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Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2006 15:19:13 +0000
From: Richard Howells <richard963@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Convent Toilet Slave

I was on a cycling holiday in Eastern France, it was the thing to do in the
seventies - there being no cheap air flights! At Cambridge I was studying
Modern Languages and I thought a three week cycling tour of Lorraine and
Alsace would be good for my education, and boy, how it was.

On the first Saturday in the late afternoon, I was travelling at speed, down
a hill and as I turned a corner, I ran wide and went it the gravel. The
wheels skidded and I slide off sideways. My body hit a door and it burst
open. My head hit the door jam and I lost consciousness.

When I came to I was surrounded by women, some in dresses and others in
nun's habits.

"Am I in heaven?"  They smiled but didn't speak. It took it a bit of time
and then I realised I was in France and they didn't understand me, so I
scrabbled around in my brain and translated into French.

"Bon Jour, est ici heaven?"

"Mais non, monsieur cette une convent"

I was in quite a bit of pain and I looked down and my thigh was all
scratched and bleeding - my shorts had been torn in the slide along the
road. Two nuns helped me walk into their convent and into a reception room.
There, they washed my cuts. I asked after my bicycle and two women went out
and pulled it into the yard.

After the treatment they helped me go to the bike and take the panniers off,
which held my spare clothing. I extracted a pair of trousers. Another woman
came into the room. She was dressed in an ordinary frock and seemed to be in
charge - and she spoke English.

"Who are you and why have you come here? This is a Convent and a Retreat for
abused women. We do not allow men here."

"I'm sorry, madam, but have had an accident and I fell through your Entry
Door. Can I change into these somewhere, s'il vous plait?"

She helped me to a small bedroom on the first floor. I had difficulty
walking up the stairs and my arm hurt.

"This is the bedroom that is used by the priest when he stays. You can
change here."

"Fine" and I sat down and changed out of my shorts.  I walked back out of
the room and the woman in charge, who was called Jeanne, took me down to the
Rectory. Apparently the convent used to have about 100 of nuns. The Germans
had raped and pillaged the convent in the war, and reduced the numbers.
Recently very few young girls came forward to become Brides of Christ.

"Nowadays, we have six old nuns and eighteen women who have retreated from
the world or have been abused by men and want to get away. They pay what
they can and spend as long as they like here. We are supported financially
by the Church and by rents from the local village. Also we sell our own
brand of Liquor."

"Could I stay here until I recovered my strength please? "

"Well, if this was only a convent, a man would not even be allowed over the
threshold, but since we are a retreat now as well, I think you could stay a
few days."

She showed me round and introduced me to some of the women but not the nuns.
They all had work to do, cleaning, cooking, bottling and they also had
discussion groups. Everyone attended the chapel twice a day.

"You can stay in the Priest's room. It is close to the communal lavatories
and wash room."

She took me in, and I saw wooden partitioned seated toilets on the left room
with four cubicles on each side, eight in all. There were no doors on any of
the cubicles. In the right hand room there was a line of hand basins facing
mirrors, and on the other side, on the right hand wall, four cubicles of
shower units.

"We recently had the seated lavatories installed. - before that there was
just holes in the floor. The older nuns were having trouble squatting down
and getting up again."

I noticed that at the far end of the lavatories, there was a cubicle which
had a plank about twelve inches wide behind it, going from the toilet
cubicle into the washroom area, through a large hole in the wall. The seat
consisted of two side supports held about six inches above the bowl.

"What is that toilet cubicle with the plank for?" I asked Jeanne.

"Oh, that was used for punishing the nuns who disobeyed the Mother Superior.
We only use it for amusement now."

I looked at the device closely. The plank came through the back of the
toilet so that it jutted out into the bowl. The other end of the plank
extended out and was resting on another toilet bowl and had a circular hole
cut in it. Half way along, there was a wide leather strap dangling down the
side. I wondered what it would be like to be strapped on it, and my penis
twitched at the idea of licking a load of cunts and being pissed on.

I spent the rest of the afternoon fixing my bike.  I also talked to some of
the women - some were friendly and a few hostile. By the evening, I was
feeling much fitter and I drank several glasses of wine with my meal.
Afterwards I was given a glass of their liquor. It tasted sweet and was not
as strong as Green Chartreuse or Benedictine. I liked it and had another
glass. Unfortunately, I got into an argument with three of the abused women,
who had taken a dislike to all men. The upshot was, that I was bundled
upstairs into the toilet and strapped to the plank in the toilets. My
trousers were pulled down and my ankles were tied to the side of the bowl.

I woke up the next morning with a bad headache at the sound of a bell. I
could see sunlight and I could hear some of the women talking amongs
themselves. They were laughing and pointing at me. Then one came over to my
cubicle, and lifted her nighty and squatted over my face. I looked up
between her thighs and she looked down at me. Her pubic hairs were tickling
my nose and I opened my nose to protest but then she started to piss and my
mouth was suddenly full of it. I had to swallow - it was hot and salty. When
she finished, I  licked up the last few drops., then she rose up off me and
looked down.

"That's for leaving me you bastard,." and she pulled down her nighty. The
next one came on top of me and did the same, but this time I kept my mouth
shut. The third woman went round to the other end and I felt her play with
my prick until it was hard enough for her to sit on it. She didn't insert it
into herself but rubbed her cunt up and down it, then pissed over it.

I was left in peace for a bit and I could see other women coming in and
using the hand basins. They all looked at me but no one wanted to abuse me.
There was a gap in time while everyone had their breakfast. Then Jeanne came
up to see me with a cup of coffee and a croissant. She let me sit up to
drink the coffee, but made it clear that I was not to move out.  I drank my
coffee and then went and had a piss and shit myself - in a different
cubicle!

"We had a meeting after breakfast and we have decided that you should be
punished for invading our living space"

"But it was an accident!"

"Yes, but you are still here so you must pay for your sins. You must serve a
day strapped on the toilet seat."

Jeanne strapped me down and then pulled her knickers off and sat on my face.

"Embrace my lower hole," she said in French.

I dutifully pushed my tongue up through the mass of hair and licked her
cunt. She moved it up and down until I felt her clitoris at the top of her
slit. I licked hard and put my teeth on it, to give her a sensation of pain.
She cried out and some liquid came into my mouth followed by lot of piss. I
had no option but to swallow it all. My prick was standing to attention. She
got off me and went round to my cock. She grasped hold of it and slid
herself down, then proceeded to fuck me hard. I came very quickly. She
rested a moment or two then climbed off and came back to me to make me lick
my own spunk off her twat, it was like licking ice cream from a cornet.

After that I had a steady stream of women coming in to have a piss over my
face. Then one fat woman, sat her large bum over my face, cutting out all
daylight. I dutifully pushed my tongue up and found her arse hole. It was
wrinkled and closed but I pushed into it. Then to my horror I felt a turd
coming out. I didn't have a chance to pull my head away and the turd came
into my mouth. I struggled not to swallow but it went in any way, followed
by a second one. I had to swallow both. I felt sick. Then she moved back a
bit a let fly with a load of smelly piss. I managed to turn my head and
vomited out the turds.

She stood up and looking down at me through the gap between her fat thighs
said " That's for leaving me for a skinny girl".

My next customers were a pair of plain younger women. One sat on my face
while the other one knelt between her legs and watched closely as she pissed
with her thighs open. My view was of a neatly trimmed bush covering a neat
slit. After she had stopped pissing, I licked the drips off her cunt and
then I pushed my tongue into her vagina. She gave out sounds of pleasure, so
I carried on and flicked her clit with my tongue. She moved her bottom back
and forward as I licked.  Then, suddenly she got up and raced around to the
washroom and grabbed my cock. It was not hard yet, so she rubbed it
vigorously up and down until it was, then speared herself on it. Her friend
ran around with her.

"Stop for a minute and I'll tie this scarf on him otherwise he'll come
before I can use him," and she took a scarf off her neck and tied it round
the base of my prick. Then the first girl carried on moving fast up and
down. She soon finished. It must have been the first fuck for some time for
her. The other girl took her place and similarly pounded my pubic bone. I
was loving it. Eventually she stopped, panting with her head hanging down
and  her hair obscuring her face. She got off slowly, leaving my stiff prick
waving in the air. I hadn't come because of the scarf.

"Shall we finish him?"

" Oh yes, I would love to see it spout!" and she wanked it hard. After a few
strokes I yelled for her to let go. My prick bucked and a stream of spunk
shot up in the air, some of it going onto her face. She smacked it with her
hand.

"Naughty boy, you spat at me!"

My next visitor was an old nun. I knew it was, because everything went
totally black and I could smell an old woman's cunt - pissy.  Before I could
lick it, a stream of piss covered my face. I spluttered as I tried to
breath. When it stopped, I heard her voice say "Use your tongue, use your
tongue". I had no option but to do as she said. I thrust upwards into the
darkness and touched a wet greasy surface. I dutifully licked, but without
enthusiasm. The nun made me lick her for a good five minutes, and then she
lifted off. Thank God there wasn't any more waiting, my tongue ached with
the work!

After that, there was a spell of women coming in to wash their hands before
going to lunch. Soon Jeanne came up with a Baguette with ham and cheese in
it. Plus a glass of rough red wine. It made all the difference.  Jeanne
talked to me, and mentioned that the village priest had come to conduct the
Sunday Service and he had stayed to lunch.

My afternoon session started with the priest coming in. He saw me in the
cubicle and he pissed on my face, laughing as he did so. Then he went round
into the washroom. I could see his face as he bent down to examine my cock
and balls. He gently picked up my prick and fondled it a bit, then put it
into his mouth. I became stiff and he took one hand of me and opened his own
trousers fly, (he wasn't wearing his cassock), and started to wank himself.
I was enjoying the attention. He pulled his mouth off me and lifted my two
legs up in the air with his right hand. He then put his head lower and
licked my arse hole, all around the rim, then inside it.

Next he stood up and pushed his stiff prick into my hole, still holding my
legs in the air. It slid in nicely without any pain, but just felt a bit
queer. I had been buggered at my Boarding School and knew what to expect. At
the same time he reached down wanked me. I felt him come in my rectum, and
he slowly slid out of me. He then let go of my legs and moved down on his
knees. He took me in his mouth and moved his head up and down until I came.
His mouth felt delicious, so smooth and warm.

The afternoon was quiet after that, and then I was un-strapped by a nice
looking red haired woman. She wanted to make a wax model of my penis.

"I'm Marie, and I run the Art Classes here. We make candles for the church
and as I haven't seen a penis for so long that I want to have something to
keep."

"Yes, I am happy for you to make a model of my cock, I am proud of my seven
inches."

I slid out of my cubicle and sat up on the plank in the washroom. Marie
started to get me stiff by wanking me and then put her mouth down on me. She
continued to suck until she felt my ball sack tighten, prior to ejaculation.

I turned over onto my front so my cock hung down in the bowl. Marie pushed a
container of nearly hot wax up to enclose all my genitals. She held it there
for a minute. The heat was not too much at first but I had to ask her to
take it off before it was cooked!  Marie carefully pulled the wax container
off my prick, and put it in a sink of cold water.

"That's my work done, now for some pleasure," and she pulled off her
knickers and came and sat on my lap. We kissed gently and let our tongues
mingle. I could feel my prick resurrecting it self under her.  She moved
herself up and then slid down on it.

"This is good. I haven't had a fuck since I left my brute of a husband."

She moved slowly at first and then started to really bounce on me.

"Oh Yes, that's it I'm coming."

I didn't come even though I wanted to, so I picked her up, turned her onto
the plank, with my prick still inside her. I really fucked her hard until I
came.
That exhausted me. I rested my head on her chest and caught my breath. That
was the third time I had come that day or was it the fourth? More times than
I had come in six months!!

Soon after Marie left, there came a flurry of women getting ready for
dinner. Most didn't use me, but three did. They plonked themselves down on
my face and pissed straight off with no licking allowed. One had a small
shit and the turd landed on my neck and fell off sideways. Then Jeanne came
up and unstrapped me.

"You can get up now, your punishment has finished. Have a shower and come
down for dinner".

I undressed out of my piss-laden shirt and pulled off my trousers off my
ankles. The water was nice and hot and all the shit and sweat of the day was
washed away.  I had a quiet dinner, with some of the women smiling at me and
the others ignoring me. I didn't stay for glass of liquor but went off to
bed.

I was woken by Jeanne, as I had slept through the morning bell. I sat down
with her for my bread and coffee breakfast. As I was drinking it, a buxom
young girl, obviously a peasant, came up to Jeanne and whispered in her ear.
Jeanne looked at me and replied quietly.

"Yes, alright then, I'll bring him along in a minute." She turned to me and
said

"You have one more duty to perform, come with me."

She took me into the big old kitchen and into a small larder room on the
side. There, the young girl was waiting for us. She was leaning on a table
with her drawers around her ankles and she was rubbing her cunt with a lewd
smile on her face. As she saw me, she turned around, rested her arms on the
table and pushed her bum out.

"Clare has simple needs, and normally the priest `services` her on Sunday,
but I believe he came to you yesterday? Well, you will have to take his
place today."

"I would be happy to" I replied. Jeanne left us to it.

I pulled down my shorts and pants and rubbed my prick to get it stiff. I
also dropped to my knees and licked up her thighs to her open cunt. It was
very wet and I enjoyed pushing my face in to it. My nose went into her arse
hole which smelt a bit shitty, so I saw moved my head up and licked it
clean. Then I stood up and pushed my cock into her juicy hole. It was easy
fucking, and she soon cried with her coming.  I carried on, and she turned
her head and pointed to her arse hole saying, in French,

"Come in my hole for shit, you can make no babies in that place."

So I pulled out of one hole and pushed into her other one. This was much
tighter and I soon had an enjoyable orgasm. I sagged back from her and
slipped out. Clare turned around and fell to her knees to take my limp dick
in her mouth, licking and sucking it. What a service.

Jeanne came back in then and watched her for a few minutes. Then she lifted
her dress and rubbed her self through her knickers.

"Come here Clare, and see to me, please."

Clare left me dangling, and walked on her knees to Jeanne, where she pushed
her head between her open thighs to kiss her cotton panties. Clare reached
up and pulled them down and dived right in to lick Jeanne's cunt.

"That's it, .... right there, .....harder .... harder " and spasmed as her
came.

We went back to her office and I colleted my panniers. Jeanne wrote down
name my name, and my Cambridge address. She gave me a bottle of their
liquor, carefully wrapped in paper, as a present `for services rendered`.
She walked me out to the outer gate. It seemed like a long time since I had
crashed into the convent door. I kissed her on both cheeks, as is the
fashion in France.

" I am glad I was able to bring `relief` to your abused women."

I mounted my bike and went off, slowly and carefully down the hill. Some
months later, I received a letter from Marie, thanking me for my `donation`.
It appears that she made a bronze cast of my penis and more than one copy!
One bronze penis had been secured to the washroom side of the toilets for
the continuing `relief` of the lonesome women. What a nice way to remember
me.