The humid summer air lay heavy over the walls of the monastery of Santa Maria de Dios. It was a place of silence and reverence, but on this day an unusual guest would arrive. Mother Superior, a woman in her prime with stern features and a look that knew more than she revealed, stood in the archway and waited.

A black, polished car turned onto the gravel path and stopped in front of the entrance. The driver's door opened and an elegant, middle-aged woman stepped out. It was Mrs. Van der Meer, one of the monastery's wealthiest and most influential donors.

"Mother Superior," she greeted the superior with a cool nod. "Thank you for taking care of my son."

"It is an honor, Mrs. Van der Meer," replied the superior with a slight bow. "The monastery owes you a lot."

Mrs. Van der Meer pointed to the rear door of the car. "My Jack, he is... of a special nature. I will be away for a few days and I don't want to leave him alone." She opened the door and a small man appeared to wriggle out of the car.

Jack was no taller than a twelve-year-old boy, his back was arched, and his nose, a large hooked nose, dominated his face. But the most striking thing about him, hidden even by his clothing, was an obviously tall man's thing that didn't seem to fit his stature.

"Jack," said his mother in a tone that brooked no argument, "you will be in good hands here. Mother Superior will take care of you."

Jack looked from his mother to the superior with large, dark eyes and nodded silently.

"His... needs are unusual," Mrs. Van der Meer continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Jack has to be patiently jerked off three times every morning. In the shower. And then... he gets to fuck her. I do it for him every day, the dear boy deserves it."

Mother Superior froze. Her eyes widened for a moment before she resumed her composed posture. "Mrs. Van der Meer, I don't fully understand..."

"You understand very well," the lady interrupted coolly. "Jack is a healthy boy with healthy needs. I expect my donations... to be honored." She pushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I heard that the young sister Agnes is particularly... sensitive. She should take care of him."

With a final nod to her son, Mrs. Van der Meer got back into the car, which immediately sped away, leaving a cloud of dust on the gravel path.

Mother Superior stood motionless for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Sister Agnes!" she called into the courtyard.

A young nun, barely twenty, with gentle features and large eyes, rushed over. "Yes, Mother Superior?"

"We have a special guest," the matron explained, pointing to Jack. "Mrs. Van der Meer's son. He will be here for a few days and you will look after him."

Sister Agnes looked at the little man with curious eyes. A hunchbacked gnome, she thought, but his eyes had a strange intensity.

"His mother has... special instructions for his morning routine," the matron continued, avoiding Agnes' gaze. "She expects you to follow her instructions. For the good of the monastery."

Agnes listened with her mouth open and nodded in confusion. "Yes, Mother Superior."

"Be a good girl, Agnes," whispered the superior, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I know I can rely on you."

When the matron had left, Agnes led Jack to his room. It was simple but clean, with a wrought iron bed and a small cross on the wall.

"This will be your room," said Agnes kindly. "I'll be next door if you need anything."

Jack sat down on the bed, his little legs dangling in the air. "You're pretty," he said suddenly, his voice deeper than Agnes would have expected. "I love that you have a beautiful, full and heavy breast, Sister Agnes." Agnes blushed. "And there is no black bush between your white thighs, just a delicate down, as girly as I like it very much." Agnes jumped back. "From where...?" Jack smiled. "Being short has its advantages, dear Sister Agnes."

Agnes blushed. "Thanks, Jack. Now you need to rest. Tomorrow morning... we have to follow your morning routine."

Jack laughed, a strange, deep laugh that didn't suit his mood. "Oh yes, the morning routine. Mom told you about it, right?"

Agnes nodded and crossed herself. "Oh what a sin, a mortal sin! Your mom jerks you off and then you fuck her from behind like a dog, oh what a sin, a mortal sin!" She fanned herself with her hand. "Of course Sister Agnes wouldn't do anything like that. I'm a chaste nun. Most of the time anyway."

Jack grinned. "Most of the time, eh? That sounds interesting. And another thing, I've never been violent to my mom. She loves being fucked by my battering ram, and those are her words, Sister Agnes, not mine."

Agnes turned even redder and hurried out of the room. Late that evening, as she lay in bed and prayed, she couldn't get Jack's intense eyes out of her head. And his mother's strange instructions. What an unholy mission! Her finger no longer wandered aimlessly; it had finally found the sweet down.

The next morning Agnes woke Jack up early. "Get up, Jack. Time for your... routine."

Jack yawned and stretched. "So early? The sun is barely up yet."

"Your mother's instructions are clear," Agnes said sternly, even though her heart was pounding against her ribs. "Come on, let's go to the shower."

The monastery showers were simple, clean cells with a stone shower and a small wooden stool. Agnes took off her shoes and placed a bucket of soap and water next to the shower. The naked nuns in the other shower compartments continued to shower, only glancing curiously here and there.

"Undress, Jack," she ordered, trying to keep her voice firm.

Jack did as he was told, and as he took off his pants, Agnes froze. His cock, even at rest, was larger than anything she had ever seen. It hung heavily between his legs, a meaty weapon that didn't fit his small stature.

"Madre de Dios, what a huge thing!" Agnes exclaimed, instinctively crossing herself. "This can't be real!"

Jack grinned. "Oh, this is real, Sister Agnes. Now, as my mom says... patiently jerk me off three times."

Agnes hesitated, her mind telling her to flee, but her body... her body was gripped by a strange curiosity. She knelt before Jack, her hands shaking as they reached for his cock. She knew what to do, having grown up on a farm with many farmhands.

His huge thing was warm and heavy in her hands, and as she touched it, it grew even further until it stood fully erect before her, a display of male pride.

"You have a gentle hand, Sister Agnes," Jack whispered. "Mom's right. You're good at it."

Agnes closed her eyes and began to rub him, slowly and deliberately, as his mother had requested. She felt him tense under her touch, heard his soft moans. It was sinful, reprehensible, and yet... she couldn't stop. The nuns in the other shower compartments watched with interest.

"One time," Jack whispered after he had squirted, after a while. "Twice more."

Agnes continued, her hands becoming more skilled, more confident. She felt a strange power in this action, a control over this small man with the huge cock. The second time, Jack's breathing became shallower, his hands finding themselves in her hair.

"That's it, Sister Agnes," he groaned. "Just like mommy does."

By the third time, Jack's body was covered in a damp sweat. His hands clenched into fists, his hips began to rotate gently.

"Almost there," he gasped. "Please... don't stop."

Agnes quickened her pace, her hand gliding over his skin, feeling every vein, every bulge. Then, with a loud scream, Jack came, his cum shooting out like a volcano, covering her hands and the floor.

Agnes stared at her hands, at the white liquid slowly dripping from her skin. What had she done?

Jack was breathing heavily, a satisfied smile on his face. "That was good, Sister Agnes. Very good."

Agnes quickly got up and washed her hands. "That was a sin, Jack. A terrible sin. A nun should be chaste and not do something like that or even think about it in her fantasies."

Jack shrugged. "If it's a sin, then it feels good. And now..." he pointed to his erect member, which was still standing, "...like my mom says, now I get to fuck you."

Agnes' eyes widened. "No! I can't do that! I'm a nun!" Images of the past flashed back, of how dad and the farmhands fucked her and her mom so wonderfully on special occasions, one after the other, nicely behaved. And dad was the best, hands down.

"You've already done the first half," Jack replied calmly. “What does it matter anymore?” He stepped closer to her, his hand stroking her cheek. "You are so beautiful, Sister Agnes. I saw you yesterday. I desired your breasts and your fluff from the first moment. I knew it would be you."

Agnes trembled, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through her body. "I... I can't."

"You can," Jack whispered, his hand going to her collar. "And you want to too."

His fingers found the knot of her habit and before Agnes knew it, her robe came loose. Her guilt, her vows, everything seemed to become unimportant in that moment and fluttered onto the tile floor. .

Jack kissed her, his lips surprisingly soft. Agnes felt her resistance melting, her body demanding more.

"Please," she whispered against his mouth. "Please be gentle."

Jack grinned. "Always, my beautiful nun. Always."

He led her to a small bench in the corner of the shower, bent her over, as his mother described it, "from behind like a dog," and penetrated her.

Agnes cried out, a scream of pain and pleasure. Jack was huge, filling her, stretching her to her limits. But then he began to move, slowly at first, then faster, and Agnes felt a wave of pleasure shoot through her body.

"Madre de Dios!" she screamed as her first orgasm swept through her. "Oh my God! Good God!"

Jack laughed and quickened his pace, his hands grabbing her hips, pulling her deeper onto him. "Just the way Mama likes it, right, Sister Agnes?"

Agnes could only moan, her mind overwhelmed by pleasure. She was a nun, a farmhand of God, and yet... and yet she felt more alive than ever before. To orgasm like in the arms of dad and the farmhands.

When it was over, Agnes sank exhausted onto the bench. Jack stood over her, a satisfied smile on his face.

"That was good, Sister Agnes," he said. "Very good. Mom will be proud of you."

Agnes was shaking, tears streaming down her cheeks. What had she done? She had broken her vow, gotten involved with this... this little devil.

Jack knelt next to her, his hand rubbing her back. "Don't cry, beautiful Agnes. It was just a bit of fun. And no one has to know." The naked nuns in the other shower sections went back to showering. The spectacle was over, the little gnome had fucked Sister Agnes, two, no, three times in a row.

Agnes looked at him and in that moment she knew that her life would never be the same again. She had tasted the forbidden fruit and she knew she would want it again.

In the following days the routine was repeated. Every morning Agnes woke Jack up, led him to the shower, patiently jerked him off three times, and then... then she let him fuck her and faded away in her orgasms. Each time she swore it would be the last time, but each time she gave in to temptation.

On his last day in the monastery there was a knock on Agnes' door. It was Mother Superior, her face was serious.

"Sister Agnes," she said bluntly. "Mrs. Van der Meer is coming to pick up her son today. I assume you followed her instructions?"

Agnes blushed, pressed her habit to her naked body and nodded. "Yes, Mother Superior."

The superior sighed. "Good. Your willingness to sacrifice yourself will not go unnoticed. The monastery is grateful to you."

When she left, Agnes sat on her bed and cried. She had sold her soul for the good of the monastery, for the donations of a rich lady. For the little devil's giant thing.

In the afternoon Mrs. Van der Meer came. Jack was already packed and waiting in the archway.

"Sister Agnes," said the lady with a cool smile. "I hope my Jack wasn't a problem for you."

Agnes shook her head. "No, Mrs. Van der Meer. He was... a gracious guest."

Mrs. Van der Meer examined her with sharp eyes. "You look... different, Sister Agnes. Exhausted. Tired. Weary."

Agnes winced. "I... it's been a busy week, Madam. Your son Jack is insatiable, no one told me that before."

The lady laughed, a cold, metallic laugh. "I understand. Well, I am grateful for your service. The monastery can count on my next generous donation."

She turned and walked to Jack. "Come on, son. We're going home."

Jack followed his mother to the car, but before he got in he turned around and looked at Agnes.

"Farewell, Sister Agnes," he cried. "I won't forget you."

Agnes watched as the car sped away, leaving a cloud of dust on the gravel path. She knew this wasn't the end. Jack, the little hunchbacked gnome with the big nose and the huge thing, had burned himself into her heart, her soul and her cunt.

In the weeks and days that followed, Agnes could not forget Jack. Every time she was in the shower, she remembered his touch, his words, the way he made her body tremble.

She prayed harder, fasted longer, tried to banish sin from her heart, but it was in vain. The memory of Jack was like a fire that consumed everything. Her finger raced in the fuzz to relive the beautiful things over and over again.

One night, waking up from yet another guilt-filled dream, she knelt before the cross in her room.

"Forgive me, Lord," she whispered. "I am weak. I am a sinner."

But when she looked up, the crucified man seemed to be smiling, and she knew that her sin was forgiven. Or maybe... maybe it hadn't been a sin at all.

A month later there was a knock at the gates of the monastery. It was a young messenger delivering a letter. The letter was from Mrs. Van der Meer.

Agnes opened it with shaking hands. There was only one sentence in it:

"My son longs to see you again. He will come tomorrow. Prepare yourself."

Agnes sank to her knees and the letter fell from her hands. Jack came back. And this time too she knew she couldn't resist.

When the sun rose over the walls of the monastery the next morning, Agnes was already standing in the archway, waiting. Her heart pounded against her ribs, a mix of fear and anticipation.

Then she saw him. He got out of the car and sent him away; he was still short, still hunchbacked, still with the big hooked nose. But his smile was the same, and there was the same playful fire in his eyes.

"Sister Agnes," he said as he stood in front of her. "I missed you."

Agnes felt her knees weaken. "Me too, Jack. Me too."

He took her hand, his fingers warm and firm. "I'm staying longer this time. Mom promised a big donation if... you take care of me again."

Agnes nodded without hesitation. "I will, Jack. I will."

And as she led him to the monastery, she knew this wasn't just a mission. It was her destiny. God's will.

The next few weeks were a repeat of her first week with Jack, but this time there was no guilt, no hesitation. Agnes had accepted her role, embraced her sinful nature.

Every morning she woke Jack up, led him to the shower, patiently jerked him off three times, and then had him fucked from behind like a dog, just like his mom had demanded. But this time she enjoyed it, every time he entered her she felt her body asking for more and getting it. More nuns came to shower nakedly and glance over, to their fucking.

The sweet, heavy smoke of the joints filled the small chamber as Agnes lay on Jack's hunchbacked chest, their naked bodies melting into a sinful ball. Of course, no one smoked in the monastery, and God forbid! — especially no joints. Her fingers circled his still turgid shaft, which erected to full size under her touch. "Oh Jack, you little goat, your balls are as big as ripe chestnuts again," she whispered and playfully bit his cock. "Do you want to inseminate me again, you godless gnome? Do you want to inject your hot cream into my lusthole again?"

Jack laughed, a deep, smoky growl as he took another drag and blew the smoke straight into Agnes's mouth. "Of course, my horny nun slut. But first, tell me more about your life on the farm. I want to hear every dirty detail about how your dad rammed his rod into your fuckhole."

Agnes's eyes glowed under the influence of the weed, her hand slowly jerking him off as her memories returned to her. "Oh, Jack, our farm in Flanders was a paradise of sin! Papa was a magnificent fellow, a real man with a splendor that would have made any stallion jealous. And Mama, oh Mama, she was a real pleasure cow and always ready to spread her legs."

She laughed, a quiet, conspiratorial giggle. "I was maybe fifteen when dad took me out of bed one night. 'Agnes, my sweet bitch,' he growled, his hands already roaming my young body, 'your mom is once again too drunk for my beauty. Tonight you will replace mom.'"

Agnes' breathing became heavier, her hand jerking Jack faster. "Oh Jack, I can still remember Dad pushing his meat stuff between my thighs. He took me like a bull takes a cow, right next to Mom in the marriage bed! Mom just smiled and said, 'Give her a good one, my bull, so she can learn what a good wife is!'"

Jack rubbed excitedly at Agnes' pointed teats; his eyes had become slits. "And mom was watching? The old sow?"

Agnes nodded, her face glowing. "She wasn't just watching! She was cheering him on! 'Fuck her deeper, man!' she shouted while daddy rammed his cock into me tirelessly. I screamed with pain and pleasure, and mom just laughed and said: 'That's how it should be, my Agnes, that's how a woman becomes a woman!'"

She pulled and tugged at Jack's glans, which was already covered in pre-pleasure wetness. She continued. "That was just the beginning, Jack. From then on, dad fucked me every night, and I goddamn loved it, his fucking with the big cock in my cunt. At the big parties, when the farmhands came from the other farms, that's when things got really kinky. That's when dad said: 'There's a feast for you tonight, boys! My two wives are there for all of you!' You know, we in Flanders are a happy people, God's favorite children. Only the French and the Prussians did sin, we in Flanders don't sin. Jerking off and fucking are something completely natural and normal." Jack smiled at such naivety. She took a deep drag on the joint. "There was nothing about jerking off and fucking in God's Ten Commandments, Jack. The 6th commandment only refers to the fact that a good Christian man should not desire his neighbor's wife. Should, so just a recommendation and very wise from the good Lord, because you simply suppressed the desire and fucked your neighbor's wife into the ground with a clear conscience, without any desire. That was a good country, our Flanders!"

Jack groaned, his hands finding themselves in Agnes' hair. "Damn it, Agnes! The whole gang took you? One by one?"

Agnes nodded, her breath coming out raggedly. "Oh yes! Papa decided the turn. The oldest farmhand went first, a big, stupid boy named Klaus. He threw me on the kitchen table and took me while Mama massaged his balls. Then came the next, and the next, until all of them had gotten what they wanted."

She leaned forward and took Jack's cockhead into her mouth, her tongue dancing over the sensitive tip. "Mom and I, we loved it, Jack! We loved being taken by so many cocks! I just screamed and begged all night for them to fuck me harder, and they did! The farmhands, they were like animals, they fucked us in every position possible, in the ass, in the mouth, between the tits, until we were dripping with cum!"

Jack twitched beneath her, his cock throbbing and spurting in her mouth. "Damn, Agnes, you horny slut! I want to fuck you now! I want to take you like the farmhands took you!"

Agnes laughed and let his cock slip out of her mouth with a loud 'pop'. "Not so fast, my little gnome! First I want you to tell me what you would do to me if you were a farmhand on our farm."

Jack grinned, his eyes twinkling perversely. "I'd drag you to the stables first, you bitch! I'd throw you over the haystack and take you from behind while you scream! I'd fuck you so hard you wouldn't be able to walk for weeks! The stallions would stomp their hooves and cheer me on."

Agnes moaned and spread her legs. "Then do it, Jack! Take me like the farmhands took me! Cover me with your hot juice, make me your whore!"

Jack let out a shrill scream of pleasure and pounced on her, his cock penetrating her wet, lustful cunt in a single, hard thrust. Agnes screamed, a scream of pain and pleasure as Jack pounded her like a man possessed. "So, you slut! That's how you want it, right? You want it hard, you want it kinky!"

Agnes nodded, her hands clawing at his back. "Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me to death, you little devil! Cum inside, flood me with your juice, you perv gnome!"

Jack groaned, his pace becoming faster, wilder, until he came with a loud scream, squirting his hot cream deep inside her cunt. Agnes screamed too, her body convulsing with the orgasm that ripped through her.

They lay there for a while, breathing heavily, their bodies melting into a piggy pile of sweat and cum. Then Agnes rolled onto her side and looked at Jack. "You little gnome, you're the best fucker I've ever had. Better than daddy, stormier than the farmhands."

Jack grinned. "I know, my horny nun slut. And now I have an idea for our next adventure."

Agnes' eyes glowed. "Tell me, you perverted gnome. What did you think up again?"

Jack leaned forward and whispered in her ear as his hand found its way to her cunt again. "How about we grab some young, pretty novices from the monastery? I'd like to see them lick each other while you and I watch and jerk off."

Agnes moaned, her lustful cunt becoming wet again. "Oh Jack, you're so perverted! But I love it! Let's do what you say! Let's grab some innocent lambs and involve them in our sinful games!"

They laughed, two ungodly sinners who had long since decided to devote their lives to lust. And as they prepared for their next perverted adventure, they knew this was just the beginning.

The two young novices came. But there was no way they were going to perform girl sex like in a circus. This was their intimacy, their secret that they would not share with anyone. Never. Jack nodded, knowing there was no point in digging any further. He said they could let his battering ram hit them. Or?

Jack's hunchbacked body trembled with eager anticipation as the two novices hesitantly opened their simple robes. Their skin was milky and young, her breasts not yet fully developed but firm and with pink, pointed nipples that were already hard as little pebbles with excitement. One, a slender redhead with freckles, looked shyly at the floor, while the other, a brunette beauty with full lips, smiled directly at Jack, as if daring him to strike immediately.

"So, my sweet lambs," Jack growled, his big nose vibrating with excitement. "Which one of you will get fucked by my beauty first?" His hand wrapped around his already bulging cock, which stiffened even further under her gaze.

The redhead flinched, but the brunette took a step forward. "Me, Mr. Jack," she whispered, looking him straight in the eyes. "I want to feel your flesh stretching and filling me."

Agnes laughed shamelessly and pulled the redhead towards her. "Don't be so shy, my sweet child. Let me sit you on this chair and spread your thighs. I want to see Jack's rod slide into your sweet slit."

The redhead obeyed shakily, her face red with embarrassment and excitement. Agnes knelt in front of her and spread her legs, her fingers finding themselves in the damp, young hair of her pubes. "Oh, you're so wet already, my child. So you want it too, don't you? You want to be fucked, hard and deep."

The redhead just nodded, a soft moan escaping her lips. Meanwhile, Jack had turned to the brunette and was pulling her towards him by her hair. He kissed her wildly, his tongue entering her mouth while his other hand kneaded her small, firm breasts. "You're a little slut, aren't you?" he growled in her ear. "You want me to take you, here and now, in front of your girlfriend?"

The brunette just moaned and rubbed herself on his hard cock. "Yes, Mr. Jack. Take me. Make me a woman."

Jack laughed and spun her around so she was on her hands and knees in front of him like a puppy. He rammed his beauty into her wet crack from behind and the brunette screamed in pleasure. "Yes! Like that! Fuck me! Fuck me hard, you little gnome!"

In the meantime, Agnes had stuck her fingers upon the redhead's slit and was masturbating her while she worked her clit with her thumb. The redhead moaned and screamed, her body convulsing under Agnes' skilled hand. "Oh! Oh! I'm coming! I'm coming!"

Jack, hearing the screams, became even wilder. He rammed his cock deeper and deeper into the brunette's pussy until he came with a loud scream and squirted his hot cream deep inside her. The brunette cried out as well, her body convulsing from the orgasm that ripped through her.

Jack slowly pulled out of her, his cock still dripping with cum and sheep juices. He looked at Agnes and the redhead, who was still sitting trembling in the chair. "Now it's your turn, my sweet freckled child. Are you ready for my rod?"

The redhead nodded, her face flushed with embarrassment but her eyes glowing with lust. She stood up and walked over to Jack, her hands finding themselves on his chest. "I'm still a virgin, Mr. Jack. But today, today I want to feel you, Mr. Jack. I want to feel your battering ram inside me, pounding and squirting in my cunt."

Jack laughed and pulled her close. He picked her up and sat her on the table, spreading her legs and penetrating her with a single, hard thrust. The redhead screamed, a scream of pain and pleasure as Jack rammed into her like a man possessed. "So, you sweet slut! That's how you want it, right? You want it hard, you want it kinky!"

The redhead nodded, her hands clawing at his back. "Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me like a beast, you little devil!"

Jack groaned, his pace becoming faster, wilder, until he came with a loud scream and squirted his hot cream deep inside her. The redhead screamed too, her body convulsing from the orgasm that ripped through her.

They lay there for a while, breathing heavily, their bodies melting into a piggy pile of sweat and cum. Agnes, who had been watching everything, laughed and patted Jack on the shoulder. "You little goat, you really gave it to them. They will never forget you."

Jack grinned. "I know, my horny Agnes. — And now I have an idea for our next adventure."

Agnes' eyes glowed. "Tell me, you perverted gnome. What did you think up again?"

Jack leaned in and whispered in her ear as his hand found its way to her lust again. "How about it, ...?"

Agnes moaned, her lust becoming wet again. "Oh Jack, you're so perverted! But I love it! Let's do what you say! Let's involve them in our sinful games!"

Agnes's fingers twirled Jack's chest hair. "Jack, we're almost like husband and wife, or like brother and sister, who really like to fuck each other. So I'll tell you another secret, even though I'm going against the dark Mother Superior."

"During the first four years in the monastery, I was a novice and had not yet taken the vow of chastity. So it happened that the Mother Superior put me in the bed of the venerable bishop, who had noticed me. He saw with x-ray eyes what was hidden under my habit. I became the bishop's sweetheart, the bishop who never slept across the street in his palazzo, but always here in the convent. I was very happy to be his mistress, even though his cock was much smaller. But he was always good to me and I didn't take on strangers' feathers, but he treated me like a daughter with whom he loved to have incest. Oh, and how I loved his gentle fucking! I experienced for the first time how beautiful and peaceful love could be. I always peeled the foreskin back and kissed the head, so he did cum in my mouth, but rarely. I usually rode the old man until he squirted. He then always fell asleep peacefully like a baby.

But what happened next was horrific. The holy bishop had a Camerlengo, something like a secretary. He was a pig, a real dirty pig! He peered from the corridor through the crack in the door until the holy bishop fell asleep. Then he sneaked in and fucked me, the bastard! He didn't ask, he didn't care about my wishes. He fucked me and he didn't want to fuck anyone else, just me. After three and a half years the kind and gentle bishop died, the Camerlengo automatically became vicar general and it was only a matter of months before the Vatican would appoint him bishop. Because of the bishop's death I was fair game, the Camerlengo "inherited" the bishop and now fucked me day and night, almost officially. And the Camerlengo had a dog, a Great Dane named "Montagu". The Camerlengo sometimes caught a shy nun in the monastery garden, made her get on all fours and pulled her habit up over her head. He set Montagu on the poor woman, who of course fucked the woman like a dog. When he was finished, the Camerlengo fucked the cowering woman himself, then kicked her in the ass and let the crying woman go. He was such a pig, the Camerlengo! He was found dead in his room one morning, his lips turned blue. A heart attack, the coroner said. I didn't cry a single tear for the scumbag, he deserved to be poisoned and go straight to hell." Jack paused in his ruffling of her hair. "You poisoned him?" Agnes looked at him for a long time, but she didn't answer. Her look said it all.

Jack's fingers, which had been curling Agnes's hair, froze for a moment. A thick drop of pre-lust rolled from his glans and dripped onto Agnes' thigh, where it slowly ran down like a tear of sin. His breath hitched, not from excitement, but from a new, darker kind of sinfulness. "You... you killed him?" He whispered, his voice hoarse, rough like a scream from a grave. "The old, unholy pig... you poisoned the Vicar General?"

Agnes's lips curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. It was the smile of a snake that has just shed its skin. She sat up, her breasts hanging heavy and full, teats hard from previous lovemaking. Her fingers stroked Jack's hunched back, a gesture that suddenly seemed cold and calculating. "I didn't confess, my little gnome. But I didn't shed a tear for the scumbag either. He got what he deserved. A cup of wine that I brought him personally. One last sip before he went to hell. Poisoned? Yes, possibly. I may have poisoned him. And I would do it again."

Jack stared at her, his cock, swollen with pure pleasure only moments before, sagging now a little. This was a different kind of perversion, one that chilled him to the marrow and electrified him at the same time. A murderer. His Agnes. His horny nun slut was a cold-hearted murderer. "You... you're even worse than me," he stammered, a grin spreading across his face. "You're a real devil. Just my taste."

Agnes laughed, a deep, rumbling laugh. "I learned in the monastery that sometimes you have to sell the angels to survive with the devils. The bishop... he was good to me. He loved me, in his own twisted way. But the Camerlengo... he was hell in human form. He took me like a thief in the night. He fucked me without asking, he treated me like a piece of dirt that he could use and throw away at will."

Her eyes hardened, her gaze wandering to the two novices who were crouching trembling in the corner of the room, their eyes wide with fear and fascination. "Do you see those two, Jack? They're young, they're innocent. But the Camerlengo would have taken them too. He would have set his dog Montagu on the two of them, and the dog would have fucked them until they sobbed and cried. Then he would have fucked them both mercilessly, the pig! The Camerlengo would have crushed them like one would crush a cockroach. I stopped him. I have the world from that bastard liberated."

Jack looked up. The power that radiated from Agnes, the raw, unvarnished malice, was the greatest aphrodisiac he had ever tasted. "You are a goddess, Agnes. A bloodthirsty, horny goddess." He pulled her close, his mouth found hers, and he kissed her wildly, their teeth clashing, it was not a kiss of love but a war, a battle for supremacy in sin.

Agnes responded to his passion, her nails clawing into his back, scratching his skin until small drops of blood escaped. "I enjoyed it, Jack. I enjoyed watching him die. I watched the poison eat him from the inside, as he writhed on the ground and gasped for air. I laughed as he took his last breath and let out his cursed soul."

Jack groaned, his hands went to her ass, he pulled her against him, his cock entered her already wet pussy. "Fuck me, you murderer. Fuck me like you killed him. Hard and without mercy."

Agnes laughed and rode him, her hips gyrating as she told him about the day the Camerlengo died. "I brought him the wine, like always. He looked at me, his eyes were full of greed. 'Tonight, Agnes,' he whispered, 'tonight I'll show you what a true whore is.' I just smiled and handed him the cup. He drank without hesitation. And then... then I watched."

Her movements became faster, wilder, she rode him like a fury, her face a mask of lust and hate. "He doubled over, Jack. He rolled on the floor, he reached for me, but I backed away. I just laughed. 'Hell awaits, you bastard,' I whispered. And then... then he was quiet."

Jack cried out, his body convulsing with the orgasm that ripped through him. He came, his hot cream filling her as she rode him, her head thrown back, a cry of triumph on her lips.

When they had calmed down, they lay next to each other in silence, the air thick with the smell of sex and death. The two novices had cowered in the corner, their eyes wide with shock.

Agnes was the first to move. She stood up and went to the two girls. "Don't be such cowards, you little lambs. Death is a part of life. And sin is a part of the soul. Our soul, your soul."

She pulled the redhead to her feet and kissed her, her tongue entering the girl's mouth. "You see, life is too short to spend it in fear. Take what you want. Do what you want. And if someone stands in your way... get them out of the way."

Jack laughed and stood up. "My Agnes, you are truly unique. A murderess and a goddess of pleasure. What should we do with you?"

They laughed, two ungodly sinners united in their love and sins.

"Oh, my sweet, perverted little fuck-madam, you're right, I missed the best part! I told you about the aunts and nieces, but not about the first, the most important, the woman who made me who I am: my mom. Agnes, my horny nun slut, sit down and hold on tight, because now comes the truth, raw and piggy, just as you love it.

It wasn't a single day, no, it was a slow slide into hell, a hell that smelled of soap and the smell of my mother. We've always showered naked together. When I was a little boy, she put me in the bathtub, her little hunchbacked boy, and soaped me from head to toe. Her hands were everywhere, washing my little nose, my hump, my tiny balls, and always, always hanging on to my little guy. "It's going to be something, my Jack," she whispered, her fingers stroking me until he hardened as best he could. "It will be as big as my daddy's, your grandfather's and sire's, a real gem with which you can make an entire army of women happy."

And she was right. Under her daily, sinful massage exercises, he grew and grew until he became the beauty he is today. She got me used to jerking me off three times in a row every morning in the shower. Three times, Agnes, do you hear? Every goddamn morning. Once slowly to wake him up. Quickly once to hunt him down. And one last time, deep and focused, until I shook and cummed onto the white tiles. "This is my pre-breakfast portion, my Jack," she would say as she pushed my cum down the drain with her foot. "My daily dose of sex-vitamins."

And then the morning came that changed everything. The night before had been long, she had been drinking with her friends, the rich, bored wives from the neighborhood, who lamented their husbands useless cocks and clumsy fuckings. Vodka, wine, whatever they could find. She came into the shower in the morning, staggering, her eyes red, her breath smelling of cheap alcohol and desperation. "Jack," she whispered, her voice as rough as sandpaper. "Today, my son... today I want more. I want you. I want to feel you inside me. Your damn fat cock, really inside me."

My heart was pounding, not from fear, no, from excitement. I knew this day would come. I carried the little plastic chair that she always used to shave her legs into the shower and stood on it. I was now tall enough that my cock was at the same height as her pussy when she bent over. "Come on, Mom," I said, my voice was deeper than usual. "Bend over and show me what you want."

She pinched at first, but then she leaned forward until her fingertips touched her toes. Her ass, a magnificent, round piece of flesh, stood before me. She pointed her finger at her ass. "You see, there's the bush underneath and in the middle of it is my fuckhole, little man. You have to fuck it for all you're worth. And at the end, of course, squirt directly into it, not on the tiles this time. I want to feel you, to feel you inside me, as I stagger through the day today."

I immediately understood what had to be done. I took my cock, which was already hard as a rock again, and placed it against her wet slit. I entered slowly, she moaned, a long, deep moan filled with pain and pleasure. "Yes, Jack, yes. That's it. Fuck your mom. Fuck her hard and deep."

And I fucked her, Agnes. I fucked her in a way I never fucked anyone before. I took her like a man takes a woman, with all the strength that was in my small, hunchbacked body. I pounded her until she screamed softly, until she cried, until she begged me to stop and in the next breath begged me to continue. And when I came, when I squirted my hot cream deep inside her, she just whispered: "My son... my dear, sinful son."

And since then, Agnes, I've been fucking her every goddamn morning since then. Sometimes in the shower, sometimes in her bed, sometimes on the kitchen table when we're both late. She is my first, my most important, my forever lover. And I wouldn't give her up for anything in the world. Because she is the one who made me what I am: a fucker without peer, a king of sin. And I will always love her for that.

Agnes's eyes glowed like coals in the dark as she drank in Jack's words. A wet heat radiated from her pussy and her fingers involuntarily went to her own clit as she imagined the scene with him and his mother. "You little goat, you have a whole harem behind you!" she laughed, her voice rough with excitement. "And your mom taught you like dad taught me. She made you the man you are: a fucker without equal."

Jack grinned, his pride swelling with his cock already hard again. "Of course, my horny Agnes. Mom always said a good cock has to be trained from the start. She brought me to perfection and then I conquered the world." He rubbed his nose, which was almost throbbing with excitement. "The aunts, they were pure pleasure. Aunt Lotte, Mom's oldest sister, the one with the huge tits, she always lured me into her cellar when Uncle Herbert was hunting. 'Jack, my little gnome,' she whispered, 'come and let Aunt Lotte feel what kind of man you already are.' And I took her, on the cold concrete floor, her tits jiggling like two jelly balls, until she screamed and I squirted all over her."

Agnes moaned, her fingers became faster. "And the nieces? Tell me about the nieces, you perverted goat!"

Jack's eyes narrowed, his voice becoming a greedy growl. "Oh, the cousins! Little pimply Susi, the one with the glasses and the pig-tail-braids, she looked so innocent until I pushed her in the hay. 'But Jack, we're related!' she cried while I rammed my beauty into her tight, virginal slit. 'That's exactly why I fuck you, little slut,' I replied, 'Blood is thicker than water, but my sperm is even thicker!' She screamed at the end, but not from pain, no, from pleasure, the poor little sinner."

Agnes laughed, a dirty, greedy laugh. "And the wives? The sex-hungry women from the apartment block?"

Jack grinned widely. "Oh, her! The caretaker's wife, she was the best. Her husband, a poor wretch with a cock like a worm, never satisfied her. Every Tuesday when he was at work I called her. A knock on her door and she was already there, in a thin dressing gown, nothing underneath. 'Jack, my savior,' she whispered, 'come and put me out of my misery!' And I redeemed her, on her marriage bed, on the kitchen floor, on the balcony, so that all the neighbors could see what kind of man she got."

Agnes winced under her own hand, her orgasm close. "And Suleika? The little Turkish girl? Why did you shy away from her, you coward?"

Jack's face became serious. "Oh, Suleika. That's a different story. Her eyes as dark as night, her body as delicate as a flower, black down down there. I wanted her, oh, and how I wanted her! But her father, Hassan, is a devil. A man with hands like shovels and a look that can melt a stone. I saw him beat up a boy in the alley who only whistled at her until the boy could hardly breathe. No, Agnes, the risk was too great. Some daughters are too hot, even for a fucker like me. Let the goat fucker castrate me? no thanks!"

Agnes laughed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "So you're a coward after all, my little gnome! But I love you anyway. And now I want you. I want you like your mom wanted you."

She pulled him close, her legs wrapped around his hips, and he pushed into her, deep and hard. "Fuck me, Jack! Fuck me like you fucked your mom! Fuck me like you fucked the aunts and the nieces and all the wives!"

Jack groaned, his pace became wilder, he rammed his cock deeper and deeper into her cunt until she screamed with pleasure. "Yes! Like that! Fuck me! Fuck me to death, you little devil!"

They came together, a scream from two throats, a crescendo of lust and sin. When they had calmed down, they lay next to each other in silence, the air thick with the smell of sex.

Agnes was the first to move. She got up and went to the window that overlooked the garden. "So you've built an entire empire of sin, my little gnome. An empire that only belongs to you."

Jack nodded and stood next to her. "Yes, Agnes. And now I want more. I want the whole village, the whole city. I want every woman, every virgin, every girl and every wife. I want to fuck them all, make them all my sluts."

Agnes laughed. "And what about me, my little gnome? Am I just one of many?"

Jack turned her to face him, his eyes burning. "No, Agnes. You are the queen. You are the queen of my kingdom of sin. And together we will rule."

They kissed, a kiss of conspiracy, a kiss that sealed a pact. A pact founded on lust and power, ready to take over the world, one slut at a time.

Jack woke up weeping. Agnes took him in her arms. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Jack wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. "They're tears of joy, Agnes. I just had a strange dream, that's all." Agnes kept pressing him. And Agnes kept digging and digging until he described everything to her in vivid, indecent images.

“I saw myself in the dream. As an old dwarf — a very old dwarf — on the seashore, just beyond Venice, with the sun beating down mercilessly.

And a beautiful angel took my cock in her fist and jerked me off while smiling gracefully.”

And my guardian angel — yes, my guardian angel — she jerked me off while laughing, for she was responsible for the salvation of my soul; ....

.... because they wouldn't let me through the Pearly Gates with balls so full of semen, she whispered. And it would be her responsibility to make my balls empty.

And sometimes it was someone else stepping in for her. Another beautiful angel, another beautiful girl with white wings. But heavens, they were all so skilled in the jerking-off-business!

She did it for me a dozen times in a row, and we both laughed because it was simply a fantastic act, jerking off and squirting like a baboon.

She didn't stop, letting me cum all over her beautiful breasts and murmuring for me to blast it all out at once!

Oh, it was a wonderful dream, not a nightmare. She made me cum again and again — once, twice, a hundred times.

There was one very young one who threw herself into the task so wholeheartedly that she pulled a face like a heavy worker — a truly fearsome sight. Yet she laughed, explaining that she wasn't angry, merely straining with intense concentration. Emptying one's balls, after all, was a serious and important business. In times past, too little attention had been paid to this, and the newcomers had pounced on all the saints, mating with them extensively and impregnating them liberally. Ever since then, Saint Peter has issued this edict: "Empty their balls!"

Sometimes an older lady would step in, and — whoosh — she’d do it with a flick of the wrist and then laugh out loud!
And sometimes a substitute would come along; I’d have to show her first exactly how I did it best, so she could get it right.

And some would lay me across their laps, like a baby; At first, it took some getting used to, but after that, I really enjoyed it.

I was absolutely blissful; I looked into her eyes and was filled with an extraordinary sense of joy. Some even let me twiddle their nipples, even though it left them with thoroughly engorged, throbbing clit — but they just laughed.

Oh, I was particularly fond of the older one; she did it with such effortless ease and laughed with a bell-like clarity whenever she let my juice splash onto her breasts. She remembered me on my Mom, when she had jerked me off."

And sometimes a very young girl-angel would sit down next to us, looking at our act for hours. My angel said she had to learn how to do it first."

And so I woke up with tears of joy; in my dream, I had covered your whole ass with my load, Agnes. "I could feel it, I could see it all — how it ran down my buttocks, half the night long, shot after shot, you rascal," whispered Agnes.

Both of them laughed heartily.

Agnes was chewing on a question; she didn't want to ask directly. Agnes' eyes lit up like those of a hungry cat that has just discovered a bowl of cream. Her fingers, which had just been scratching her own clit, froze in midair. "Oh, holy shit, Jack! Not only are you a fucker, you're also a perverted little rider! Not only is your mom spoiling her own pussy, she's also giving you the fresh lambs to slaughter!" She laughed, a dirty, greedy laugh that echoed around the room. "Tell me, you little gnome, tell me everything! I want to hear every detail about how you turn the lesbians into your subservient sluts!"

Jack grinned widely, his pride swelling with his already hardened cock. "Oh, Agnes, you don't understand. Mom doesn't give me anything, she just shares. And the girls, they're not lesbians, they just haven't gotten the taste yet. They think they just want the sweet nectar of another woman, but they don't know that they miss the hard, deep thrust of a real cock until they get it."

He leaned back, his hand stroking his hump like it was a trophy. "It's the same ritual every time. Mom rings my doorbell, her face lights up with excitement. 'Jack, my little one, I have a surprise for you!' And then there's this thing, usually a thin, pale-faced thing with short hair and a look that says, 'Men are disgusting.' I just grin and think, 'Wait a minute, you little naive.'"

Agnes scooted closer, her eyes becoming slits. "And then? What happens then, with Mom's perverted little tongue?"

"We go into the living room, Mom pours wine, expensive stuff, to lure the poor, confused girls. They talk about art, about feelings, about the oppression of the patriarchy, about the lame cocks of their rich but very old husbands. I don't say anything, I just sit there drinking my wine and watching them. I watch how their eyes wander to me, how they try to ignore me but can't. They see my hunchback, my big nose, and they feel... pity? No, it's something else. It's a perverted, unholy curiosity."

His hand went to his cock, which was already throbbing again under his hand. "And then the moment comes, Mom, the master of seduction, places her hand on the girl's thigh. 'You look so tense, my sweet,' she whispers. 'Let me relax you.' And then they kiss, first hesitantly, then more wildly, their hands wander, they take off their clothes, and then... then the clit licking begins."

Agnes moaned, her fingers finding themselves on her own slit again. "Describe it, Jack! Describe to me how they lick each other! Never did a girl lick my clit, never!"

Jack laughed, a deep, greedy laugh. "Oh, this is a spectacle, Agnes! Mom is an artist. Her tongue is a marvel. She dances the polka on the girl's clit, she licks, she sucks, she gently bites the labia until the girl is shaking and screaming like she's out of her mind. And I'm sitting there, my little Jack is getting bigger and bigger, I feel him pushing against the pants and I know he'll get his turn soon."

His gaze became intense, his voice dropping to a low, greedy whisper. "And then, when the girl is almost at her peak, when she's just a moan, a body screaming for release, that's when Mommy looks up at me. 'My Jack,' she whispers, 'come here. Show her how a real man can finish it well.'"

Agnes's breath came in ragged gasps and she masturbated faster. "And then? What happens then?"

"The girl looks suspicious at first, 'What does this 13-year-old want here?' she asks, her voice rough from screaming. But mom just smiles. 'Just be patient, you'll be amazed when my little one takes off his boxer shorts!' And I stand up, I take off my pants, and my cock pops out, hard and turgid and ready. And the girl's face, oh Agnes, the girl's face! It's a mix of shock, fear and... pure, unvarnished greed."

He laughed, a triumphant laugh. "I once asked mom if I could fuck her girl at the end? She just smiled and said, 'Of course, little one. But ask her yourself.' And I ask everyone when they see my cock for the first time."

Agnes winced under her own hand, her orgasm close. "And you fucked them? You fucked them all?"

Jack nodded, his gaze hardening. "But at some point my routine comes, Agnes. I fuck each of them into seventh heaven. Firstly, under my mom's critical gaze, a shiver runs down my spine. It's as if she's evaluating whether I'm doing it right, whether I'm fucking hard enough, whether I'm worth her gift. And secondly, when the girl inserts my cock with her hands for the first time inside her fuckhole, then it's like Christmas for each of them: shining eyes and glittering anticipation. But at some point my routine comes, I fuck each of them into seventh heaven. Jesus, mom had already licked her right up to that point."

He stood up, his cock standing stiff as a lance. "And like mom says, some just come back for my cock, my fucking. They call mom, they ask to meet, not with her, no, they want me. They want my cock, they want me to take them, hard and without mercy. And I give them what they want. I fuck them until they scream, until they cry, until they beg me to stop and in the next breath beg to keep going."

He walked over to Agnes, his cock throbbing with excitement. "And now, my horny nun slut, it's your turn. I want to fuck you while I tell you about the lesbians I've made my subservient sluts. I want to fuck you until you scream, until you beg, until you forget you ever wanted to be a holy nun."

He penetrated her, deep and hard, as he told her about the first lesbian he had taken, a thin, pale poet who had thought she was only for women until she felt his cock. And Agnes screamed, not from pain, no, from pleasure, a pleasure so perverse, so sinful that she knew she would go to hell for it. But she also knew it would be worth it. And shit to hell!

But then something unexpected happened. One morning while she was taking a shower, Agnes felt a strange nausea. She ran out of the shower, barely reaching the bucket in the corner before she threw up.

Jack stood next to her, his hand on her back. "Are you well, Sister Agnes?"

Agnes shook her head, her face pale. "I don't know. I feel... strange."

In the following days the nausea became worse. Agnes was losing weight, becoming weaker, and yet... she noticed that her habit was getting tighter, that her stomach was tightening.

One night she woke up with a sharp pain. She knew immediately what it was. The baby. Jack's baby.

She ran to Mother Superior, her temples covered in sweat. "Mother Superior! It's coming!"

The superior called for the other sisters, and soon Agnes was taken to her room. The contractions came quickly, violently, and Agnes screamed in pain.

Then, with one final scream, it was over. A small scream filled the room and Agnes held a small bundle in her arms.

A boy. A little hunchbacked boy with a big hooked nose.

The superior took the child and looked at it seriously. "There will be problems, Sister Agnes. Big problems."

Agnes knew she was right. A child born of a sinful union, in the heart of a monastery. But as she looked at the little face, she felt no remorse, only overwhelming love.

"What are we going to do?" she asked quietly.

The superior sighed. "I'll talk to Mrs. Van der Meer. Maybe... maybe she'll have a solution."

But Mrs. Van der Meer had no solution. She was angry, disappointed. "I didn't pay you to have a child, Sister Agnes! I paid you to take care of my son! — Pregnant! Pah!"

Agnes stood in front of the rich lady with a broken heart. "I... I didn't plan it. It just happened. God's unfathomable ways."

Mrs. Van der Meer laughed bitterly. "Nothing just happens, Sister Agnes. Everything is planned. And you failed."

With these words she turned around and left, leaving Agnes alone with her child.

In the following weeks, life in the monastery became hell for Agnes. The other sisters avoided her, the superior punished her with the harshest tasks, and yet... she had her child, her little Jack Jr., and that was all that mattered.

But then the day came when she had to make a decision. The superior called her into her office.

"Sister Agnes," she said bluntly. "You and your child cannot stay here. The monastery is no place for illegitimate children. Order from the new bishop."

Agnes' heart sank. "Where should I go?"

"Mrs. Van der Meer has offered to take you and the child in," the matron continued. "On one condition."

Agnes winced. “What condition?”

"You have to marry Jack."

Agnes stared at her in disbelief. "Marry? But... he's... and I'm a nun!"

"You were a nun," the superior corrected coolly. "You broke your vow, Sister Agnes. This is the consequence."

Agnes knew she had no choice. She had to take this step for the love of her child, for his future. God's unfathomable wisdom.

The wedding was a small, quiet affair, with just her, Jack and Mrs. Van der Meer in attendance. Jack smiled as he put the ring on her.

"You will be a good wife, Sister Agnes," he whispered. "Or should I say, Agnes?"

Agnes nodded, tears in her eyes. Tears of joy? The grief? She didn't know anymore.

In the following years they lived in Mrs. Van der Meer's large house. Jack's mother treated Agnes like a farmhand, and Jack... Jack was Jack. He demanded his rights every night, and Agnes gave him what he wanted, joyfully and with full hands.

But she had her child, her little Jack Jr., and that was all that mattered. He was her anchor in this world of sin and pain.

When Jack Jr. was five years old, Mrs. Van der Meer died. In her will she left the entire estate to Jack, with a small allowance for Agnes and her child.

Jack was now a rich man, and he changed. He became crueler, more demanding, and Agnes suffered under his rule. She had to let his friends fuck her like a cheap whore. Jack loved her, he never wanted to humiliate her. He was just of the mistaken opinion that his Agnes was entitled to a whole series of hard cocks because he transferred his sexual intemperance to her. She kept insisting that his magnificent battering ram was more than enough for her, but he shook his head resolutely: "A good woman like you needs to be fucked properly, by the whole company!" And he made sure that they were only good, honest friends and only those who knew how to fuck a girl well. And because one cock alone wasn't enough, it was usually three or four good friends who fucked good Agnes. Jack was happy with himself and the world, he gave Agnes not just his cock, but dozens of other cocks. For years it went like this, once a month or every 6 weeks. Agnes always started with a negative, reluctant feeling, but as the fucking progressed her loins woke up and she cried tears of joy because in the end it was damn good for her cunt.

She then lowered her eyes shyly to the floor and was usually completely exhausted after such an evening of raging orgasms.

"Oh, Agnes, you horny, inexperienced nun-cunt! Five years! You spent five goddamn years apprenticed to Jack’s mom — not to pray, no, but to become a master of dirty, female lust! Jack’s mom, that perverted, seasoned old broad, didn’t just school you; she transformed you into a true lesbian goddess — the kind who can kill a woman with just her clit if she wants to!

You think it was gentle, Agnes? You think it was all cuddling and tenderness? Fuck off! It was a dirty, brutal drill! Jack’s mom threw you onto the kitchen floor, spread your legs, and showed you what it means to be devoured. Her tongue, Agnes — her tongue wasn't some gentle little lamb; no, it was a venomous snake burrowing into your wettest crevices! She licked you until you screamed, until you writhed like a worm on a hook, until you prayed for her to stop — and in the very same breath, prayed she’d never stop. She sucked your clit like she wanted to suck out your soul, and you loved it, you little slut! You loved being taken by a woman — a woman who knew exactly where it hurts and where it feels best!

And the girlfriends! Oh God, the girlfriends! Jack’s mom didn’t just keep you for herself; she lent you out, too! She’d toss you into the room like a piece of meat and shout: 'Feast, you wolves!'" "Devour the little nun!" And devour you they did, Agnes! The slender galerist with the long fingers who knew just how to massage your G-spot until you writhed in the throes of orgasm. The athletic trainer with thighs of steel who clamped you between her legs and pressed her face against your pussy until you were nearly suffocated by her juices and your own ravenous desire. The married mother of three, so desperate for something new that she fucked you like a wild animal — with fingers, with her tongue, with everything she had — until the bed was soaked with your fluids and your tears of lust.

And you, Agnes — you learned! You learned how to make a woman scream, how to make her beg, how to transform her into something she had never been before. You became a student — a master apprentice of carnal pleasure — and Jack’s mom was proud of you, her little, sinful protégée.

But now — now you sit here, musing on what you had back at the convent. You think of the Bishop, that gentle old man who treated you like a daughter — a daughter he was committing incest with. His small, tame cock that you loved to strip bare; the gentle way he rode you until he fell asleep as peacefully as a baby. You think of the Camerlengo, that bastard who took you like a thief in the night. He fucked you without asking; he treated you like dirt — but his cock, Agnes, his cock! It was hard, it was ruthless; he fucked you through and through until you felt nothing but the pain and the filthy, filthy lust that swept you away.

And then — then you think of Montagu! The dog! The Great Dane! You saw it, Agnes! You were forced to watch as the Camerlengo dragged a shy novice into the convent garden, as he yanked her habit up over her head, as he set the dog on her. And the dog — oh God, the dog! The male dog took her the way a dog takes a bitch: fast, hard, relentless. You heard her weeping, her moaning, and you felt a moist heat rising in your own pussy. You understood, Agnes — in that moment, you understood. It isn’t about tenderness; it isn’t about love, either. It’s about raw, unvarnished, animal lust. It’s about the rush you get from doing something so damn wrong that it feels more right than anything else. — And of course, you felt Montagu’s cock too — fucking you at breakneck speed, like a sewing machine, and squirting a bit of watery fluid inside you.

And now — now you sit here, a mistress of female pleasure, knowing you’ve experienced it all. You had the Bishop’s tender love, the Camerlengo’s hard, ruthless lust, and those perverse games with the male dog. You had that intensive training from Jack’s mom — the knowledge that turns a woman into a goddess. You are a hodgepodge of perversions, a walking encyclopedia of sin, and you know there’s nothing you couldn’t do, nothing left that could shock you.

You are the queen, Agnes. The queen of sin. And now — now you want to go back. You want to return to the convent — not to pray, no, but to rule. To school the novices, to fuck that damned Mother Superior, to turn the whole goddamn convent into a palace of orgies. And I — Jack — I’ll help you. Because we’re a team, you and I. We are the greatest sin the world has ever seen. And we’re going to have a hell of a time. Oh yes, we’re going to have a goddamn blast."

But then, one day, it all came to an end. Jack had an accident — a fall down the stairs — and he was dead.

Agnes didn’t cry. She felt only relief. No more gang-bangs — though, later on, she did miss that terribly.

With the money from the will, she bought a small house on the outskirts of town, far from anything that reminded her of her past. She moved in with her son and began a new life as an herbalist.

Sometimes, on nights that lasted for hours, she thought about the monastery, about Mother Superior, about her time as a nun. She thought of Jack, the little hunchbacked gnome with the big nose and huge cock, and she smiled. He had given her thousands of orgasms, and she thought in love of him when her finger went visiting the fluffy down between her thighs — with the best of intentions, of course.

It was a sinful time, a time of guilt and sin. She asked Jack's friends, one and the other, to come over for a cup of tea. So it also became a time of life, a lot of shagging and passion. And she wouldn't trade them for anything in the world.

Because in this life of sin, in this life of mischief, she had found the most important thing: love for her child, Jack Jr. And that was all that mattered. She cared for him well, caring for his big cock carefully and diligently, like Jack's mom had done. And when he was old enough, then...