
Mary was still technically a virgin, her oral ministrations upon Vincent's warm, tumescent cock were quite delicious...In the past, her thoughts had never dwelt for long on the contents of men's britches, her life's observations and experience of them as a species had left her jaundiced and disdainful. However, watching that lovely cock sliding smoothly in and out of Christine's smooth, pink slit had aroused a nagging twitch between her thighs and no man was better equipped to soothe it.
Mary had harboured a fondness for the fairer sex since leaving school for convent life, although she had never really done anything about it until recently. She alleviated her basic instincts in rare moments of indulgence and morally defended it on the scales of human justice with the work she carried out amongst the stricken and unfortunate. She did have a convent dalliance with an older Brazilian sister, who, to her great disappointment was outposted to a Bangladeshi refugee camp a month later and despite her attempts, she had lost touch and hadn't seen her since.
Genuinely committed to her vocation in every other respect, her 2 year sabbatical in the orphanages of West Africa had earned her great respect and admiration from her peers. Since her arrival at St. Martin's, she had displayed particular skill and compassion in comforting the local parishioners in their sickbeds. Many schools, hospices and care homes had come to rely on her wisdom and her calming and selfless aura.
Mary however, had now tasted the ambrosia of sex and in a way, she felt that she deserved it. She only had to justify herself to her God and deep inside she was confident that he would accept her reasons - He had created her and her conscience and had also accepted her vocation. Little did she know, but Father Vincent was currently justifying precisely the same sentiments to himself.
All four women had become victims of their own success to some extent. The priest had certainly impressed them all in one way or another with his physical presence and his undeniably impressive manhood.
Vincent did have the Achille's heel of their passive blackmail which fell squarely in the girl's favour....he was absolutely glued to them now by virtue of this imagined threat. They could essentially do as they pleased to him within the confines of the church grounds...which protected them all to some extent.
Both Vincent and Mary knew intimately the minutae of this hallowed place...the whereabouts of each inhabitant, their movements, habits, strengths and weaknesses...it would work to both of their advantage...in Mary's case to exploit her ambiguous leanings towards the priest and her chambermaid Christine... and in Vincent's case, somewhere to hide to escape the attention of his tormentors...the sacred altar and pulpit where even the boldest nymphomaniac daren't trespass and the confessional...who would have the courage to molest him in there?
The church by definition was a very private place outwith the normal solemn services and although the doors were never closed, it was very rare for a member of the public to even enter the gates.
Vincent had been caught unawares on two occasions and was defensively keeping a very low profile, feigning migraine and backache which he imagined would protect him from the predatory girls.
He was under no illusions...they had awakened dormant urges in his loins which he struggled to quash, they had also put him in an extremely vulnerable place in respect of his role as a priest in this or any other parish...he had to find a balance until his novelty value wore off and things coulld return to normal, he found it impossible to be angry at anyone and actually blamed himself the most for his own weakness in dealing with it professionally...but he was on a hiding to nothing....A devout Carmelite Nun and her reluctant immigrant assistant and two apparent "pinkies" ....who would believe him?
Marilyn and Jennifer couldn't shake Father Vincent from their mind...although they were truly very fond of him and had no wish to hurt him, he had become their sexual focus and they discussed their seduction of him quite freely. The encounter had drawn the girls even closer together than they would have imagined and whenever the opportunity arose, they used it as a springboard to fall into each other's embrace...he had become a catalyst for their own erotic interludes.
Their birth of sexual awareness, like most girls, had been at school, using boys to heighten their exhibitionist arousal. It never went any further, in fact both girls remained virgo intacto until devoured by marriage.
During their last year at school, when Marilyn was head girl, the girls had progressed into minor role-playing, preferring it to the complications and compromises ensuing from liaisons with boys.
As 18 year olds, preparing for University, they spent hours at home in each other's company listening to music, planning their careers and discussing every topic under the sun. It seemed perfectly natural for Marilyn to slip into the role of naughty girl, with the slightly more serious Jennifer assuming the position of teacher. Marilyn even dressed for the occasion in her school uniform to enhance the experience.
The naughty little sessions would invariably run out of control and the language become more ripe and lusty, as they discussed their plump buttocks, firm breasts and slippery slits. They would begin with giggles and tickles, but rapidly progress to the more seductive.
Completely aroused and with heaving bosom, Marilyn would breathlessly pant "Are you going to pull my knickers down, Miss? "
"You have been a naughty girl, I am going to have to spank you"
Jennifer would pull her across her lap, carefully positioning her until their mounds were pressed together. Slowly and steadily she would raise Marilyn's skirt, exposing her thighs and the pale blue school knickers covering her tightly muscled rump. Minutes would invariably pass as they both savoured the moment and quivered in anticipation. Jennifer adored Marilyn's bottom and before delivering a slap, she would gaze at it and run her fingers over it, heightening Marilyn's arousal until they could bear it no longer.
The spankings were fairly gentle affairs, barely reddening the cheeks. The purpose was arousal rather than fulfillment and the girlish, staccato conversation steered their actions towards the inevitable juicing of their peaches.
"Oooh miss, my bottom is stinging, it must be turning red by now"
Jennifer would wriggle the knickers down to her thighs
"Yes, you naughty girl, your bottom is very pink now, perhaps this will teach you a lesson for the future"
The slow and gentle slaps would continue, punctuated by gasps and mewings from both, until they felt the ooze of oily syrup from their bursting little quims. Invariably the language becoming riper and more rude. The girls loved to talk dirty, it just excited them all the more.
