Sister Bernice awoke gasping, her pillow drenched with sweat, the sheet under her churning ass slimy with the juices that were bubbling out of her spasm-wracked cunt. She shimmied her thighs together and moaned feverishly in the electrically charged atmosphere of her convent bedroom as the lightning flashed again and again outside and the thunder roared like a demon. But thank God for the thunder, she thought.
Thank God the thunder was drowning out her pained groans. At least tonight none of the other sisters would hear her in her shameful misery.
As the lightning slapped her again with its hellish blue light, as the thunder rattled the rain-battered windowpanes, Sister Bernice arched up one last time, her eyes rolling back from the intensity of her spasm. "Oh, God, oh, my."
She fell back at last, the autumn dampness, chilling her, and she groped in the darkness alongside her bed for the bedsheets and her nightgown. Unable to find the gown – she might have hurled it across the room during her sleeping fit – she drew the sheets up over her nakedness and sighed.
She was still panting. It was as if she'd been wrestling with a demon. She felt drained, exhausted. She wondered how much longer she could withstand these nightmares before she ended up in an asylum.
There was a flicker of lightning, a low rumbling of thunder. Except for the rain, the storm had passed. In the quieting night, Sister Bernice listened to the hiss of the rain in the convent garden outside. She sighed again, her heartbeat normalizing. Maybe she could still get a little sleep in what remained of the night. The last thing she needed for tomorrow's interview with Sister Francine with bags under her eyes.
She turned onto her left side and folded her pillow under her cheek. Her heavy tits fell to the side, one pillowed atop the other. She scowled to herself. What kind of tits were these for a nun? What kind of overgrown tits were these for a petite young woman? All her big tits had caused her was trouble. Maybe if she hadn't grown such fat tits as an adolescent her entire life would be different today, her brother might not have gone to jail and she might not have entered the sisterhood.
Go to sleep, she told herself. Go to sleep and don't start thinking about it. Hadn't she thought about it much too much over the last three years? She'd relived that terrible night so many times that she could remember every lurid detail of it, could see and hear, could smell and taste and feel everything. In her nightmares, in her daydreams, she relived that night over and over, exactly as it had happened. And at the climax of each nightmare, of each daydream, she would experience an orgasm, an orgasm of nearly the same shameful intensity as the one she'd felt on that terrible night three years ago when she'd been robbed so brutally of her virginity.
Go to sleep, she told herself. Don't think about it another second. Sleep. Just sleep.
Make your mind a blank screen.
She clenched her teeth and clamped shut her eyes and fought the images that sought to fill her head. She would sleep. She would! She had to! But the image of her brother's leering face bled through the blank screen in her mind, appearing before her as it had appeared out of the hallway darkness on that evening three years ago. The face still looked young… and yet so wicked. Golden hair framed that tanned face, blue eyes shined from it. The teen's square white teeth flashed, dazzling her. She looked up from her school work, squirmed uneasily in her chair, felt her brother's eyes on her tits, and cursed herself for not wearing a bra under her T-shirt. Without taking his gaze off her, the teen kicked shut her bedroom door with a bare foot. She could see his hard-on throbbing through the faded denim of his jeans, which were all he was wearing.
"What do you want?" she asked foolishly. "I'm studying." She wished to God Mom wasn't at work. They were alone in the house.
Her brother squeezed his huge fucker through his tight jeans. His throbbing prick bulge resembled a billy club clown his pants leg. "Let me see your tits naked."
Bernice flushed, heat washing through her face. "Are you out of your mind? Leave me alone, will you? If you get out of here now, I won't tell Mom."
The teen smirked. "Who cares about Mom? I can handle her."
"Ronny!" She used the same tone of voice Mom would have used.
The teen licked his lips. "Same way I'm gonna handle you."
He unsnapped his jeans, and Bernice felt panic. She groped instinctively for the letter opener on her desk. This couldn't be happening. But the letter opener was real as her fingers closed around it, and her brother's cock was real as it sprang up out of his lowering jeans. Her heart beat hammered so loud in her head that she thought she was having a stroke.
Her brother kicked off his jeans and stood naked before her sun-browned torso, white legs, grubby tanned feet. His prick resembled an arm as it throbbed at a forty-five-degree angle to his tight, skinny loins. He was well muscled for his age, an undefeated wrestler on the freshman wrestling team, but he was shorter and lighter than she was, so there was a ghost of a chance that she could handle him, just the ghost of a chance.
She knew that she wouldn't be able to, though, unless she kicked him in the balls, unless she stabbed him half to death with the letter opener. She couldn't do that, and yet she had to. It was her only chance.
She raised the letter opener. "Get out of here. You're disgusting!" She tried to keep her gaze off his throbbing fucker.
"Bitch!" he said, not even flinching as she raised the letter opener higher. A pearl of clear fucklube appeared at the tip of his menacing prickshaft. "Take off your shirt, bitch. Let me look at them big juicy tits."
Bernice began to tremble. She felt so weak, she could hardly hold onto the letter opener. Her brother wasn't playing games anymore.
"Ronny," she said softly, trying to smile. "Be reasonable. Let's talk this over, okay?"
The teen twanged his cock with the tip of his finger, inspected the sticky gob of fucklube he'd rubbed off, sniffed it, then rubbed it on his leg. His balls twisted in their brown sac. He sneered at her. "Take off your shirt."
Bernice fought the impulse to bawl. He wasn't even paying any attention to the letter opener as a threat. He was beyond listening to reason. He'd attempted to assault her a dozen times over the last few months, but she'd always managed to either threaten him off or reason with him. Tonight, she knew, neither would work. She had to try, though.
She got up out of her chair, stepped out around the desk to face him, the letter opener held before her at her midriff. "I'll use this if I have to. Now get out of here."
For just a moment, the teen appeared hesitant, intimidated. Then his prick flexed and he grabbed it, his sinewy brown hand fisting it slowly, firmly. His pisshole opened up and more fucklube leaked out, trickling down over his knuckles.
"I'm gonna shove this up your cunt, bitch. Maybe I'm even gonna ram it up your shithole."
Bernice caught her breath. He deserved to die for saying things like that, deserved to burn forever in hell.
She lunged forward, jerking the letter opener toward him. For just a moment she felt the perverse desire to stab his bulging ball-sac, to let the air out of his balls.
Ronny didn't move except to let go of his prick. "Watch it," he said coolly in his half changed voice.
Bernice was panting, her heart hammering. "Then get out of here! Just get out!"
He sneered again. "Cock-sucking bitch!"
She wanted to kill him. She lunged again, driving the sharp point of the letter opener into her brother's abdomen. At the moment of contact, she realized what she was doing and held back just enough to avoid skewering him. Ronny gasped, jerked back and stared down in apparent disbelief at the small puncture wound in one of the rectangular segments of his muscled belly from which trickled a small flow of crimson blood. His chest heaved.
He looked up at her, his eyes wide. "You stabbed me." His voice trembled.
"I'm sorry. Oh, I'm sorry!" Bernice dropped the letter opener onto the red shag carpet.
"You tried to kill me!"
"I didn't mean it." Bernice felt weaker than ever now. She could hardly stand up.
"You… you…"
Ronny flung himself at her.
Bernice grunted, the wind knocked out of her. As she hit the floor, she banged her head hard enough to leave her stunned and dizzy. She lay there helplessly as Ronny tore off her clothes, first her shirt, then her jeans. She recovered enough to resist him as he ripped at her panties, but it was futile. The panting teenager jerked her panties off over her feet and sat on his heels before her, his chest heaving, his prick wagging.
"Please, Ronny," she whimpered. "Please?" She was sweating, but the cool dry air of the room chilled her. She had never felt so naked, so helpless. She couldn't move to defend herself. It was as if she'd been hypnotized or drugged.
The teen sniffed her panties, rubbed their moist crotch against his lips and all over his face. His blue eyes appeared to glaze over. "Fuck," he moaned. "Oh, Jesus Christ, fuck!"
"Please, Ronny? Please?"
He looked at her as if he'd suddenly discovered her lying there. "Sure," he said.
And Bernice felt a surge of relief. He was going to let her go. Sure, he'd said. Sure.
The teen threw himself on her. He was hot and brutally hard, his smooth skin slippery with sweat and blood. His prick felt like a steel club between their bellies. It rubbed at her, throbbing, leaking fucklube. The teen's hot mouth closed over her lips, his tongue filling her throat, his sharp teeth gnawing her lips, his breath smothering in the scent of apples.
Oh, God, she prayed. Please help me.
The teen lifted off her, started to get up. Bernice had never felt such a sense of relief. She began to sit up… but her brother was on her again, this time sitting on her tits, this time slamming his cockshaft back and forth across her face. Fucklube got in her eye and she winced, her eye burning and tearing. The teen rammed his prick against her clenched mouth.
"Suck it!" he growled. "Open up!"
She had no choice but to unclench her teeth. She had no doubt that his steel-hard cockshaft would have knocked them out otherwise. As her brother's enormous slab of fuckmeat filled her mouth and throat, her jaws almost dislocated and she nearly vomited. His big prick gagged her, churning against her tonsils. And the smell of it, the taste of it – salty, sweaty, musky – nauseated her.
"Oh, fuck!" the teen muttered. "Suck it!" He humped, pumping his fucker in and out of her spit-leaking mouth, stretching her lips like rubber bands, choking her to death.
Bernice knew she was going to black out. Her brother would choke her to death and would then leave her there, naked and degraded, to rot.
The teen's prick unplugged her throat. Air rushed into her lungs and revived her. Her brother was mercifully climbing off her. The ordeal was over. She relaxed, her tits rising and falling, a faint smile taking hold of her lips.
"Oh, wow!" the teen moaned, and then he was on her again, this time more brutally than before. "Spread 'em! Open up!" He squirmed between her thighs, forcing them apart with his knees, ramming his bone-hard fucker against her exposed crotch again and again.
"Nooooo!" Bernice whined. "God, nooo!"
She writhed, clawing at his muscular shoulders, kicking at the backs of his legs with her heels.
He snapped at her tits, chewed on them, dug his fingers, into them. His mouth fastened to her left tit mound and his teeth nearly ripped off her nipple.
Bernice screamed. It was as if her nipple were being sliced with hot knives. Her cunt contracted repeatedly, and she felt cuntjuice like molten lava leaking from between her cock-rammed pussylips.
"Pleeeeease!" she wailed, clutching at the hard muscles of her brother's arms. "Oh, God!"
Her brother's prickhead twisted against her cunt, separated her greased pussylips, then lodged in the entrance of her cunthole. She'd never felt such a stretch. Nothing larger than her finger had ever been inserted between her virgin pussylips. She swore she could feel her cunt meat tearing.
"Ronny! Oh. God, no! No, please!"
Clawing and biting at her tits, slobbering warm spit all over them, the lust-mad youth slammed his fucker up her cunt. There was the feel of something snapping, of something ripping. Bernice felt fire explode in her cunt, felt fire consume her entire body. She arched up, toenails and fingernails tearing blindly at her brother. As she threw her head back, letting out a whine of agony, she exposed her throat to her brother's teeth, then she slipped into unconsciousness.
She didn't know how long she'd remained blacked out, but it probably wasn't long, because when she came to, her brother was still rutting at her, was still gnawing on her neck and tits as he fucked, fucked, fucked his raging cock in and out of her body.
Her cunt had been torn, her cherry snapped. She was slimy with hot juice between her legs, and the juice was more than sex-lubricant from her cunt and from her brother's cock. There was also blood, the blood of her maidenhood, of her irrevocably lost virginity.
"Feel it?" her brother muttered. "Feel it? Mmmmm, feels so fucking good! Oh, fuck! Oh, shit!" He writhed on top of her, his incredibly smooth and slippery young body undulating, his arm sized fucker and sliding effortlessly in and out of her.
She could hear squishing noises coming from her cunt as her brother fucked it, and she thought of a toilet being unplugged by a plunger. She was a toilet now, her purity, her precious virginity polluted and destroyed forever. She was no better now than a whore… and she was beginning to feel like a whore, was beginning to respond spontaneously like a fucked nymphomaniac. She couldn't help it. Her loins humped up and down, meeting the vicious thrusts of her brother's cock. She arched her back, arched her neck, jerked her ass up and down, clawed passionately with her fingernails and toenails driving, driving, driving her sizzling crotch up to suck her brother's cock into her cunt.
"Uh!" she grunted. "Oh, God!" She panted like a woman in labor, twisted her blonde head against the crimson carpeting, whined as her brother gnawed her vein-bulging neck. Her tits felt swollen and tight, her nipples hard as spikes as she rubbed them madly against her brother's square-muscled chest.
"What a bitch!" Ronny hissed. "Ahhhhh, ahhhh, feels so good, ooooh!" His blue eyes rolled drunkenly. Sweat dripped from his flushed face, from his nose. His blond hair fell girlishly along his cheeks.
His cock knifed in and out of her, all eight rock-hard inches of it. Despite the searing, raw pain in her pussy, Bernice could feel every vein and bump on the teen's cock as it slipped relentlessly between her cuntlips and between the clutching walls of her fuckhole. The bumps and veins, his fat cockhead, stimulated the most sensitive crevices of her fuckmeat, sent electric shivers through her cunt and deep into her loins. She could hardly bear the intense sensation. She chewed her lips felt her eyes turning back into her skull.
Ronny plunged, whacking their bellies together, cracking their hipbones, fucking the blood and fuck-juices out of her wide-open cunt. She arched up so high that the muscles of her lower back almost cramped.
"Ohhhhh!" she moaned. "Ohhhh, ohhhh, ahhhhh!" She couldn't stand it, hated it, hated herself for responding this way… but she couldn't help herself. Her body was reacting. It was almost reflexive. She was fucking, fucking hard and savagely. She kicked and clawed at her brother's skinny ass, hugged his loins to her crotch, sucked his cock with her cunt, ached for more cock, ached for a deeper fuck. She'd lost her mind.
"Fuck me!" she muttered between clenched teeth. "Grind me! Deeper, deeper! Oh, baaaby!"
"Bitch whore!" Ronny snarled. "I'm gonna blow your guts out!"
"Do it! Oh, do it!" She contracted her cunt again and again around. Ronny's plunging cock, milking it, skinning it, trying to make his prickhead shoot off. "Come," she gasped. "Shoot it!"
Ronny's eyes rolled back and nearly sank into his skull. His face flushed purple. He shuddered in her arms, his naked body as hot as grilled steak. "Uhhhh, ohhhh!" His cock flexed inside her cunt, shivered fiercely. His molten cum exploded up her pussy, and she shrieked with excitement.
"Shoot it, Ronny, oh, God, shoot it!" She kneaded his bouncing little ass with her toes, caressed his lower back with her hands, jerked under him as each spurt of his teenaged cum dashed against the seething walls of her pussyhole. She felt so ecstatic that she wanted to die… and then her cunt exploded, and she thought she was going to. She screamed as the spasms ripped through her pussy.
The sensations came in waves, overwhelmed her with their intensity. Her cuntmeat almost cramped as he fuckhole shuddered and clutched. The nerves of her loins felt as if they were being tortured with electrically charged drills. She felt pulsating tingles in her fingers and toes, in her tits and lips. A fire consumed her pussy and waves of heat washed through her entire body. She screamed again and again shocked by the intensity of her feelings.
"Goddamn!" her brother grunted, firing wads of hot fuck-cream into her body. "Holy fucking shit!" He squirmed in her anus, his cock jumping inside her, his loins humping frantically. "Ohhhh, fuck!"
Bernice clung to him… fucking, fucking, fucking… coming endlessly, dying with the feeling of it all.
Sister Bernice gnawed on the pillows, her body contorted into a ball as she lay on her side in the darkness of the convent bedroom and crushed the shameful spasms out of her cunt with two clutching hands. She groaned loudly, but her voice was absorbed in the pillow. As her orgasm subsided, she realized that she had thrust three fingers up into her crotch, and she slipped them out, cursing herself, praying that God would forgive her, praying that God would know that none of this was really her fault.
The daydreams were as beyond control as the nightmares. What could she do about them? She surely couldn't go on like this. Which was precisely why she had to impress Sister Francine at the interview. She had to be accepted by Sister Francine. She had to leave the security of the convent here for the uncertain life at St. Michael's Reformatory.
Her brother was there. After three long years, her brother was still there. And she had to see him, had to face him, had to speak to him, had to forgive him. But Sister Francine must never know, must never find out. Inmates at St. Michael's were allowed no visitors. St. Michael's was an experiment in the penal system, a juvenile prison for teens, a prison administered and staffed entirely by nuns. No inmate had ever escaped from St. Michael's, no inmate had ever earned an early parole. And the state, which subsidized this penal experiment – at a cost of only ten percent of what it took to run the ordinary juvenile teens' detention institution – was very satisfied. Sister Francine, the mother superior, head warden, or whatever one called her, had free rein over the prison and over the lives of the teens. And Sister Bernice had to impress her, had to get into St. Michael's.