The Evil Bishop

The year was 1730. The place, a convent in the town of Evesham, England. It stood like an old castle of sorts. Rarely visited by the locals and then only to bring its occupants the very basic of supplies. The nuns within its heavy dark stone walls, were revered and respected for the dedication they showed to their calling. It was accepted within the  surrounding towns that any woman who chose to be a bride of Christ in Evesham deserved the admiration of anyone who met her. Sister Jessica was one such woman. She came late to the calling. She was at least 40 when she decided that this way of life for her. She had never married and it was said locally that she still actually a virgin. Unheard of in those days for a woman past the age of 20.

She was of average build. I have to describe her so, as it was nearly impossible to tell her true form under the long loose fitting robes she wore. As a novice she was not yet entitled to wear the thinner black habit of a fully trained nun. Instead her clothes consisted of a white habit, with nothing to draw it at the waist and a headdress that fitted her around her pretty face, so tight, it seemed to frame her beauty and present it to the world as a perfect portrait. The mother superior was openly resentful of her prettiness and was always picking on her for the smallest of problems.  Jessica thought perhaps she was simply testing her resolve and kept her head down, getting on with her prayers and chores with equal dedication.

There were plenty of chores for her to do too. The one she found the least unpleasant was the cleaning of the relics box.

Novice sister Jessica treated this box as if it were made from solid gold. After all it DID contain various actual pieces of the saints themselves. Or at least that’s what the men who came and went over the years and sold the items to the convent said they were. Jessica had lovingly and gently wiped the dust of the old building from its surfaces a thousand times by now, but had never been tempted to open it……before now.

Just a quick look, she thought to herself. After all what was the point in these holy relics being here, if no one was ever able to benefit from their special powers. She just wanted to see them so she could focus her prayers to them later that day and receive the holy blessings of the saintly people they once belonged too.

She placed her cloth down next to the box and began to lift the lid slowly. Peering into the tiny gap as it opened she tried to see inside. When……..

“SISTER JESSICA !”  came a loud voice from behind her. “What on Earth do you think you are doing?”

Jessica dropped the lid closed as she turned in a flash to face her superior.

“I’m sorry Mother Superior.” She stuttered, “ I was just going…..”

“You have NO right to assume you are nearly worthy of even touching that box, let alone soiling it with unholy intension of questioning its contents.” She frowned at her.

“I’m sorry Mother Superior…..I’m sorry……truly…...please……I wont do it again”.  she said bowing her head in discrace.

“The Bishop will hear of this. Get to your cell!”

There was a furl of dirty white woollen gown as she turned on her toes and shuffled in double time, back to her tiny damp room.

Sister Jessica spent the entire afternoon on her knees in prayer, praying for forgiveness. She knew she had done a terrible thing. And she was fully prepared to take any punishment the Mother superior had planned for her.

The silence of the afternoon was broken by the arrival of a short fat man in his 50’s. The Bishop had been called in to try to get to the bottom of Jessica’s motivations and to see if indeed she was suited to continue her training to become a nun. His attire was ornate and brightly coloured in purple hues.

His mitre hat was covered in gold embroidery and covered an untidy mess of grey short hair. His face was bloated and mapped by the many thread like veins of a man who had spent the adult part of his life over indulging in the pleasures of alcohol and rich foods.

The door to Jessica’s cell was pushed open and the short stout shape of Bishop Allen stood looking down at her cowering figure. She turned her head and saw imposing figure filling the doorway. She had never seen so much gold before. Around his neck hung a round disc of the metal with a large celtic style cross mounted in the centre. It was about six inches in diameter and shone in the dim candle light. In his hand he held a crook. A staff some six feet in length with ornate rings that circled its circumference every foot or so. On the top was mounted a cross. It was cast from a real cross made from the branches of some holy tree. It was about a foot tall and nine inches wide, with the cross wood itself being about two inches in diameter. Only this was not wood……it too was solid gold.

Jessica had never seen anything like this man before. His very presence made her cower in humility.

He stared down at her as she huddled in the corner.

“You have a terrible thing Sister Jessica.” He boomed.

“There can be no excuses and no mercy in your punishment”.

“But first I must put my mind at rest about a subject matter that your Mother Superior has raised with me”.

Jessica looked puzzled.

“She is convinced that the act you perpetrated this afternoon is indicative of a woman who is perfectly capable of other crimes…..crimes such as self abuse!”

Jessica quickly answered the accusation.

“NO……NO……not I your Grace…….I promise I would never do such a thing”.

She rose to her feet and stepped towards him.

“That would a wicked thing to do. I could not do anything so dirty or wicked……never”.

“Never the less I must check to put my own mind at rest”. Came his answer.

“Stay standing where you are and raise the hem of your gown to your knees. Then spread your feet three feet apart”. She did as she was told.

What happened next shocked her and made her realise that perhaps she was in a lot more trouble than she had first imagined. He removed the cross form his neck laid it down on the table. As he did so he turned it over to reveal a surface polished like a mirror. In the centre was a tiny spike. He took Jessica’s candle from its wall mount and secured it firmly in the centre of the mirror. Then he leaned his fat frame down and placed the candle in its holder on the floor between Jessica’s strident feet. She looked down as he twisted and turned his cannon ball shaped head in an effort to get the best view he could of the soft flesh of her nether limbs now being illuminated by the candle light. Straightening up again with a huff of breath, he stared into Jessica’s eyes.

A look of panic crossed her beautiful middle aged face as the warmth from the candle began to reach up between her thighs.

“Well……what have you got to say for yourself?” He asked sternly. “Have you ever touched your self between your legs woman?”

Jessica suddenly realised that this was going to be more of an extraction of a confession by force and torture, than a simple punishment. She felt her inner thighs beginning to heat up to an uncomfortable level.

“Nooo……no……”, she pleaded.

The heat from a single candle when it is unable to escape its course was proving to be greater than she had ever imagined.

It seemed to be focusing on her most intimate area and was starting to burn her delicate skin.

She gritted her teeth and tried to think of the small patch of garden she tended……anything other than the sheer burning agony that the candle flame was now inflicting on her body.

“VERY WELL!” shouted the bishop. With that he kicked the candle over and it went out as it hit the stone floor, spilling hot wax over the surface. 

Jessica closed her legs together and dropped her gown, putting her hand between her legs at the place most hurt by the heat.

She stepped back over the mirror and the Bishop bent over and picked it up off the floor. 

He placed it onto the tiny table she had in the corner of her cell and began to remove his white leather gloves.

“ I can see I am going to have to use a different method to make you confess your sins” he said as he pulled at the tip of each finger in turn, until each glove was loose enough to be pulled completely off. He also placed them on the table. Jessica watched as he put one down first, palm up and then placed the second one directly on top of it. He then took the last twelve inches or so of his crook and turned the end clockwise. The entire lower end of the staff came off and he placed its threaded portion onto the wrists of the carefully placed gloves. He wrapped the loose wrists around the end and using a gold clip that he pulled from the other end, he fastened the leather gloves securely.

Jessica winced as an ear splitting CRACK broke the silence as the sound of leather hitting wood echoed within the small space. The whip he had made and carried with him disguised as holy items was vicious and was about to be used on her.

“Bend over the table woman!” he yelled at her, in a voice not to disobeyed.

She began to shake with fear, but did as she ordered. She was determined that she would not confess to something she did not do. But began to realise that trying to get her to do so was simply the excuse this unholiest of men was using to inflict as much pain and humiliation upon her, that he could get away with.

She lent over the table but refused to stay still, turning and twisting herself around to slow his actions. It only took a few minutes for him to loose his patience with her and he called out for two of the other nuns to help him in his task.

They entered the room and pulled the table into the centre.

Jessica was thrown over it and while one of the other women knelt at the head end and held her wrists down the other stood to one side in the middle and pressed her belly to the hard wooden surface.

She lay there motionless, in a state of shock as the fat Bishop pulled the hem of her garment up her long straightened legs and onto her back. The two nuns who had no idea why the man originally wanted them, looked at each other in horror as the full, soft, pale, smooth flesh of the backs of her naked thighs was shown the light of day for the first time in years. Covering her modesty was a roughly made off white pair of pants.

The Bishop tugged at the draw string around the waist and pulled them down the length of her legs and off over her feet.

Everyone in the room went silent as it was realised she was now totally naked from the waist down. A gentle wisp of natural female perfume passed the nose of the Bishop and his nostrils flared with unholy desire for this most desirable of women. She clamped her thighs together, but he was too strong and simply pulled her ankles apart.

The soft fleshy thighs parted like gates to a paradise and revealed the secrets they were hiding from the world.

Her cunny was almost hairless and every tiny texture of her labia and inner lips was there to be observer in the smallest of details.

“So this is the gift of reproduction you have been given by God, that you say has never given you the pleasures that so many crave”. He said as he tilted his head to get a better view up between her legs.

She said nothing. She just trembled in silence.

With that he reached forward and touched the delicate skin of her labia . An electric shock shook her body as his finger tips traced the line of her lips from the top and up as far as her arse cheeks. He reached in with his other now and used both to prise her labia apart. They opened almost like a zipper, with the sticky fluids of her body acting like  natural glue between them. As they were pulled open, the dark pink colouration of her  inner flesh felt the cool afternoon air for the very first time.

The two other nuns bowed their heads and dared not say anything. They just held onto her tightly to allow the Bishop to do his questioning.

“They say you are a virgin……lets see shall we?” with that he pushed the middle finger of his right hand deep inside her cunt.

She screamed out loud and tried to close her thighs on his hand. But it was no good as he was now standing between them. All she achieved was to tense her internal muscles which clamped her vagina around his finger which gave him  enormous pleasure. Beneath his gowns his cock grew as it engorged its self with his sexually heated blood. The two nuns who had been called to help him, whimpered in embaressment

And shock at what they were being made to witness.

Jessica turned her hips this way and that to try to rid herself of the Bishops probing invading fingers. He lent over her as he pushed them even deeper into her helpless body and put his face inches from hers. She turned her face to the side as she felt his quickening breath on her cheek. By now he was pushing and jamming his fingers into her without concern for her discomfort or any pain he may be causing her.  Even the excuse of trying to extract some sort of false confession from her for so called, wicked thoughts, had drifted from his evil mind.

He was simply abusing his position now as the Bishop of Evesham to satisfy his warped and deadly sexual needs on an innocent woman who had been made available to him by a Mother superior who knew him so well.

As his fingers hammered into her vagina, his thumb rubbed her tiny clitoris as if to try to give her pleasure. But the effect was the opposite. The sensitive skin around her little bud was bone dry and was being rubbed raw by the friction of his chubby rough thumb. She cried out in pain as he continued to force his fingers up her fleshy tunnel, eventually stopping only because he was exhausted.

He withdrew his digits and stepped away from her panting.

She curled up into a ball as soon as the other nuns let go of her wrists released the pressure off her back. Her hands sank into her sore and abused groin and she sobbed out loud.

The Bishop looked down at her in this new position and said in a evil and slimy manner, “ Ahhhh…….what do we have here then?”

With that he stepped forward once more and picking up the whip he had improvised from his staff, he swung it through the dank air and aimed it directly at Jessica’s naked and exposed buttocks. CRACK!

“Awwwgh……..please no…….God no…….I beg you…….”, she pleaded with him.

CRACK!       CRACK!      CRACK!

Three more times the leather of his gloves made hard and fast contact with her skin. Each time another hand shaped print appeared within a split second of it hitting her.

She had gone beyond crying out loud now and simply whimpered and trembled from shock.

He put the whip down and stroked the swollen red flesh of her arse gently with his palm to feel the whelts and raised skin for himself. Her flesh was on fire…..even to his touch. God only knows the pain she must have been in.

As he moved his hand over her buttocks, he closed his fingers and separated the two mounds of her cheeks to reveal the tiny puckered hole of her anus.

“I wonder if this then is the orifice of your solitary pleasures”, he said as he tilted his head to have a more detailed and closer look at her exposed rectum.

“Perhaps I should be focusing my attention here then”. He grinned and looked directly into the eyes of his victim.

Jessica looked quickly at the other two women, as if to ask for their help. But they knew that a fate as fearful as hers, would befall them if they tried to interfere in any way.

“Fetch a rope from the main hall and bring it her” he barked at one of the women and she disappeared out of the room. She reappeared soon after with a length of thick crudely made hemp.

“ You….help me get her up an all fours on the table”. Between them they man handled Jessica into a kneeling position with her face and shoulders flat against the surface of the table.

The Bishop removed his chorded belt and pulling her wrists behind her back, he tied them tightly so she could not try to raise herself off the table. Then he took the hemp rope and passed it behind both her knees and forward along her sides so the nun at the front could pull it as hard as she could to collapse Jessica’s legs and force her arse end out, as far as possible. Her little anus gaped slightly as the tension of her jutting backside pulled her arse open and her back tight.

The two women watched as he unscrewed the large gold cross from the top of his staff and licked the short end of the upright.

As previously stated it was cast from a real wooden cross of some holy significance and bore the textures and imperfections in its surface that any roughly made real wooden cross would.

The end that he now aimed directly at the rear passage of Jessica’s body thankfully tapered a little, but was still at least two inches in diameter.

The cross must have been of significant weight as he struggled to hold it steady as he moved it towards her anus.

He placed the end against her hole and began to push it up towards her spine.

“HOLY MOTHER OF GOD……PLEASE STOP……OH MY GOD…..PLEASE………” she screamed as the cold metal began to sink into her widening orifice. Her donut shaped muscle twitched and shivered uncontrollably as the shaft of the metal cross sank deeper and deeper into her body.  Her back arched and bucked as the agony of the invasion ripped through her frame.

After about ten minutes of the bishop’s efforts, the end of the cross was firmly stuck up her arsehole. He struggled to put the longer end of the heavy cross down on the table and as he did so Jessica found herself being torn apart by the uptilting of the end that impaled her rectum so deeply. Then he fetched the large candle that stood in the corner and held it on its side, so the substantial flame burned below the longer end of the resting cross and began to warm the metal it was made of.

This was no solid gold ornament….this was an instrument of torture. The gold was just the thinnest of surfaces. The cross was in fact cast in solid copper.

Jessica felt the heat of the flame being carried through its length and into her cunt against the delicate tissues of her vagina.

A slow and building wail of pain began to uncontrollably escape her full and contorted lips. A grin of satisfaction settled on those of the Bishop. Jessica was, by now throwing her hips from side to side trying to free the cross from her arse. But the sheer weight of the object resting against the table meant that this would never happen.

She screamed at the top of her voice hoping that someone somewhere would hear her and rescue her from this nightmare. But no one came……and the cross grew hotter and hotter. Her poor body seemed to go into shock after a while and she just started to shake wildly. As the tender tissues of her rear entrance were beginning to sizzle audibly, the Bishop removed the candle and withdrew the red hot cross from her back passage. The two nuns let go of their prisoner and Jessica collapsed in a whimpering heap on the table.

Their job was done. The Bishop sent them back to their cells and reminded them of their duty not to divulge his methods of extracting confessions. They left the room as fast as lighting and did not look back at either of them.

The fat old man then pushed Jessica’s broken body around on the table as if it were simply a pile of rags. He lay her on her back and threw the heavy lower part of her gown down and over her legs. Reaching into the folds of his ornately decorated cassock, he freed his engorged cock from the constraints of his undergarments and pulled it out through the front of his gown.

He gripped it in his fist and began to wank himself as he reached down to the front of Jessica’s habit and pulled it first open in one direction and then the other. Her full and darkly nippled breasts became exposed to his stare as he groped and tugged at her full and puffy nips so he could watch them fill with blood and grow to their fully erect size. As he flicked each one in turn, he felt the orgasm he needed to release the sexual strain he had built up within himself, grow. Then with one almighty spurt, he covered the naked soft mounds of his victim

With a messy white jet of his fluid. Another was aimed at her mouth and landed across her lips and chin. Then another strung its way once more over her breasts.

When the final drops of his seman had been lovingly coaxed from his balls, he put himself away and covered Jessica’s nakedness.

He left her lying there across the table with her legs hanging over the edge and his seed hidden under her gowns.

Jessica left the nunnery as soon as she was well enough and never talked about her experiences there.