The Nun Pt. 09

Syncletia awoke in her cell. It was still dark.

She had had the dream again.

Fire and thorns, tangled together. The shape of a cross silhouetted on the wall of a pine-built lodge, above a bed. As she looked at the cross, a shadow from behind her loomed over her shoulders, the shape of horns cast either side of the wooden crucifix. A hulking shape behind her, solid, hard, and heavy. She could hear heavy breath, and feel the compression of the weight of the being on the floorboards behind her. The clumping sound of a hoof...

It was the same every night. Except now, since her encounter with the Onanites, the dream was extended.

She saw her own, supple, glorious body above herself, her enormous, round, spheroid tits projecting outwards in perfect boulder mounds, and her upside-down body was staked on a cross -- not christ's cross -- not even saint Peter's crucifixion, though, like him, she was inverted, but a splayed X that split her legs above her either side, her ankles tied to it with shiny black straps. She had no agency in the dream and could not turn her head or swivel her eyes. She was utterly transfixed. Then she heard the hooves, grinding into the floor, pawing at the floorboards, scraping like a bull about to run at a matador, and then there was the oblivion of a phallic length that dangled in front of her vision, enormous beyond compare, three, four, five times as big as anything she had dealt with before, wreathed with bulging veins, and hanging in front of her face. Her eyes widened...

And she had awoken.

The dreams had become intertwined. The one she always dreamt, and the new one, the vision she had shared. It was like a key fitting into a lock. She knew what the dream was now -- although she had always known, deep down -- and, more importantly, she knew where she needed to go.

There was a place in the forest beyond the plains.

And she'd never left the convent, but she knew where it was. Somehow, there was a map in her mind. Somehow, she could portent some kind of gravitational pull towards it. The vision that had broken the poor gooner in the masturbatorium was identical to her own oneiric experiences. They were one and the same.

Cock comes.

To get it, she had been forced -- ahem, she thought in her head - forced to treat the babbling, imbecilic goon pig strokers in the masturbatorium to a torrid collective frot-party and insane jackoff session that brought them out of their permanent, chronic hand fucking addiction delirium of relentlessly cranking their dongs like zombified morons and gave them a live bimbo twerk-circus sex show the brought them out of their narcissistic and retarded broken-brain stupors and pushed them even deeper into a frenzy of manic masturbation that had unfortunately meant most of them lost their load over her and each other and turned their brains into scrambled eggs. None of them had seen a woman in years. It was going to be tough to explain.

One thing at a time.

She showered, and the dawn had come up by the time that she was out. She had left the spunk and precum all over herself after she had left the masturbatorium and over the evening it had been rapaciously licked from her bodies by various sisters that she had encountered in the convent. Vespers had been an all-round fuck fest and while she had rooted a hand each in Sister Avanelle and Sister Madeliene's assholes, she had rather fixed herself to the spot in doing so while she gropingly fisted two tight buttholes at the same time, and a dozen other sisters had accumulated around her, laving their tongues all over her glorious body and ruining both her holes from behind with an ornate phallic candlestick and a crucifix in her butt. To give Jesus his due, it made all the difference to the sensation when Christ's body was part of the ornamental design of the piece. So many ridges.

She pointedly did not bother with clothes as she exited her cell and made her way across the convent to the rooms that were Prior Priapus's quarters. She didn't have the rank to petition the abbot or the abbess (the monastery had both, ruling jointly) but she had the ear of the Prior. Not just the ear, actually.

The prior oversaw the day to day operations of the convent, and she would need to go to him to have permission to leave granted. Prior Priapus was extraordinarily devout. And remarkably austere. While the Abbot and Abbess oversaw doctrinal matters and maintained relationships with other sects and conclaves in the post-Christfall wilderness, Prior Priapus saw to the efficiency and smoothness of the brothers and sisters in the convent, with Sister Superior Yvette his chief enforcer and adjutant.

Evidence of Prior Priapus's zeal could be seen as Syncletia approached his quarters. There were more than two dozen of her sisters piled in two similar-sized heaps in the antechamber, piled up on both sides of the door that led to the Prior's private room.

The mounds of perfect female nuns were each over six feet high and stacked against the wall. Some were moaning softly, others completely still. Both of the heaps of female flesh were an asymmetric assemblage of long legs, lolling heads, drooping arms along with a jumble of massive, bulging, tanned round tits and ballooning bubble butts. Various types of correct convent attire were still clinging on to the tangle of limbs, latex stocking here, PVC corsets with buckles there, thigh-high fuck me boots, gloves, black and red shiny wimples, panties with crosses picked out on them, studded collars and fishnet tights.

There was spunk, thick, heavy white spunk sprayed all over each mound like a dusting of snow. It was oozing down the slopes of round tits, dripping off the end of fingertips and lolling chins, and spreading out from the base of each mound in a smooth, extending circle, like a pool.

Not one of the sexually rinsed nuns stirred when Syncletia approached the door. A busty nun she knew as sister MadisonXXX with fire-engine red hair attempted to pry and eye open but was unable to do so due to the thick white gunk of cum that was in a sticky molten web all over her face. Syncletia saw the well-fucked bimbo nun's clotted eyelashes flutter, and then clump back together. Dual spunk bubbles oozed out of the nun's nostril and popped.

Naked, Syncletia knocked on the door.

'Come,' came a voice from inside the door.

Syncleatia opened the door and went inside.

It opened into an ordinary office space cum living quarters. Priapus was austere. There was a cot in the corner, a bare wooden cross on the wall and a desk with papers scattered about it against the other wall. A half eaten working breakfast was on the desk along with a pot of tea.

Given the twin mounds of fucked-to-delirium-cum-exhaustion bimbo fuckdoll nuns stacked on either side of the door, the uninitiated would have supposed a ravening sexual beast to be encountered in Priapus room. A colossus; a minotaur, some sort of demon of sexual propulsion.

But Priapus was just a man. Post Christfall, but still a man.

Syncletia stood, and crossed herself.

Priapus did nothing for a few seconds, continuing his inspection of the paperwork, and eventually swivelled on the chair and looked at her.

'Ah, Syncletia,' Priapus said, 'that's saved me a job.'

Syncletia inclined her head submissively. Priapus wagged his finger.

'I was going to have to send for you. It's most convenient you're here. We need to talk about that performance in the masturbatorium yesterday. Now would you kindly explain yourself?'

Priapus was in a black habit that was almost floor-length. As the Prior spoke, Syncletia's eyes started to bulge out as she noticed the very bottom of the garment, only about four or five inches from the bare floor, start to move as if something was agitating it from underneath.

Devoutly, Syncletia let her eyes drop whoreishly and her mouth droop open, registering, with perfect dumb-slut stupefaction, her acknowledgement that Priapus's elephantine dong was beginning to reawaken after his evening's exertions.

'I'm waiting, Syncletia.'

Syncletia let her eyes flick up to meet Priapus's gaze, before letting them one more lower down and lock on to the way that Priapus's garment was beginning to be lifted up. It was a jaw-dropping spectacle.

'Sorry Prior. Brother Faustus suggested I visited the masturbatorium in order to investigate a holy vision experienced by one of the onanites.'

Priapus said nothing for a second, and then picked up the papers and ruffled them on his desk, casting an eye over them before turning his gaze back to the whore nun.

'I am forced to confess that I find these reports of your conduct yesterday really quite disturbing. A total of forty-five onanites are currently being cared for in the infirmary. That's forty-five permanent goonlinks to Christ that we had -- good ones at that -- gone in a heartbeat. So many stored up ballsacks full of holy juice -- scrupulously and devotedly pent up, mind you -- expelled in an instant. For most of them it was a lifetime of devotion. The nuns in the infirmary are trying their best down there, but they think as many as three quarters of them will never attain erection again, never mind jerk their fuck tubes in holy service of Christ. They will all have to be replaced. And as for Spyro, I cannot tell you what you put that man through. Our most dedicated prelapsarian. Gooning like a fucktard for twenty hours a day. A meagre four hours sleep a night for thirty years, all spent in the transport of prayer, and then you, Syncletia, you go down there and an unblemished life is... well, blemished.'

As Priapus spoke, Syncletia's eyes were glued to that way that the Prior's cassock was steadily becoming elevated as the truly monstrous appendage that he kept between his legs was achieving tumescence. At the end of the Prior's speech, the massive, fat, heart-shaped, throbbing, smooth, weeping purple head was clearly visibly, protruding directly outwards from Priapus's groin and coming up horizontally to point directly at her. The bulging crown was dripping a thick, syrupy stream of transparent, gluey precum that slopped onto the floor between his feet, and the thing kept growing larger and larger in front of her eyes. At the moment is was the size of her clenched fist, but it was rapidly and visibly gaining in its dimensions.

Not taking her eyes off it, Syncletia spoke to the cock, rather than the man.

'I believe my intervention was necessary to gain access to the vision experienced by the dumb goon pig retard in the masturbatorium. He was cock linked to another brother and everything I carried out there was upon Spyro's advice.'

'Yes. Spyro has confirmed that, Syncletia. I can't say your enthusiasm did much for his stutter. It took us half an hour to get that out of him.'

Syncletia nodded, relieved.

'It may interest you to know that Spyro has come to think of an orgasm administered by yourself as a higher form of religious ecstasy than gooning itself.'

By now Priapus's monster phallus was toweringly erect. A vast column now, it rose and rose until it was pointing upwards, the cassock draping off it until all the heavy fabric unsheathed from the flesh mast stickily and fell with a thick slop, heaping in folds in Priapus's groin. Now the veiny, thick, muscle cock was more or less pointing directly at the ceiling, and the whole organ was lubricated in thick waves of clear precum that were sliding down it like caramel.

In order to address her, Priapus put the back of his hand against the monstrous, steaming shaft, and parted it to the side so that it didn't obstruct his vision of the bimbo whore acolyte.

'I don't like losing the functionality of the masturbatorium, but it can be rebuilt. At the moment I am more interested in what you gleaned from this vision.'

Syncletia tried her best not to be distracted by the immense, vein-thronged, glossy, meat pole in front of her. But it was impossible.

'May I finger myself as I talk, Prior?'

'Please do,' Priapus said. He turned his hand the other way, curled it around the shaft, and, very slowly, started to take long, eighteen-inch stroked up and down the forearm-thick pole, all the way from base and twisting around the massive clublike tip, the movement accompanied by a rich, thick, sticky sound as he massaged his precum into his pussy destroying monster cock.

'I believe that the vision confirms that something is coming into the world. I know this because it intersects with dreams I have been having for some time. I do not know what it is, but I believe it has great power. It is calling to me. It should be sought out.'

The blonde fuckdoll's teeth captured her lip almost at the point of orgasm as Syncletia finished her short disquisition.

'You've never left the convent, Syncletia. It's dangerous out there.'

'Nevertheless...' Syncletia said, sliding her fingers inside her pussy and pumping and pumping it, 'I am being called to. There were words matched to the vision. "Cock Comes."'

Priapus stopped stroking his penis and allowed it to wave up in the air in front of him. The meaty shaft was so huge it obscured his face. With enormous control, the Prior exerted control over his pc muscle and lowered the monster, fleshy spunk gun until it was levelled horizontally at Syncletia, the whole thing looking like a huge cannon that was being aimed to fire.

'I have no doubt that what you say is true,' the Prior said, 'I myself have encountered more than a few stimulating bursts of religiosity here and there over the past few weeks. Hence the... contretemps you saw outside my quarters.'

Syncletia tweaked her nipple with her free hand.

'Clearly this must be investigated. And clearly by you. However, you will not venture out alone. You must be chaperoned. There's no telling what's out there these days. If good, or ill, when you encounter whatever this thing is, your whoreishness in the service of the Risen Christ will enable you to deal with it. You are best accompanied on the journey, however. We would not wish to lose you.'

'Yes, Prior.'

'And what were those words you said accompanied the vision?'

'Cock Comes.'

'UUUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!'

Prior Priapus gritted his teeth, arms clasping the rests of his chair so that his knuckles went white.

Syncletia squirted and shuddered in orgasm, a blast of girlcum shooting out of her quim and splattering into a puddle around her feet as Prior Priapus's behemoth dick started to explosively jet ropes of hot white semen all over her fuckdoll body.

Syncletia got splattered.

The first load escaped in a ripping, explosive volley that jetted from Priapus' dick with a fat, wet squishy sound as it slapped all over Syncletia, impacting with a sticky SSSSPLATTTTTT all over her jutting, pneumatic, super-stacked monster tits, utterly plastering both round flesh balloons, the splattering gush sending a hot cascade of spunk drops that were flung everywhere. Syncletia looked downwards at her enormously protruding knockers and saw a heavy, thick, white webwork of oozing, screamy white cum strings that were plastered over her melons, the whore nun glancing back at Priapus, making eye contact and pushing her plump, bimbo lips together.

'Cock comes, Prior.'

'UUUUUUURRGGGHHHHHHH!!!!'

The next blast surged like a ripple of muscle all the way up his massive shaft, bloating it in section after section, and almost instantly another enormous spray was loosed that bucketed a fat, wet, hot steaming horseload into Syncletia's face, a rich load of pearly-coloured sperm that volleyed out of the tip of his cock and utterly splattered the stacked, tatted, cum-coated blonde bimbo nun all over her eyes, cheeks, nose, mouth and forehead. Again, pearls of cum sprayed off at the impact, so fierce was the projection of dick juice, but most of it just stuck to her where it landed.

'Fucking WHHHOOOOOORREEEEEEE!!!!' Priapus yelled as he now put both hands on his dick and started to jerk himself off.

Cranking his convulsing, massively huge and fleshily pulsating fuck cannon, both hands working up and down the enormous, throbbing schlong, the Prior drenched Syncletia with yet another and another bucketload of loin syrup, thick, white, creamy, that pummelled Syncletia's face and tits with more sticky volleys of heavy jizz. Syncletia pulled her fingers from her pussy and began to grope her massive tits, slickly working her fingers around the cum-splattered orbs.

Prior Priapus managed to stand and ferociously drew another twenty blasts of spunk out of his rigid, volatile fuck stick that completely covered Syncletia's body in his white load, and by the time he has finished it had obscured half her tattoos and was roping off all angles of her torpedo tits and dangling in heavy threads off her nose, chin, eyelashes and jaw.

'Fucking dumb bitch,' Prior Priapus said, 'bless you.'

Syncletia nodded, and through sticky cum-speckled eyelashes was forced to wince a bit as she crossed herself, bringing spunk covered fingers to her lips on the final pass. She drooled spunk from her mouth.

'Thank you Prior.'

Prior Priapus's massive dick finally hung loose between his legs, threads of thick spunk oozing from it and dripping all the way to the floor.

'Go to the templars. Dress for the journey and pick yourself a chaperone to accompany you.'

Syncletia nodded and opened the door.

'And send in a couple of your sisters, will you?' The Prior said, as Syncletia departed.