The Mercy of a Sadist

[Honey_B]

France, 1790

In an abbey just outside Paris, a candle burns well after midnight. It illuminates a pretty young postulant named Isabelle, fingering her rosary. "Mon Dieu," she cries out loud. For the hand of Sister Mary Catherine is having its way with the girl's swollen cunt, sending her into spasms of lust.

They felt rather than saw the heavy wood door swing open. The night wind made the candle flicker.

"What in the name of all that's holy is going on her?" It was the Abbess, a tall, stern woman in her late thirties.

Sister Mary Catherine looked up. "I'm just introducing Mademoiselle Isabelle to the ways of our order, Reverend Mother."

"Very well," said the Abbess. "Carry on."

Unbeknownst to the nuns, three men approach on horseback. The leader is Hubert Donatien de Sade, a nephew and disciple of the famous Marquis. De Sade and his companions flee from the Reign of Terror, desperate to go into hiding. The trio dismount and even in moonlight one can see their wicked grins.

OOC: First let apologize in advance for any offense this thread may cause to followers of the Catholic faith. The nun's order is unnamed and factious as is the story. Please consider this a flight of fancy of a lapsed Catholic.

I will write the part of the Abbess. The other parts are:

Sister Mary Catherine, 25 years old
Isabelle, 18 years old
Hubert Donatien de Sade and his two companions

 

[ariosto]

The great bay horse is in a lather as Hubert de Sade pulls it up short and dismounts in the moon shadowed convent courtyard.
The other riders rein in their tired mounts and nearly fall from the saddles.
It's been a hard long ride from Paris and just a one step ahead of Robespierre's thugs.

"You know we are safe here, deSade?"
He helped the big man down from his saddle,
"Indeed Comté quite safe. I've known the Abbess for years."
A knowing look and sly smile passed between Hubert and the third man who busied himself with the leather bags on his mounts withers.

"Not only shall we be safe from the rabble here, I think dear Comté we will find the experience...rewarding."
The third man laughed, the heavy cross hanging from his neck gleaming in the moonlight.
"Oh yes indeed. To say the least De Sade, to say the least."
Hubert strode over to the heavy wooden door and pulled the bell chime twice then waited a few seconds and twice more.

Upstairs in the Abbess' room a lamp shone.


OOC...Hubert, is tall and lean, his features are handsome but somewhat coarsey drawn. His hair is worn long , dark with a touch of grey. His eyes are also dark and deep as the pits of hell.
He is a man of tremendous strength and thoroughly schooled in his Uncles 'arts'.
He and his companions have been listed by the Jacobins and all will face the guillotine if apprehended.

 

[Marigold]

If the part of Isabelle is not spoken for, might I give it a try?

 

[ariosto]

BUMP....Come on guys!
It's DeSade for Goodness sakes!

 

[Merelan]

OCC: Hope no one minds. And pardon any mistake when it comes to religion as such. I am not Catholic and not totally up to snuff on the terms.
IC:
Sister Mary Catherine. 25, as stated. She had arrived just two years ago. Fresh, young, virginal. Her thoughts full of service and dedication to her church. Her body and soul given over the care of the Abbess. Within six months she was in her bed. A natural gift for the arts of pleasing a woman. Yet, the Abbess had not let her lose her virginity. Saving it for a special time. Now Sister Mary's thoughts are no longer on her religion, or I should say her old one. Her new religion is pleasure. A tease, a flirt, which is why she was sent by her Step Mother to this place. To keep her from wedding and getting the enormous fortune that should be hers. Once that had upset Sister Mary. now all she cares for is her need, the passion the Abbess has awoken in her. Though she loves her, proving it daily on her body, she is still rebellious and has needed special punishment, and learned that the pain from Abbess' spankings only enflames her more.
Today she had again disobeyed the Abbess, but it looked like she would get away with it. The new noviciate, Isabelle, had been to sweet and innocent for Sister Mary to leave alone. The two months she had been here had been one's of loneliness, till Sister Mary befriended her. Now she was being pleasured by her hand. Sister Mary watched her face, her eyes. Knowing she was feeling damned, yet unable to deny the waves of pleasure sweeping over her.
What had started as a girl talk about the rules and robes they had to wear had evovled into this. Slowly Sister Mary had undressed her, to show her how they fit. For soon Isabelle would be taking her vows. She clung to the body holding her, her cries forced from her berry lips. her breasts rubbing against the roughness of Sister Mary's robe.
"Cum again Isabelle. Cum for me." The interruption by the Abbess having gone unoticed by Isabelle.

 

[Marigold]

Isabelle

Isabelle sat gasping on her narrow bed, Sister Mary Catherine supporting the young girl’s lolling head on her shoulder. Isabelle, when out of her concealing habit, was almost sinfully pretty, with dark hair and eyes that spoke of a Mediterranean heritage, rather than the pale Gallic features of most Frenchwomen. Her lips were full and red, her eyes large in her small face. Her skin was neither fair nor dark, but it was flawless and silken and almost begged to be touched. Her hips were round, her waist tiny, and her breasts wonderfully plump and soft-looking. There was something almost obscene about Isabelle’s teats, with their large, dusky red nipples and areolas that looked swollen somehow, as if they had just been suckled.

The sinful lushness of her physical being belied her nature, however. Isabelle was a good girl, the sixth daughter of a God-fearing minor nobleman. Papa had too many daughters to dower, and what better gift to offer the Church than his lovely youngest, the pride of the family? She had been raised to be chaste and modest, and had a sweet nature that endeared her to all who knew her.

When Sister Mary had begun to undress her, she had stood shamefaced, and yet also somehow excited. No one had seen her private places since she had been a baby. Mary Catherine had been so kind to her, easing her loneliness in this new and sometimes frightening life. Isabelle adored her, looked up to her. When her hands had begun to roam Isabelle’s virginal body, the girl had submitted to her wisdom, thinking she surely knew what was right and wrong better than Isabelle herself did. Mary had instructed her to sit on her cot, and her hand had gone between Isabelle’s legs. As the older nun’s fingers had found the swollen, throbbing nub hidden in her dripping folds, Isabelle had cried out in ecstasy. Never had she imagined such a wonderful feeling as this. The older woman’s fingers began to circle Isabelle’s clit urgently, and the girl was lost to helpless shudders of pleasure, unable to stop the events unfolding even though she realized that letting herself be touched in this way was a sin. Her fingers closed around her rosary. “Mon Dieu!” she cried as her first orgasm tore through her body. She was too caught up in the waves of her wanton, sinful pleasure to notice the Abbess peeking into the room.

"Cum again, Isabelle. Cum for me." Mary Catherine tweaked her nipple almost painfully and Isabelle found herself spinning into another climax even as the first receded. She did not know how long she sat like that, her legs splayed open shamelessly, Mary Catherine’s cruel fingers coaxing orgasm after orgasm from the young girl’s swollen virgin cunt. After what seemed an eternity, her large clit could endure no more, and she slumped helplessly against the other nun, sobbing her shame into her shoulder. Her little puss still throbbed from the aftershocks, oozing her juices so they ran down the cleft of her rear to puddle on the rough woolen blanket below.

She turned her tearstained face to the other woman. “What have I done, Sister? What have I done?”

 

[ariosto]

de Sade

When the door to the inner courtyard opened, deSade brushed by the young noviciate and yelled back over his shoulder...
"Armand give the horses to the little virgin here and I'll meet you inside."

He paused and then turned, grabbing the drowsy girl in his strong arms, bending her back painfully and kissing her with a serpents tongue sweeping the inside of her startled mouth.
"Very sweet." He said pulling away.

"Hide these beasts of ours little sister. Hide them well or I'll skin you alive."
His eyes glittered like the cold stars above.

"Why DeSade, shame on you. You'll frighten the poor thing to death."
Armand was standing beside him with the Comté and the horses in tow.
DeSade gave his friend a rough hug and a slap on the back, then strode towards the shadowed front door. It opened for him and he found himself facing the Abess. Beautiful as always, she had been a confidante of his Uncle once and De Sade
knew from his own experience what a lust filled
creature she was.

 

[Honey_B]

The Abbess removed her wimple and shook her long hair. Shimmering waves of warm chestnut fell to her waist in a thick curtain. These flowing tresses were just one of many vices embraced by the Abbess. She had made a career out of subverting the strictures of the religious order. Now, very little in her abbey actually resembled conventional nunneries. True, it was a sanctuary for women, but that is where the similarities ended.

With efficient movement, the Abbess undressed and pulled on a crisp white cotton nightdress. Her fingers flew over the tiny mother-of-pearl buttons that ran from neck to toe. Before she could finish fastening the tiny closures, a knock came at the door.

"Enter," her throaty voice commanded.

A little maid enter her chamber. "Madame! Men are in the courtyard, trois, I think. They mean to come into the Abbey!"

Forgetting her state of déhabiller, the Abbess took the candle from the surprised maid's hand. Brushing past the girl, she walked quickly down the halls, heading towards the entrance of the abbey. Her face a mask of unshakable calm, she refused to feel the alarm that had settled over the cloister. The danger was real. The men could very well be Jacobins, sent to destroy the abbey.

She swept into the entry hall, the white cotton of her gown billowing out around her. The Abbess stopped dead in her tracks. Her candle fell from her hand and clattered across the dusky stone of the floor.

"Celeste Moreau!" DeSade said, coloring her name with his dark charm.

The name sounded unfamiliar to the Abbess's ears. She had not been called Celeste Moreau for so long. Recovering a semblance of composure, she walked toward the man she had not seen for almost ten years; the man who had been the reason for her entering a convent.

"Bon soir, Hubert. To what do I owe this pleasure." The venomous sarcasm was lost on no one in the room.

 

[Merelan]

Sister Mary:

Her body was so perfect. Her anguish so real.

“What have I done, Sister? What have I done?” I smiled and cuddled her close.

"Taken the next step toward being a woman." Brushing her curls from her face, stroking her cheek. nuzzling her ear. Then, with a whisper.

"Did you not feel closer to heaven dear?" But then the bells rang. But my inner clock told me this was wrong. it was not time for anything. Alarm. Soldiers. I knew that must be. Men.

"Come, quickly. We must dress again, and get to the chapel." My hands already drawing her robes back on, and tucking her curls back under her veil. The chapel had a hidden door which led to the cellers beneath. Unused for centuries. Never having been in it, but having been told and warned in times of trouble that was where we hid the sacrements, and us.
Through the corridors i led her, trying to stay hidden. Her body trembling with fear, her hand cold, yet sweaty. We would have to dash across the courtyard, but there were voices. Hiding her in the corner with my body I stood silent. Waiting for them to pass.

 

[Marigold]

Isabelle

She was comforted by the Sister's words, as a child would believe its Mama telling it everything was going to come out right. Isabelle saw no condemnation in Mary Catherine's eyes.

Then the bells rang and Mary dressed her as if she were that selfsame child. With her knees still trembling from the aftershocks of her pleasure, Isabelle let herself be dragged through the Abbey dazedly. What was happening? Had the revoultionaries come to kill them all? Fear slowly replaced the lassitude the climaxes had left in their wake.

They paused near the courtyard, hearing voices. Her fear becoming an uncontrollable force, Isabelle said on a note of panic, "Sister? What is it? What is happening?"

 

[ariosto]

The dark shadows of two horsemen stood by their mounts and a young noviciate, a friend of Isabella's stood between them.
It seemed as though...It seemed as though they were...NON!
The young girl made to turn and run but Sister Mary stayed her.
"Shhhhhhh" she said kneeling low. "Get down girl, let's watch them."

The voices they had heard were coming from within the shuttered window,

"Bon soir, Hubert. To what do I owe this pleasure." It was the Abbess.

"How odd Celeste to find you here...a NUN for God's sake!"
DeSade's laughter seemed heartfelt, deep and rich.

The sound of a slap, a hard one.
"Pig!...After you...you..."

Hubert took her upraised hand in his, turned it...kissed it.
"How many years I have repented my deeds, my injustices, my..."

"Cruelty!...I think that's the word you seek."
Her face was flushed with crimson and bathed in gold by the candlelight. DeSAde smothered her words in a long deep kiss that broke through the barrier of her lips and entered into her warm sweet mouth to find and carress her...
"Ahhhh God, Hubert you havn't changed. You havn't changed at all."

She made no effort to break away from him even though the strength of his arousal was pressing hot against her legs.

"No My dear Abbess I have not changed.
In fact..."
His smile was wicked,

"In fact I have come to take up the play exactly where I left it."

Huddled beneath the window, Isabella could not help shivering at the tone of the Marquis voice.

 

[Merelan]

Sister Mary:
I dragged Isabella to the ground, my hand over her mouth. Thhere was no way to escape without him seeing. And somehow I needed to know what he was doing here. And how Abbess knew him. Grabbing her and silencing her with a kiss. My eyes wide. I wasn't innocent anymore, but who was he. This arrogant man with the cold eyes and cruel smile.

 

[ariosto]

OOC...We are still in need of two more male players, would any of you ladies object to me playing the part of Armand as well as De Sade until we recruit one or two others?

 

[Marigold]

Isabelle

OOC: I don't mind you playing both parts a bit.

IC: Sister Mary Dragged to the ground and Isabelle yelped a bit in surprise. She settled her lips over the girl's to silence her but instead coaxed forth a little moan. Isabelle watched Mary as she drew away with a speculative look on her face. The other nun's eyes darted into the dark, trying to pierce the blackness, and it was all Isabelle could do to remain still, but she managed it. She listened to the voices in the night and wondered who they belonged to.

 

[BLACK BART]

perhaps....

OOC: I could save you the trouble? And play Armand...If no has any objections? I will delete this posting if anyone wishes....

Armand, a life long companion of Hubert, their lives have been bound together many years ago. A horseman, and an interested student of DeSade's teachings, he follows his friend out of loyalty, and for the adventure...Wide in the shoulders, and lean hipped, he is of average height. Wearing his hair long, as is the custom of peasants, his dark skin and eyes give him a sleepy appearance...


IC: Handing the reins away, Armand turns his wide shouldered frame to the third man, and releives him of the heavy leather bags. Hefting their considerable weight in one hand, he grins, saying "Only a DeSade would dream of hiding here,where all live above suspect, Oui?"

Getting a grin and a shake of the head in reply, he turns towards the sounds of a muffled squeal and something moving in the hay mound.

"Must be wild animals, playing in the yard" He says out loud, as he passes by, heading for the doorway that DeSade and the Abbess had passed thru

 

[Honey_B]

The Abbess

"In fact I have come to take up the play exactly where I left it."

"Exactly where you left it? You mean before you threw me away?" Celeste scoffed. "I am a nun only because I feared for my sanity ten years ago. You transformed me and then left me. I needed sanctuary from the very thought of you. I needed to escape the world of men!" The Abbess stopped speaking. She had become aware that all of the eyes and ears of the abbey were probably trained on her conversation with the mysterious stranger. She could not go on speaking to him in the open.

"I will only continue this conversation with you in my office," the Abbess said with iron in her voice. She looked at DeSade's companions wearily. "Your friends will have to stay here. I trust that they will behave as gentlemen."

"You have my word, Celeste," DeSade said to the Abbess.

"My office is this way," she said before walking towards the corridor from which she had come. She missed the look that DeSade shot Armand. Something communicated between the two men and Armand smiled.

DeSade followed the Abbess through the long corridors. She stopped at the door next to her bedroom and opened it. Lined with books on three sides, the study was much more comfortable than one would expect in an abbey.

The Abbess turned to Hubert as soon she closed the door. "Now, I think it's time you told me exactly why you are here. Are you in danger?" she asked, her tone not betraying a single emotion.

 

[Merelan]

Sister Mary:

At their departure it was time to flee.
"Quickly. Silently." Pulling Isabelle to her feet, whispering the words directly in her ear. But even as we turned the corner to the chapel a rough hand pulled her from my grasp. Spinning to face him and yank her back, behind me. Again shielding her from him. His eyes laughing, but cold.
"Don't you dare touch her." I stood firm. He was obviously a peasant, a servant most likely.
"Attend to your Master and leave us be." Turning from him and pushing her before me. Her eyes wide with fear, her hand cold.

 

[Marigold]

Isabelle

She watched with wide eyes as Mary confronted the man. A man. Here, in the abbey. Isabelle could hardly comprehend it. She his behind Mary, watching with large eyes. What could they want? Were they revolutionaries? She shivered delicately, hoping that they could make their way to safety before violence errupted. Mary took har hand and made as if to leave, and Isabelle folowed obediantly, sincerely praying that there would be no trouble this night.

 

[ariosto]

de Sade

OOC...Bart you are welcome to Armand of course. I will double as the Comté Lucien Reynaud de Beziers
until some one better comes along.


IC...
De Sade threw himself into a chair and draped a long leg over the upholsterd arm. His flashing eyes took it in the opulent chamber and then settled on the outraged Abbess.

"Not bad, Reverand Mother. Not bad at all.
How much did the Old Duke pay to set you up here?"

Celeste turned and walked to the huge table that occupied nearly a third of the room. She opened a decanter and poured them both tall goblets of blood red wine.

"You don't have the same look about you Hubert, you've lost your youth and fair visage it seems.Have your vices got the better of you?"
Her words were like iron nails.

"You do still drink I suppose."
She handed the glass to him and his fingers caught her wrist.
"Aged...oh yes I've aged all right, a year in the last month. One step ahead of the rabble, sleeping in barns, washing in foul streams, dining on stale bread and sour wine. My dear Uncle in prison, The chateau burned, my funds cut off..."

She smirked,
"Oh poor, poor, Hubert, I..."
The blow took her by surprise,not terribly hard nor terribly painful but enough to stop her in mid sentence.
His lips crushed against hers, the goblet crashed to the floor, his arm behind her back like a vise,
she breathed hard and fast against his chest her breasts respond to his brutal caress, nipples tighten to the beating of his heart. De Sade's hand intwines her hair and pulls her face back an inch, he whispers against her lips...

"Abbess, I am back. I am back to play with you as I once did. Do you remember?"
He buries his mouth into the warmth of her throat.
Inspite of herself she reaches up and lifts his
face in her hands. Another kiss, a long kiss, full of passionate tongue play and swirling fevered memories.

He breaks his hold and looks into her flushed face, her questioning eyes.

"You're doomed Celeste, Just as I am. Just as my companions are. They will come here and rape you and kill you. They will play with your girls and then burn them alive. Tonight, tomorrow, next week...soon.
You see there's nothing left but the 'game'. That's all...shall we play?"

 

[Guest]

Comté Lucien Reynaud de Beziers

OOC: A minor noble of the French aristocracy, the 23 year old Comté de Beziers has known DeSade for only a short time, having met the Marquis after the revolution. Fleeing for the same reasons as the other two men, he have developed a tenuous relationship with the other men. During his short short aquaintance with them, the impressionable aristocrat has been regaled with tales of sexual exploits of DeSade and Armand.

With blonde hair and blue eyes, the Comté is of average height with an elegant build. His features are almost feminine in their beauty, save for a scar that runs down the left side of his face, from brow to jaw. The cruel white line gives his face an almost savage appearance.


IC: I stepped in front of the two retreating women, trapping them between Armand and myself.

"You were not going to run away, ladies? My friend and I are thirsty. Surely you can provide the rudiments of hospitality on a night as dark as this."

My eyes travel over the delightful creatures with undisguised speculation.

 

[Tornado]

That last post was mine

Not an auspicious beginning...

 

[Marigold]

Isabelle

Her eyes travelled back and forth between the two men flanking she and Mary Catherine. She smiled nervously to them, trying to be hospitable. They did not look like revolting peasants, rather weary noblemen, probably running from the troubles. Mary Catherine merely gave both men a steely look. Isabelle watched the more experienced woman. She didn't see any harm in getting them something to drink, personally, but she would follow Mary's lead.

 

[Honey_B]

The Abbess

Surely not since Eve was tempted by the serpent had a woman faced such seductive danger. Abruptly the Abbess turned away and walked over to the fireplace. She stared into the dancing flames and the years disintegrated into dust in the blink of an eye. The Abbess was Celeste again, remembering the dark day she had entered the world of De Sade.

Sixteen years ago, a twenty year old Celeste stood watching a bizarre procession, flaggellants marching up the street. The men were stripped to the chest. Each carried a hard leather whip festooned with little iron spikes which he brought down, rhythmically and slowly, across the back of the one proceding him. Bent and bloody, the procession snaked toward Notre Dame where they would be turned away as religious fanatics.

Celeste watched with fasination. Some appeared to be in agony, others simply exhausted. And some appeared to have gone beyond the pain and entered what looked like esctasy. As one man passed by, she could not stop herself, she reached out to caress his mutilated back.

"What do you suppose it feels like?"

She whirled around and saw a darkly handsome man looking at her with interest. "What are you taking about?

"The whip, of course," his said with a sardonic smile.

Celeste did not have to consider the question for long. "Pain beyond my ability to imagine it."

The man spoke as if she had not, "At first, there is terrible pain but still it seems bearable, or so you think. The lash keeps falling and the pain mounts. It fills your whole body, your whole being. At that moment, you could sell your soul to make it stop. You think that you cannot possibly bear it another moment that you'll lose consciousness or die. Then it's as though the body becomes so completely overwhelmed. There is a giddiness. You laugh, you scream, you weep. You have gone beyond pain. It is still there, but it's not part of your body anymore."

Celeste gasped and asked with complete naivite. "How could you possibly know about such things?

"I do not participate in such acts myself, but I am aquainted with many who feel what I have described is the epitome of ecstasy. They are woman who are very explicit in their descriptions and reward my curiosity with candor. Allow me to introduce myself. I am DeSade, Hubert-Donatien de Sade."

Despite herself, Celeste allowed the man to place a kiss on the back of her hand.

Warm lips brushed against the sensitive skin on the back of her neck, bringing the Abbess out of the past and into the present.

 

[Merelan]

Sister Mary:

Still holding her hand I faced them. Hospitality? Yet, the Abbess had seemed to know them.
"Follow us. I shall show you were you may bed for the night." Turning and leading them. Taking them only as far as the visitors quarters. Where the family of the novitiates stayed when first brining them here. Lighting a candle and opening the rooms. They were a bit stuffy, but these men would not care. Taking a deep breath.
"Have you eaten? Our fare is simple, but I could arrange a small meal."

 

[ariosto]

The lips were full of whispered memories, of past regrets, and longings, of seductive yearnings and sharp edged ecstacy, they burned with fever and they sucked her soul into a maelstrom...

"Celeste...you are still beautiful Celeste
I commanded you and your body responded with incandescence...you burned for me Celeste...you were all mine..."

The words hung like rubies around her ears, hard faceted and cruel, filled with blood and fire and seduction.
Precious stones...

Hands whose long fingers had known her body in every way, move upon her breasts. She watches mesmerized.

DeSade, at the tight laced color around her throat, pinches, pulls and tears the fabric, slowly inch by inch he rips her, rends her. The tiny buttons pop and fly into the fire without a sound. The heat of the flame, the heat of his hands, the heat of her passion long surpressed but now roaring into life...fever...fever.

His palms are on her, pressing into her breasts, the hardened heel against her nipples,the fingers, busy, busy, working down.

The flames glow, now colors flesh hidden far to long.
DeSades lips move like cats tongues on the sensitive skin of neck and throat. His tongue, a serpent finds hunting grounds in the warm hollow behind her ear.

"Hubert!"
She cries out, and arches back against him.