The Rules Of The Convent

by Kara Bryn

  At breakfast she glanced over at Sister Theresa. She hadn't noticed yesterday, but she had a delicate and pretty face, and it brought back the memory of how she had felt her kissing her… down below in her dream the night before. She blushed and looked away as her insides fluttered. She thought: I wonder if Theresa would like what I'm wearing beneath my habit?

  As her face turned a deep shade of crimson she fought to banish the thought: this, surely was exactly the kind of thing that the Reverend Mother would not approve of.

  After breakfast she went to find Sister Theresa to ask her about her new duties. As she spoke to her, she still couldn't push the thought of her previous night's dream out of her mind. Theresa put the young woman's flushed expression down to nerves and smiled kindly as she explained things.

  "And you remembered the hanging baskets?" Theresa said.

  Sarah's mouth made an "oh": she'd watered everything else but hadn't noticed the baskets hanging all around cloister. "I'll make sure I do them today," she said.

  "Don't worry," Theresa said with a kind smile, "They're not going to die if you miss one day." Then she leant forward as if passing on a secret. "I may have forgotten them in the past too." The pair of them giggled and then stopped as they caught a disapproving glance from one of the other nuns: this was supposed to be a serious work period and some of the older nuns resented the frivolity that their younger companions were still able to muster. Sarah imagined what the stern sister would say if she knew what she was wearing. She almost shared the secret with Theresa before thinking better of it.

  "Was everything alright last night?" Theresa suddenly asked.

  "What do you mean?" Sarah replied.

  "I thought I heard some noises in the night. From the direction of your room."

  Sarah blushed: she'd forgotten that Theresa's room was adjacent to her own.

  "I just had a dream, that's all," Sarah said with a smile, and then made her excuses before her embarrassment gave her away. She wasn’t sure what she could say about her dream without telling a lie or telling the truth, and neither was acceptable.

  After lunch Sarah found the watering can and went to track down all of the hanging baskets. Some were just above eye level, but others she couldn't reach and needed to find a small wooden stool.

  As Sarah was at the edge of the cloister she spotted the Reverend Mother passing along the other side. She was keen to impress upon her how seriously she took her duties, however small, and she knew that the Reverend Mother would pass right by her.

  She looked up at the hanging basket above her: it was beautiful, filled with red and blue flowers that she one day hoped to learn the names of. She put the stool beneath the basket and stepped onto it and held the watering can high above her head and poured.

  She almost fell off the chair as she heard the Reverend Mother shouting. "Sister Sarah! What are those!"

  Sarah looked down and saw the Reverend Mother pointing at her legs or, more precisely, her stockings. Sarah had forgotten that, standing on the stool and holding the watering can above her, she had lifted the bottom of her habit a good six or seven inches and her ankles were very much on display. The Reverend Mother couldn't fail to notice them as she walked by.

  "Tights! In my convent!" the Reverend Mother nearly screamed.

  Sarah quickly climbed down from the stool and looked down at the floor submissively. "Reverend Mother, I'm sorry I…" She couldn’t really protest that she was cold, not in this heat, and besides: it wouldn't be an excuse in any case. Although it would be better than the truth: that she wanted to feel like a sexy, young woman, at least for a short time.

  "Sister Francis!" the Reverend Mother called across the cloister, "Summon everyone to the chapter house right away." She turned to Sarah. "And you. You follow me."

  The Reverend Mother led Sara to the chapter house. Sarah followed her meekly into the middle of the room, to the same spot where Sister Theresa had been dealt her punishment only the day before.

  Her knees shook as she watched the nuns file in, each looking at Sarah with a mixture of shock and curiosity. They may be devout, abstentious and pure of thought, but they couldn't help but be drawn in by the drama, especially for the second day in a row; although it would be hard to top Theresa's performance yesterday.

  The Reverend Mother waited until the entire circle was formed and silence had fallen over the room. Such was her sense of shame that Sarah couldn't bring herself to look up from the stone floor.

  "I have some unfortunate news about our newest arrival," the Reverend Mother said seriously. She turned to Sarah. "Show them," she instructed.

  Sarah's face turned bright red and she lifted her habit by a few inches to show the sheer material covering her ankles. As before, there were gasps from around the room, although more because they knew the Reverend Mother expected it of them than because they felt real shock. Most of them had worn a pair of tights at some point in their lives and it didn't seem the worst of crimes.

  "No," the Reverend Mother told Sarah, "show them properly."

  The heat in Sarah's face was unbearable as she lifted her habit up another few inches.

  "More," the Reverend Mother instructed.

  Sarah continued to lift her habit, and then the feigned gasps of shock became real ones as the tops of her stockings were revealed.

  "Stockings!" the Reverend Mother shouted at her, "Not tights, but stockings!"

  Sarah wished the ground would open up beneath her. No matter what her vows, if the devil would only offer to get her out of this situation now then an eternity in hell might be a price worth paying. She stood stock still, her habit bunched around her thighs as whispers and murmurs passed around the room.

  "You are a disgrace to your habit, young lady," the Reverend Mother said harshly, "And if you want to walk around as a tart then so be it: a tart you shall be. Sister Francis!" The nun who had summoned the gathering scuttled over to them. "Take Sarah's habit and lock it away. And go to her room and take her spare. Let's see how she feels about spending one or two days without them."

  Sarah looked up into the Reverend Mother's eyes pleadingly but it was clear that no pity would be forthcoming. She looked around to Sister Francis, to appeal to her not to take her habit away, but she knew the Sister would not disobey an order from the Reverend Mother. Besides, she refused to meet Sarah's gaze in any case.

  Sarah felt Sister Francis take the weight of her habit and began to lift it up her body. And then she heard the gasps and murmurs as her black lace panties were revealed to the surrounding circle of nuns, followed by a further, overly theatrical gasp as her bra appeared in view.

  Sister Francis stepped back, Sarah's habit draped over her arm. Sarah folded her arms defensively across her chest, which only served to push her cleavage higher.

  "Well!" the Reverend Mother said, "I can't believe that you have brought these… things into our sacred house." She grabbed Sarah's arms by the wrists and pulled them down by her sides and turned to the circle of nuns.

  "See how the devil can lurk hidden within our midst? He can even masquerade as a woman of the cloth. I thought I would never see the day…" Sarah's head fell to the floor again. It had seemed such a small thing to get so angry about! How could she be so wrong?

  "Stand up straight!" the Reverend Mother barked, "I want you to look your fellow Sisters in the eye so you can see what you're doing to them."

  Sarah looked around the room at the eyes of her companions staring back at her. Some were staring in genuine disapproval, some were looking her up and down, not sure what to make of the whole thing, and some, she thought, some were paying just a little more attention to her body than she would have expected. For some, the beautiful, young, lingerie-clad woman in front of them was the very image of temptation; perhaps she was the devil incarnate, and, if so, perhaps they would follow her willingly.

  Sister Theresa looked on, pitying the poor girl, knowing from first-hand experience what she was going through. She pitied her, and
, along with many of the nuns, she desired her. Theresa's passion had not been quenched by yesterday's display and Sarah was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen in the convent.

  "Sister Theresa!" the Reverend Mother barked at her suddenly.

  "Yes, Reverend Mother!" she said quickly.

  "Fetch a pair of scissors. Make yourself useful and be glad that Sarah is washing away the memory of your own recent misadventures."

  Theresa dashed to the kitchens and returned with a pair of scissors. She handed them over to the Reverend Mother and then returned to her place in the circle.

  "If you want to dress as a whore," the Reverend Mother told Sarah, "Then let's see how you feel about acting like one."

  Sarah stood still as the Reverend Mother pulled at the shoulder strap of her bra. And then, with a snip, the cup fell away from her breast as it was cut clean through.

  The second strap followed, the bra still just about covering her nipples by the tension in the strap around her back, and Sarah's body tensed, but she still dare not move. The Reverend Mother pulled hard at the back of the bra and Sarah felt cold steel sliding up her spine. And finally, with a third cut, the bra was destroyed. It came away in the Reverend Mother's hands.

  Sarah instinctively clasped her hands to her bare breasts. The room was cold and her nipples were hard against her palms. She had never felt such shame as the circle of nuns stared at her.

  "Put your hands by your sides," the Reverend Mother told her, and Sarah complied instantly, the authority of the Reverend Mother overriding her natural instincts. The eyes around the room that had been devouring her body could not tear their eyes away from her small, firm breasts.

  The Reverend Mother hooked one finger into the waistband of Sarah's panties, inserted the scissors, and began to cut. Sarah's heart raced as one side of the thin fabric was cut through and it drooped downwards. The Reverend Mother tugged at the other side and, with one, long cut, the panties fell away. Sarah felt them pulled from between her legs as they were dropped onto the stone floor.

  Sarah longed to cover herself as she stood in the middle of the room in her stockings and flat black shoes. Her chest rose and fell with deep, trembling, terrified breaths.

  "Let's see," the Reverend Mother said, "Whether you still want to dress like a prostitute after a few days being treated like one, shall we?"

  Sarah's fear rose further and she dreaded what that might mean.

  The Reverend Mother turned to address the group. "For the next three days," she said, "If you see Sarah wearing anything other than what she's wearing now, then you must report it to me immediately. Do you hear?"

  There were nods from every nun in the room: no-one would dare to counter the Reverend Mother's instructions.

  "And you," she said, turning back to Sarah, "Your duties have changed. Since watering plants is beyond you, you can help Sister Jessica with keeping the larder stocked."

  "Yes, Reverend Mother," Sarah said, bowing her head in obedience. Perhaps this was as bad as it was going to get for her?

  "Don't you dare talk to me, not until that whore inside of you is gone," the Reverend Mother hissed, "You may nod and you may shake your head. That is all. Is that clear?"

  Sarah nodded, determined not to shed a tear despite the unbridled anger directed at her. She realised, there and then, that she hated the Reverend Mother, and she hated her methods, and that, no matter what, she resolved that she would not be cowed by her. She might obey, while the Reverend Mother had all the power, but that did not mean she was defeated. Three days naked in a convent was humiliating, but she could just about survive it.

  That evening Sarah discovered a downside of her punishment: in her unclothed state, nobody would sit near her at the dinner table, or talk to her as they walked to prayer. Being ostracized was worse than being naked. At prayer she crouched, ashamed of herself, at the back of the room, begging for forgiveness because she knew that she had done wrong. Yet still, as she had after Sister Theresa's punishment, she begged for forgiveness for the Reverend Mother, because she felt the Reverend Mother needed it even more than she did.

  Sarah prayed some more within the solitude of her own room and, slipping off her stockings, she went to bed, her mind dwelling on how such a small lapse had gotten her into such deep trouble.

  Her sleep was fitful again, and dreams of the convent returned. She was a new arrival, dressed in jeans and a blouse, and Sister Jessica took her suitcase as soon as she arrived. The Reverend Mother greeted her and said: "We'll find a habit that fits you soon. But in the meantime, we can't have you walking around like you've just come in off the street!"

  She was standing in the middle of the cloister and all the other nuns were gathered around, and Sister Theresa was stood in front of her and began to unbutton her blouse. Sarah did nothing to stop her as she slid it off of her shoulders. Then, Sister Jessica returned and she unfastened Sarah's belt and her jeans and pulled them down.

  Sarah stepped willingly out of them and Jessica ran her hands up Sarah's bare legs. Sarah closed her eyes as the sensation passed through her. Theresa walked around her back and unfastened her bra and Sarah shrugged it from her shoulders and did nothing to cover her body, nor when Jessica hooked her fingers over the waistband of her knickers and pulled them down and helped her step out of them.

  Sarah stood naked within the circle of nuns and a tingling sensation ran over her skin. She giggled and hoped they couldn't see how aroused she was. Jessica was still kneeling at her feet and she again ran her hands up and down her bare legs, then caressing her buttocks and running her ringers across her pelvis.

  Theresa, still standing behind her, put her arms around Sarah's chest and her palms rested on her nipples. Sarah closed her eyes and she tried to tell her to stop, but suddenly she was on a rollercoasters ride of sensation that she felt she couldn't escape from. She tried to twist in Theresa's grip but Jessica's hands were holding her thighs; she couldn't move.

  "Can't you stop her from wriggling?" Theresa asked Jessica, and Jessica stood, her hands running up the sides of Sarah's thighs, over her hips and her waist. She continued upwards and Sarah instinctively lifted her hands into the air as Jessica stroked upwards along her arms, until Jessica grabbed each of her wrists firmly within her fingers.

  Sarah emitted a small whimper and Theresa said: "That's better, Sister Jessica." Her fingers began to massage Sarah's breasts. Sarah closed her eyes, conscious of the circle of newfound companions that were watching her. She wanted to lower her arms to cover herself, or to tell them to stop, but she couldn't while Jessica held her arms tightly. And then one of Theresa's hands left her breast, slid across her stomach, and slipped between her legs. Sarah finally lost control of herself.

  If it wasn't for Jessica holding her upright then she would have collapsed to the ground, and as Sarah awoke mid-orgasm she realised she was also mid-scream. Her hands were gripping the metal bedframe above her head and she wondered if she would break it, such was the strength of her pull. The covers had been kicked off and lay in a pile on the floor. She twisted and writhed as the orgasm ran its course, still holding the cold metal tightly, her legs bunching and twisting as each wave of passion washed over her.

  As the orgasm subsided and she lay there panting she heard a gentle knock at the door.

  "Sarah?..." said a quiet, tentative voice. Sarah's pulse, already fast, raced again. The handle turned and then, to Sarah's surprise, it was pushed open a fraction. It wasn't common to lock a door within the convent, but it was still a shock when someone came in without waiting to be called.

  Theresa's head appeared through the small gap. Her eyes went wide as she caught sight of Sarah lying prone and naked on the bed, her hands wrapped around the metal bed head and her coverings on the floor. In the dim moonlight that came through the window she could make out a thin film of sweat on her beautiful, smooth skin. She looked small and vulnerable and Theresa wanted to comfort her, but also to take things wherever they might lead. But instead
of doing either of these things she stood in the doorway and adopted an innocent expression.

  "Another dream?" Theresa said. Sarah nodded. At least she hadn't asked if it was a bad dream, because it had been a very good one and Sarah was not going to lie to her. "Do you want company for a while?"

  Sarah shook her head. "I'm fine," she said, although part of her did crave some company, especially after her ostracism had denied it to her for much of the day. But she was too embarrassed to accept Theresa's help.

  "Just knock if you need anything," Theresa said with a smile, more than a little disappointed that she hadn't been invited in. Well, she thought, at least that fantasy was nipped at the bud if nothing else.

  Sarah nodded and smiled, grateful for the concern, and Theresa shut the door and went back to her own room.

  With the door closed Sarah lay in silence for a moment. Suddenly she found herself overcome by a fit of giggles. She managed to keep them quiet, but the idea that the convent, of all places, was the first place in her life that had driven her not to just one but two orgasms in her sleep on consecutive nights had a large amount of irony.

  The giggling relaxed her and, once she recovered, she fell back to sleep again until she was awoken by the sound of the morning alarm. She quickly swung her legs out of the bed and realised that getting dressed was going to be a lot faster in the morning, given that she only had stockings and shoes to put on.

  She slipped the shear material back onto each leg and looked down at herself. It was somewhat comical, to be walking around a convent pretty much naked, but then, who knew what went on in these places? Perhaps it was a common punishment? She giggled again.

  She resolved to face the day positively, not to appear broken by her punishment. She would greet her fellow nuns cheerfully, even if they refused to meet her eye, and she would work diligently. The weather was warm and, if anything, she'd be more comfortable than if she was wearing a habit. Maybe everyone should strip down to stockings? More giggles followed and Sarah forced herself to control them lest her mirth be mistaken for dissent and reported to the Reverend Mother.