Sister Amelia
Part 1
Everyone has pivotal moments where a decision taken irrevocably changes the course of one’s life, often these can only be identified with the benefit of hindsight but, Martha was in no doubt that such a moment had come. She sat alone in the long room, the interview panel of four nuns and a priest had finished their searching questions and had retired to the ante room to decide her fate.
She had written many months before offering herself for a life of purity and devotion, and as they sought to establish she was serious she had supplied gradually more and more references from her own priest, school teachers even her own parents who wished her to have a rich and full life, get married have kids, and more important, look after them in their old age in the small town nestling in the mountains of Nebraska.
Martha was surprised at the beauty of the downtown offices, a glass and steel building maybe ten years old, no ostentatious luxury but everything he highest quality, Marble floors and pillars, beautifully carved chairs and tables, everything polished to a deep lustre, and the paintings hung around the walls, the last supper, palm sunday, not old masters but beautifully done, in beautiful hand carved frames, only the bestseemed good enough here.
The door opened and she stood up as she thought she ought.
The Priest returned, holding the file containing her papers, he smiled a friendly smile
“We have doubts, Martha, but we will give you the benefit of that doubt, so If you agree, we welcome you to our order.”
Martha was puzzled “Agree”
“Yes my dear, we feel a trial period, is in order, if you or indeed the Order decide that you are nor fitted for this life, then we will help you regain your place in outside society, but the test for you is leaving familiar surroundings, we shall send you
abroad to train.”
Martha sat down as if in shock, she had figured she would at least remain in the USA, but abroad. “When do I go?” she enquired.
The Priest was reassuring,” The flight leaves at six so you have an hour to ring your parents, before the car comes for you”
Martha’s head spun “Where am I going?” she asked.
He smiled “Questions, are you sure you wish a life of obedience?”
She nodded, “What about my stuff.”
A kindly middle aged Nun spoke “We shall supply everything required, and hold your possessions until you take final vows, then we shall give them to the poor.”
Martha walked to the desk and slowly and deliberately added her signature to the documents four sets being provided in the best bureaucratic traditions, and then as the nuns quietly smiled at her the eldest sister gently took Martha’s hand and led her to the side room, phone, phone books, pen, writing paper with the orders heading, envelopes, laptop computer everything necessary for a final call or letter home sat on the simple desk.
The nun spoke softly “You have an hour,”
Martha left a message on her mom’s answering service, wrote her friends an email and her grandmother a letter and then it was time to go.
A nun entered, “You are Martha Allen yes?” she enquired.
Martha turned and saw a vision of beauty, in her simple black robe, with her hair covered just her face fringed with the white headdress, unadorned natural but beautiful.
“I’m Martha , Hi ” she agreed.
“Good I am Sister Charlotte, your chaperone; I have a dress for you, more suitable than you so short skirt I think.” Charlotte held the simple long black dress out to Martha.
“Please put this on, we have a plane to catch”.
Martha slipped off her red Jacket and her knee length skirt, standing self consciously in her tee white tee shirt and pantyhose with her frilly pink knickers and brassiere faintly visible through the translucent material.
The long black dress fitted perfectly, to her surprise, and Charlotte agreed her flat heeled black shoes would be fine.
“Your case is in the car, so leave your purse on the table by your jacket and we can go.”
Martha was completely unprepared for this, her cell phone, all her private stuff, her comb.
Charlotte spoke soothingly, “It is time to leave such materialistic things aside, come I have your papers, time to go.”
Martha felt strangely naked without her cell phone and purse, yet in black with no perceptible cleavage and a hemline near her ankles she was almost as covered up as when wearing her dad’s boiler suit when she had helped fix the shed roof last fall.
A black Limousine waited for them at the kerbside, Martha looked surprised at it’s opulence, Charlotte reassured her, “It’s the Bishop’s, we borrow it to save the cost of a Taxi”. As it sped them to the airport, Martha reflected on what she had done in the past and dreamed of the future, and what was in store for her, perhaps singing Ave Maria to a crowded abbey or monastery chapel or Nessum Dorma, originally and properly a Soprano solo not the Tenor of Pavarotti and the like, Martha loved to sing, and had she realised it was the love of music not God that had set her on this course…
On arrival at the Airport the check in was perfunctory and they were whisked to the executive lounge.
Martha was surprised, “Why first class”
Charlotte chuckled, “It’s an upgrade, only the best for God, we pay standby yet fly first class, don’t ask, enjoy.”
The plane was near empty, a 747 and while Charlotte sampled the delights of the drinks trolley Martha tried to sleep.
The flight was long and uneventful, and landing silky smooth.
Charlotte staggered and swayed through customs and failed to recognise her bags on the luggage carousel until Martha guessed it must be the nondescript brown one,
but a Limousine similar to the one they travelled in earlier was waiting for them and soon they were heading out into the mountains, climbing ever higher, the dizzying height amplified by the tortuous hairpin bends, Martha felt queasy in her stomach as clearly Charlotte did too .
Charlottte asked the driver to stop, and she walked to the edge of the highway where clutching a guard rail as they surveyed a thousand foot drop Charlotte threw up, the golden chunks of vomit shining and glistening in the Italian sun, as they tumbled and fell.
Charlotte explained “I cannot resist the alcohol, all other temptation yes, wine no, but Jesus did he not turn water into wine?” she hiccupped and motioned for them to return to the car.
The convent was situated for defence rather than comfortable living, they passed an ornate gatehouse and continued for several miles it seemed climbing higher and higher up the single track road every now and again passing places equipped with red and green lights were provided to regulate traffic and at one point a lifting bridge over a ravine provided additional security, The road ending at a turning head and car park over a mile short of the mountain top on which the bleak stone Convent perched. Martha noticed several Nuns loading provisions from a supermarket truck onto a four wheeled cart.
Charlotte collected their cases and they set off to walk up the narrow winding track.
The wind whistled around and a brief flurry of rain welcomed them as they entered the portals of the Convent of St Angelique.
Charlotte announced their return at the reception desk, a modern desk with computer screens fitted into the thirteenth century architecture.
She looked at Martha, smiled and told her to wait, and with a small wave walked away.
Martha heard footsteps, almost military in their regularity, and a small nun approached, maybe sixty Martha guessed.
“I am sister Grace, you I presume are Martha”
“Yes Sister”
“Then come with me.” Martha followed along long cold corridors with plain stone walls and worn stone floors, and up narrow stone staircases until they arrived in a long room. a long partition ran the length of the room seeming to divide a section into cubicles. “We have been allocated the name Amelia, Sister Amelia, for when you take your final vows.”
Martha was stunned, they were even going to take away her name, “I like being Martha” she complained.
Grace smiled, “I was Tiffany, Fanny they called me, I like Grace better, you will like being Amelia, you will see.”
Sister Grace opened a door and showed Martha her cubicle, a wooden shelf two feet wide a foot off the floor on one side, shelves a foot wide on the other and coat hooks in the far wall the only fittings, A coarse blanket lay on the wide shelf.
Grace smiled. “Your new home, you will like it here I know, now put the robe you brought with you on, and the shoes and I shall return for the other things in a few minutes, oh and the ear stud, and your watch. I shall fetch refreshment.”
Martha unlocked the case, two robes, two shoes, and a simple rectangle of cloth all bound round a beautiful reproduction antique bible.
Martha realised the implications, but quickly undressed and slipped the long robe over her head, it was coarse and it irritated her breasts but at least it was thick and warm.
She slipped on the boots, a perfect fit.
Sister Grace reappeared carrying a tray, “You do like chicken I hope, and chipped potatoes?”
Martha liked eating chicken but hated having to kill and pluck the birds that had become pets back home.
Grace collected Martha’s clothes. “It takes some getting used to but it’s so much more healthy, I remember my tight pants used to leave horrible marks around my waist, oh yes I was young once too.”
Martha was intrigued, “Do all the Nuns speak English?”
Grace replied, “We train Nuns for English speaking Countries so yes, but some days are silent so we communicate by sign.”
Grace turned to leave, “I shall collect the tray, and take you to the lavatories in a few minutes.”
Grace returned and led Martha along the row of cubicles to the end where to her surprise a bench or plank about eighteen inches above the floor with six large round holes in was situated above six oversize enamel buckets. “We do not have the latest technology, but it works, so do what you need to, use the newspaper or if you prefer a page from the Koran. Sister Alyssa always likes the Koran, Grace smiled like a naughty school girl.
Martha sat on the cold hard wood. her bowels clenched tight as she relieved her bladder, and looked up startled as a group of nuns walked in, and as some waited others took up the places beside her, she waited but as the others wiped themselves unconsciously she felt able to do the same.
Then Grace took her to the back wall where the cold stone basins awaited the cold water from more galvanised buckets, she watched fascinated as quite unselfconsciously other nuns pulled off their habits and hanging them on the rail provided proceeded to wash in the icy water.
Martha found a vacant bowl and taking the coarse cloth washed herself all over except her feet.
Grace spotted this omission “Your feet child, I shall chastise you for that before you go to sleep.”
Martha laboriously undid the laces and removed the long boots, and carefully washed between her toes.
Grace clapped her hands, “Girls, this is Martha, she will be known after induction as Sister Amelia and she is a dirty girl who was going to bed with unwashed feet, I must chastise her, will someone who has not sinned today administer six lashes.
Silence fell. Martha reached in her pocket and pulled out a whip, a short handle then a long flexible leather strap, six feet in total perhaps.
Martha saw Nuns moving to the Wall opposite the cubicles and noticed the handrail a few feet from the wall, for ballet she had thought until the first Nun bent over it and raised her habit to reveal a very shapely backside.
Grace glared at her “All must suffer for your misdemeanour” she announced moving down the row, the whip landing but once on each leaving an ugly weal on each wobbling or tight backside.
Grace ordered them to bed and each went to their own cubicle, Martha saw her name Amelia and entered and only after she shut the door did it register that it could only be opened by a key from inside.
Martha sought to open a conversation but immediately Grace bellowed “Silence.”
The night should have passed slowly but Martha fell instantly into a deep untroubled sleep.
She was woken at four as the others got up and she joined in prayers in the chapel, glad of her Latin lessons at JFK high school back home.
By six she was scrubbing the chapel floor, menial work she would never have dreamed of back home and by ten she was trying out for the choir.
The afternoon she spent doing test translations from Latin to American english using a computer and after dinner in the main dining hall, and prayers she was brought to the mother superior.
She peered down at Martha, “My Child god has truly instilled within you great gifts, you may sing with the choir, and in time train for solo parts and your gifts will be of use for translation, but, do you understand what penances these privileges bring.
Martha had no idea. “No Reverend Mother”
The Mother Superior smiled “You shall empty the latrine buckets, and take a turn at the luggage cart, do you agree?”
Martha smiled, “If it is Gods will, then so be it.”
Martha had cause to regret her bravado.
The Latrines were emptied after lock in, Grace came for her at Midnight and showed her the yoke and how to hang a bucket on each end and then lift them to her shoulders, A door led t a flight of steps. down into the bowels of the convent then a rocky path down the mountainside to the open cess pit, one of three use in rotation to provide fertiliser for the village a few miles down the valley.
The buckets were full and the shit threatened to spill out.
Grace whispered conspiratorially “We used to hang our robes on the hook and go down without, to keep them clean,”
Martha looked at her feet
Grace nodded, “Those as well”
Forty eight hours after leaving her home in the US clutching a straight A report from School Martha stepped naked into the Mountain moonlight carrying two stinking buckets of cold shit on a wooden yoke round her neck.
Martha felt exhilarated she belonged at last, a useful member of society.
She washed and refilled the buckets in the mountain stream to provide the washing water for next day and after three round trips she went tired but happy to her bed.
She was detailed for the Cart next day, a closed day, no one was allowed within two miles of the grounds on closed days and so they made use of the time, Habits were useless attire for hard physical labour so a simple work outfit of a wide leather belt around the waist then up between the breasts to a collar around the neck had evolved, on public days this was to be worn under a Habit with the tow ropes lead through slots but the girls found it more pleasant to work without.
So Martha took her place with six others as they hauled the little cart up the narrow road, they started by singing songs but towards the top someone misjudged the width and the Cart stopped with a wheel off the track jammed among the rocks, the girls strained to their utmost until helped on by lashes across their bare backs and buttocks the dragged the cart clear, the sense of achievement and comradeship was overwhelming, and Martha realised she was bizarrely exhilarated by their teamwork and judging by the other girls she was not alone in this.
Weeks passed, Martha started her period and enquired about towels or tampons.
Sister Grace told her not to worry about such things but to concentrate on prayer but Martha found the experience humiliating in the extreme.
A few days later as she scrubbed the Chancel floor the Mother Superior sent for her.
She greeted Martha, offered her wine and chocolate biscuits and had her sit down. “My child, you have given reasonable satisfaction thus far, but as with all Americans we must be honest and admit that we are unsure of your claims to retaining your Virginity, will you submit to a full examination.”
Martha was indignant, “Reverend Mother I am so hurt at this suggestion, yes you may inspect me, but rest assured pure I am and pure I shall remain.”
The older woman was apologetic, “I regret that Doctor Fischer is the only physician available, will you submit to his examinations.”
Martha had a tinge of guilt, her own Doctor had checked her lower regions on a number of occasions in the States and she wondered if any of his incursions had in fact torn her Hymen. “Yes I had a male doctor in the states, it is nothing to me.”
The examination took place immediately, in the adjacent medical room where Martha sat with her feet in stirrups in the custom made gynaecological chair where Dr Fischer could spread her legs apart at will to inspect her and with her robe lifted up he had unimpeded access.
The Doctor smiled “You have a beautiful hymen my dear,” he removed his fingers from where they had been separating her lower lips and Martha felt ashamed both at how nice the doctors fingers felt and the glistening moisture which his incursions had produced in her.
Dr Fischer was a Doctor, but of engineering not gynaecology and he had a penchant for young ladies, specifically Virgins
Dr Fischer informed Martha the consultation was over before her followed the Mother Superior to her office.
Martha was not the first Virgin Nun to be offered for a great deal of money nor would she be the last but Convents are expensive items to build and run, and eighteen year old Virgins almost extinct.
Fischer wrote the cheque for $100 000. One hundred thousand dollars American, he would listen to her sing at Mass and then she would be taken to a guest room were he would take her, by force if necessary.
Martha was on cloud nine after singing Nessum Dorma, she the soloist for the first time and then the thrill increased as the order to go to Guest room five was relayed.
Martha knocked decorously, and was invited in. she saw the Doctor. “Oh Doctor is there a problem” she asked.
“No, not a problem, It is just that I am overcome by your beauty and I wish to lie with you.”
Martha stared “No I am a Nun it is forbidden.”
He smiled, “And you feel nothing for me, do you not remember how the touch of my fingers made you feel, did it not feel right?”
Martha’s hill country nature showed through the thin veneer of cloistered servitude, “no you are old, old enough to be my father, the very thought of what you propose disgusts me.”
His eyes twinkled, “But disgust can turn to interest and to excitement and pleasure, I shall not force you, but neither shall I honour the cheque I have paid the Mother Superior for your, ah, maidenhead.”
Martha flew from the room running where even walking briskly was banned until she reached the Mother Superior’s room all the senior Nuns were there, and seated behind her desk was the boss, the Mother Superior, their earnest discussion, abruptly ceased and they looked up shocked at Martha’s intrusion.
Martha glared angrily across the desk “You sold my soul.”
The older woman’s reply stunned her “He offered one hundred thousand American for you, think of the good works we can do with that money, one hundred thousand, can you not do this for us, for the poor.”
“No never” Martha shouted.
The Mother Superior scolded her “Then you are a selfish girl, putting yourself first and above others, you have no place here.”
The implications sank in to Martha, she rallied her thoughts. “Make it two fifty thousand then.”
“I shall pay three hundred with pleasure” the Doctor had entered quietly and had called Martha’s bluff.
Three hundred thousand, the Mother Superior’s hands became clammy and she found herself becoming aroused.
“Then it is agreed, take her to the Guest room, but stay with her Sister Grace, ensure that only that which has been agreed is done.”
Martha returned to the guest room much slower than she had left, her stomach churning at the thought of the unspeakable depravity to come.
Doctor Fischer and Sister Grace followed her and as they entered sister Grace securely locked and bolted the door from the inside.
Sister Grace put her arms round Martha, hugging her as a mother would her own child
“just gird yourself, pray and it will soon be over.”
Martha snapped, “It is easy to say”
Grace smiled her naughty schoolgirl smile “I too was young once, and pretty, he was a nobleman, you never forget.”
Doctor Fischer spoke apologetically, “In the excitement I seem to have ejaculated in my trousers so I regret we must adjourn this little liaison until a later date.
Grace was outraged, “No take her now, or never, take your robe off child, show your beauty, thrill this vile beast.
Martha pulled her robe off over her head and stood by the bed naked except for her boots, the bulge in Fischer’s trousers remained inconsequential.
Grace seized the initiative, wrenching open Fischer’s striped trousers and hauling down his boxer shorts she grasped the slime covered member and squeezed the sac containing the testes, then as it stiffened she wiped it with a cloth and to Martha’s complete horror Grace kissed the end then she kissed the shaft before opening her mouth wide and swallowing the whole length, the member stirred to hardness, and Grace stood up. “See it is ready”.
Martha arranged herself on the bed, spreading her legs as she supposed a prostitute would do to more easily accept the Doctors swollen member.
She smiled at the bizarre circumstances, a doctor in a smart pinstripe suit, with his trousers around his ankles about to ravish her, and she a naked Nun with her legs arranged with the obscenity of a common prostitute as she waited patiently to be deflowered, the greatest of all sins for a Nun, and most bizarre of all, with another fully dressed Nun in attendance.
He knelt before her and she closed her eyes as she sensed him approaching, the soft yet hard tip of his manhood tantalising her lower lips, then inching further, she felt moisture and to her horror realised it was her own secretions, her body disobeying her mind as it sought to minimise the damage the intruder mighty wreak then the sudden pain, the membrane resisting his thrusts, but it was young and healthy and in the normal course of nature its time would already have passed, and so with a sharp pain which made her scream briefly she became at once both woman and prostitute.
Sister Grace went from feelings of relief as Fischer’s Penis disappeared within Martha to horror as she wrapped her les around him and appeared to enjoy the experience; she even thought Martha invited him to fuck her harder at one stage.
Martha struggled with her emotions, something unforeseen, the pain was as expected but this raw emotion writhing like the very devil within her, like a coiled spring waiting to explode, and the trigger was the release of the mans seed, the fluid searing hot yet ice cold shot within her and something exploded within her she prayed for forgiveness as the waves of her first ever orgasm swept over her. “yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me harder, no don’t stop, oh god, don’t stop, she realised Grace was staring at her.
Grace could see that Martha could never be the same naive innocent again
Fischer pulled his shrinking slime covered appendage from her, she felt sullied and dirty, she wanted a hot shower, to scrub away the sullied layers of skin with a coarse brush to rid herself of his filth but a part of her wanted Fischer to repeat the performance, she shivered at the thought.
Fischer planted a kiss decorously on Martha’s cheek, thanked her nicely and bowing and fastening his trousers he thanked Grace as she opened the door for him and he strode from the room.