Rendevous at the Monastery

[sirhugs]

He and She have been married to other people forever. each year, they spend time at a retreat at an isolated monastery. Though the retreat is silent 23 hours per day, they share long linger looks....

In an alternate version, she is a novice nun and it is a convent, which is so desperate for dollars it allows men to attend retreats...

Or the combo plan... option A, with a novice serving as messenger, then joining in?

If you wanted to avoid the LW stigma, the hot action starts the season she's there to get over her divorce...

 

[Carnevil9]

I like the idea of them having sex, but struggling to still obey the "vow of silence" all the while.

 

[jeninflorida]

He and She have been married to other people forever. each year, they spend time at a retreat at an isolated monastery. Though the retreat is silent 23 hours per day, they share long linger looks....

In an alternate version, she is a novice nun and it is a convent, which is so desperate for dollars it allows men to attend retreats...

Or the combo plan... option A, with a novice serving as messenger, then joining in?

If you wanted to avoid the LW stigma, the hot action starts the season she's there to get over her divorce...

what if, while at the monastery they have to be nude?

 

[sirhugs]

what if, while at the monastery they have to be nude?

tough to rationalize maybe?
unless its part of some self actualization experiment?

or maybe they all wear only loose fitting lightweight off white cotton caftan sorta garments - no underwear allowed? And theyy become translucent in sunshine?

 

[jeninflorida]

tough to rationalize maybe?
unless its part of some self actualization experiment?

or maybe they all wear only loose fitting lightweight off white cotton caftan sorta garments - no underwear allowed? And theyy become translucent in sunshine?

or for the person to be clean, and come to God, nothing should be between them and God, hence no clothing.

just a thought

 

[sirhugs]

or for the person to be clean, and come to God, nothing should be between them and God, hence no clothing.

just a thought

sounds new ageish...more ashram than monastery.

 

[Nancydreamz]

Maybe it is an occult cult,far away from outside world. You have joined...and the cult leader assigns me to take you around... Our clothing is a simple white loose robe, transparent one.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

perhaps...?

She was on her own in Europe, and more than happy about it. With her BA complete, magna cum laude, no less, and her father’s more than ample cash flow, she had no concern about current expenses or future studies. But she wanted to head to graduate school with something special.

Her honors thesis had been on medieval illuminations, and she would continue that. But now she would do it with the widest collection of originals, those the whole of Europe offered. And more so, she hoped.

She had left LA in May, and was in the third month of her European tour, part of a two-year research project. What she truly wanted, though, was something new, a manuscript, or, even better, a whole library of unknown illuminated books. And so, while she visited all the key collections, she was constantly on the lookout for an obscure monastery that might house her dream.

She left Venezia at dawn this day, heading north on her way through the Dolomites towards Austria, scouring the hills as she drove, looking for any religious houses not listed in her inventory. As she turned a bend in a valley, she spied a campanile high up the mountain side. It was in her view for but an instant, and then it was obscured by cliffs. There were no others on the road, so she threw the Porsche into reverse until it came back in view.

It was, indeed, there, and not on any of her maps or lists. A monastery seemed to be there as well, so she left the autoroute at the next exit and plotted a course that she thought would bring her there.

Two hours, and some hairpin turns on dirt roads later, she pulled over at the entrance to the compound.

She knew how to travel in Europe, and how to get into religious centers. She wore tank tops,(low-cut), demi bras (push-ups), and skirts (short-hemmed), to impress the guards at major sites (just harmless social flirting, she explained to herself) and carried a black lace mantilla to “properly” cover her head and shoulders when she entered a church, convent, or monastery. On with the mantilla, then, as she entered the church.

A monk greeted her at the door - her arrival was obviously noted - and asked what she wanted. He was garbed in Franciscan style, brown rough robe held at the waist by a length of twisted rope, sandals on his feet. She answered in passable Italian, but her California accent was unmistakable.

“Si, signorina,” he said, “but we do speak English here as well as Italian; I think you will be more comfortable in your own tongue.” Then he added, “we do have a small library, and it holds some old illuminations. You are welcome to see it.”

She noticed his eyes gazing through the lace of the mantilla at her cleavage; “how cute,” she thought, “this monk seems no different than a carabinieri. “ She followed him from the church into the monastery and up a flight of stairs to a small reading room.

He offered her a seat at an ancient oaken table and left, returning with some leather-bound manuscripts and a pair of white cotton gloves.

“Here are a few for you to peruse, signorina, but you’ll have to...” He stopped as he realized she had already donned her own white cotton gloves; he saw she was a serious researcher. “I’ll fetch more, if you wish, when you finish with these.”

He stood by as she became engrossed in her discoveries; there were illustrations unlike any she had seen before. She wondered to herself if they could be from any of the numerous wild and licentious heretical sects of the region in medieval times. So engrossed in the books was she that she didn’t realize he had come up behind her until a noose of rough rope was thrown over her head and around her neck.

She leaped up in fear, and the monk yanked on the rope, pulling her backwards and overturning the chair. She lost her balance and hung from his hand now, the rope taut across her throat. He stood her on her feet, and she began to struggle, fighting against his grip, pulling at the rope and at his hands. His long and powerful fingers overcame her wild grasping, and he took hold of her left hand, twisting it behind her back and looping one end of the rope from her neck around it. She screamed, now, as loud and as long as she could, and tried desperately to keep her right hand free of his grip. Her success was pyrrhic, though; her hand stayed free, but he looped the rope around her elbow and pulled the arm high up her back.

With her arms tied to the noose around her neck, her struggles only served to choke her even more; still screaming, she attempted to make use of her feet. She stomped blindly, missing his feet twice before finally striking his instep. He laughed at her attack as he reached both hands around her chest to tear open her tank top. Her chest heaved out with her head and arms pulled back, and her breasts were open targets. He took hold of the sides of her bra and yanked the cups down over her nipples. Now his hands found her naked breasts, and she screamed again, this time in pain, as he clawed at her flesh and tore at her nipples.

Tears began to flow as he pulled downward on her tits, forcing her to her knees. She squeezed her legs tightly together to protect herself from rape, but as he knelt with her, he placed his knees on the outside of her legs and squeezed them together even tighter. His yanked the skirt up over her ass and tore her panties away from his target. His sackcloth robe brushed over her cheeks as he opened it, and she groaned as she felt his cock hard and wet against her.

He moved it to her tightly puckered hole and pressed for entry. She tightened against his assault, but he pressed harder, and harder, until her ass began to yield. The juice on his cock tip allowed it to start into her, and with more thrust, the whole head burst into her virginal asshole. His moan of pleasure was drowned out by her desperate scream of pain, a scream which seemed only to arouse him more. He pulled back, all the way out again, to feel her as stretch around his cock. Now she merely groaned. But he thrust again for the pleasure of entry, distending her once more until he could burst in and then feel her anal ring tight around his shaft as he stroked in and out of her now-bleeding hole.

She screamed again and again with each thrust, knowing there must be somebody near, some other monk at least, to save her. And so there was. As she lay on the floor, the monk’s thrusts scraping her face and breasts back and forth over the hard stone, she saw a pair of sandaled feet approach.

“What are you doing, Fra Salvatore?” asked the new arrival.

“Fucking this whore in the ass, Fra Giovanni,” the first monk replied.

“Have you forgotten your vows, Brother?” he was asked, “Do we not hold all things in common.?”

“Yes, Brother,” the first answered, “please help yourself to whatever you wish.”

Her heart sank as the second monk sank to his knees at her head. She felt the swish of his robe as it opened and then the heat of his cock on the back of her head. As she squirmed against the painful strokes in her ass, her hair in its lace mantilla stroked this new cock, stiffening it more.

“Her mouth, Brother?” asked the first, “be careful; she fights and may bite!”

The newcomer tore a piece from her mantilla, and, with his other hand, grabbed her by her now-uncovered hair to raise her head. She shut her mouth as tight as she could, but he closed her nose with the hand that held the mantilla until she had to open her mouth to breathe. As soon as her lips parted, he began to stuff the mantilla into one side of her mouth. Soon it was filled and she realized she could no longer keep him out nor do anything once he was in.

He took his cock in his free hand now while the other held her head up, and he brought it to her lips. Then he released her hair so her head would fall, driving her lips over his massive cock. She tried to scream, but the cock filled her mouth and muffled all her sounds.

Now they both began to drive in and out of her, one at each end, sometimes in concert, other times alternately, and all she could do was cry and sob. The first suddenly gasped and speeded up his strokes, and finally stiffening as he drove his cock in up to his root while he pulled her hips to drive her tight against him. His semen spurted inside her again and again, and she could feel each glob as it forced its way up his shaft and through the tight grip of her ring. The second now took her head in both hands, raising and lowering it rapidly to stroke his cock. Faster and faster, and deeper and deeper into her throat it went until she was gagging and gasping for breath. Then he drove deep while pushing her head down so her lips surrounded his root, and he came, jet after jet of hot cum crashing against the back of her throat, choking her and forcing her to let it flow straight down her gullet without swallowing.

Drained, they both withdrew and stood, leaving her sobbing on the stony floor while they discussed what next to do with this new addition to the cloister.

The monks’ discussion of the girl was interrupted by the arrival of the Abbot of the monastery.

“Che stai combinando?” he asked of the two.

“We were...” began Fra Salvatore.

“I can see that,” shouted the Abbot, “but both of you?”

“Si, your reverence; I had her ass,” replied the monk, “and Fra Giovanni was in her mouth.”

“And you left her there on the floor?” demanded the Abbot; “help her up right now! Get that rope off her! And take out whatever that is in her mouth!”

“Come ti chiami?” he asked as the girl was lifted to her feet and untied.

“M-M-Maria,” she stammered through her sobs, “mi hanno v-v-v-violentata, Signore.”

“Nonsense, Maria,” he said, “they told me they weren’t in your vagina.”

“But you, Brothers, look at this! You’ve been screwing around with this girl while our precious manuscripts are out on the table,” complained their superior.

“Fra Salvatore, you’re the librarian; put the books back in their places,” he ordered.

Then he looked at Maria, her tank top and mantilla hanging in tatters, her demi bra useless beneath her tits, her tight skirt still stuck up at her waist. “And this girl, Brothers,” he said, “you’ve left her half undressed!”

He glowered at the other monk: “Fra Giovanni, finish the job, and then get her on the table!”

Maria stood in shock as Brother Giovanni tore off the rest of her tank top and then undid the clasp of her bra. A bit of composure returned as he began to unzip her skirt, and she began to struggle. Brother Salvatore returned from the books and joined his colleague in controlling the girl.

Skirt off now, they dragged her squirming and twisting body to the table and threw her on her back. She kicked and punched, grabbed and clawed as she tried to get back on her feet, but the monks were too strong. They stood on either side of the table, and each took her wrist and ankle on his side and held her down.

“Molto bene,” the Abbot said approvingly as he approached the table, “Now spread her legs wide for me.”

He opened his robe and positioned his stiff cock just inside her labia, right at the vestibula vaginae, and paused.

“Attentzione, Maria,” he said as he thrust his cock hard into her, “now you are being raped. See it is different than before. Capisce?”

She struggled, twisting and turning in a vain attempt to free her pussy of the Abbot’s cock as he drove himself in and out of her.

“Ahhhh,” he moaned, “she feels so good twisting her cunt around me like that.”

Now Maria changed her strategy; she was being raped anyway, why give him pleasure. She fell limp on the table and ignored his thrusts. But the Abbot saw through it; he knew it wasn’t acceptance that ceased her fight. He thrust as deep as he could, stretching her sheath to its limits, and then seized one of her nipples in each hand. He twisted and pulled, turning her from side to side and lifting her from the table with her nipples until she screamed in pain and fought again.

“Bene, bene,” he moaned as her pained gyrations did their work. A final yank, pulling her towards him by her tits, and his cock erupted, spewing hot semen against the rear wall of her vagina. He pulled his cock out, and wiped the last of his cum into the narrow strip of hair that covered her mound.

“What should we do with her, Father Abbot?” Giovanni asked.

“She’s a lovely little whore, I think,” he said, “very nice cunt and big tits. Pretty face. Nice shape. Maybe we should keep her.” “Fra Salvatore,” he continued, “you had her ass; was it good?”

“Very good, Abbot,” he replied, “Full and round with a real tight hole.”

“Then it’s settled,” concluded the Abbot. "she'll go to the convent; the Sisters will take care of her.”

“What do they do with girls there?” asked Fra Giovanni.

“I don’t know,” said the Abbot, “that’s Mother Superior’s business. But I guess Maria will soon find out. Maybe she’ll tell you if you see her again. Guard her now until the Nuns arrive.”

“Ciao, Maria,” he said to her as he left, “fino alla sera, mia schiava bella.”