A young novice nun

Angela wasn’t even allowed to call herself a sister –
not technically speaking. At sixteen she was only in
her second year of the novitiate, a trainee nun who had
to bob her head to the full-fledged sisters when she
met them in the corridors of the convent or when they
entered the classroom at the start of a lesson.

If she thought of herself as Sister Angela, it was
because her vocation to the order was so strong and
certain within her, and she was so completely sure that
when she finished her novitiate she would take full
vows and become a bride of Christ.

In the meantime, she led a life of strict chastity,
self-denial and obedience, in competition with the
other novices but more importantly with herself to be
as blameless, selfless and spiritually spotless as she
possibly could.

Angela was beautiful, but she didn’t know that she was
beautiful. The sheltered life she led, surrounded
entirely by women, gave her no opportunity to learn
from others’ reactions how attractive the contrast was
between her slim figure and her large breasts, or how
gorgeous her child-like face. The only hint she might
have noticed was that she was allowed to wear her
beautiful, fine blonde hair down over her shoulders.
Rather than cut it to neck-length like the other
novices.

Of course most of the time it was bound up anyway, so
the difference was less obvious – but it was a
concession made precisely because the older nuns
couldn’t bear to spoil Angela’s perfect beauty, poised
as it was between the innocence of the child and the
voluptuous curves of womanhood.

It was the innocence that troubled Sister Bridget the
most. She was aware that despite the seclusion of
convent life, it took a tough soul to stick to it year
after year. Life in a closed order was sometimes bleak
and hard, and it pained her to think of such an
untried, naive girl as Angela entering that world
without having any experience of anything else. In a
way it seemed to negate the essence of her choice if
she chose on the basis of ignorance of the wider world.

It was because Angela was a church orphan. She had been
raised in convent schools all her life, never seeing
the world except through the bars of a convent gate.
Surely that was wrong, Sister Bridget thought. Surely
the child should at least have a taste of freedom
before opting for a life of seclusion – a glimpse of
earthly beauty before choosing to devote herself to the
perfection of her soul.

After pondering this conundrum over most of a year,
Sister Bridget summoned Angela to her study one fine
Spring morning. The gorgeous young girl made a perfect
courtesy, then greeted the older woman with real
affection.

“Angela,” Sister Bridget began, “I’ve had a request
from our sister house in London. They’ve received a
grant to refurbish the older parts of the building, and
they’re hoping to set up an additional dormitory there
so that they can take in intending novices on day
release from the schools nearby. But they need some
help in painting and decorating. Would you like to give
them a hand?”

“Oh yes, Sister!” said Angela, all eagerness. This
sounded like a real adventure. Bridget sincerely hoped
that it would be – and that Angela would enjoy the trip
to London on the train as well as the experience of
working with other young nuns and novices on a shared
task of such importance. She would experience
camaraderie, and the joy of a job well done – and she
would see a little of the world along the way.

So three days later, Father Connell drove Angela to the
Oxford railway station and put her on a train to
London, clutching her ticket, a letter of introduction
to Mother Andreas at the London house, and a small
purse with a twenty pound note in it in case of
emergencies.

Father Connell stayed until the train left, waving
goodbye to Angela until the train turned a bend and she
was out of sight. Then he drove back to the convent to
meet a flustered Sister Bridget. “They’ve just phoned
from London!” she said.

“They said they’ve been delayed and they won’t be able
to meet Angela’s train. She’s to wait at the inquiries
desk for half an hour until they arrive – but she won’t
know that! What are we to do?”

Father Connell quieted Sister Bridget’s fears. He said
he’d phone ahead to King’s Cross and ask for a message
to be read out over the tannoy. Angela would hear it
and would know what to do.

But the best laid plans don’t always work out as
they’re meant to. Angela’s train was delayed for five
minutes, and though Father Connell’s message was read
out in due course, she walked out onto the station
concourse just in time to miss it completely.

It worried the young girl at first that there was
nobody there to meet her. But she knew that the London
convent was busy and short-staffed, and she reasoned
that something important must have come up to prevent
them from sending someone. So she would use her
emergency money and take a taxi.

Carrying her single suitcase, which wasn’t very heavy,
she walked out of the station building into the street.
It was very busy and full of traffic. She looked around
for a black cab, knowing what they were meant to look
like, but there were none in sight. There were several
mini-cabs, however, and she approached the first of
these.

The two men in the front seat watched her approach with
evident interest. Her beauty was enough to make her
stand out in a crowd – and the contrast between her
lovely face and body and her austere black novice’s
gown made an even stronger impression.

“Hello,” she said to the two men. “I need to get to the
convent at Highgate. Could you take me there?”

There was a pause that lasted long enough for Angela to
be sure she’d made a mistake. Blushing, she opened her
mouth to apologise and move on, but then both men spoke
at once.

“Sorry, love,” said the driver. “We’re not here to…”

But the man in the passenger seat interrupted him.

“It’s no problem, though, Jimmy, is it? You hop in,
love.

We’ll get you there inside of ten minutes.”

The man addressed as Jimmy stared at his friend in
astonishment, meeting a very intense and meaningful
stare in return.

“Oh. Yeah,” he said at last. “No problem, of course.
Yeah. We can do that.”

The other man – not Jimmy – got out of the car and
opened the rear door for Angela. He took her suitcase
from her, and she climbed in with a smile of thanks.
Then he did something to the lock mechanism in the
door. “Case you fall out,” he said with a bright smile,
and slammed it closed.

Then he got back into the car and Jimmy pulled away
from the curb.

Angela settled into her seat and looked all around,
excited that her London adventure was beginning. Then
to her horror she saw in the car’s rear view mirror her
suitcase left on the pavement behind them, already
receding into the distance.

“My case!” she blurted. “It’s got all my clothes in
it!”

“Er… the next car will take that, love,” said Jimmy
hurriedly. “We work in twos, like. One car for the
passenger, one for the luggage.”

Even to someone as untutored in the ways of the world
as Angela, this sounded unusual. But she supposed that
the driver must know his own business, and she made no
further protest. She just gazed out in happy curiosity
at the bustling city as it unrolled itself past her
window.

Jimmy Heron and Mick Summerfield were pimps,
essentially. They had a few other earners, but most of
their money came from running girls around King’s Cross
Station, and a few in Paddington. They were at King’s
Cross that day to meet a young slag from Wales who was
meant to be on the 11.10 – but it was nearly mid-day
and it was clear that the bitch had either not come or
had missed them somehow.

So when Mick saw Angela, his first thought was “Tasty
bit of cunt. Wonder if she’s legal.” Then his second
thought, following quickly on its heels, was that the
afternoon might not be a total waste after all.

Now they had the beautiful little girl in the back of
the car, and nobody who gave a fuck about her would
have the slightest idea where she was. Raping this
little chick would burn off some of their frustration
and annoyance and help to pass an afternoon that had
suddenly become vacant.

Angela was in blissful ignorance of these callous
calculations, but she was puzzled and a little unnerved
when the car, after about ten minutes’ driving, turned
into a narrow street on a run-down estate.

“Is this Highgate?” she asked doubtfully.

“Yeah,” said Mick. “This is… er… the shabbier end
of Highgate. I think the convent’s on the next street
along, but I thought we could stop and ask for
directions.”

Jimmy stopped the car and Mick jumped out. Angela tried
her own door, but of course Mick had put the child-lock
on and it didn’t open.

“Just stay put, love,” Jimmy told her. “This’ll just
take a minute, okay?”

Mick ran up the driveway of the house where they’d
stopped, then unlocked and opened the roll-over door of
the garage. Jimmy pulled the car into the drive and
then rolled it carefully into the garage. As the garage
door slammed closed behind her, Angela felt the first
stirring of unease.

But by then, of course, it was far too late.

“I’d like you to let me out now,” she faltered.

“Yeah, sure love,” said Jimmy. He opened his own door,
then hers. Angels climbed out, finding herself pressed
up against Jimmy because the space was so narrow. He
grinned at her in the half-dark of the garage. “Bit of
a tight squeeze, eh?” he said cheerfully. “You just
follow me. Soon have you out of them wet things.”

Angela’s eyes widened. “They’re… they’re not wet,”
she pointed out.

“No,” agreed Jimmy. “But that’s a small detail, innit?”
He grabbed her arm and hauled her, a little roughly,
through a small door that connected the garage to the
house. Mick was letting himself in by the front door at
the same time. Then the two men locked and bolted both
doors with a scary finality.

“I don’t understand,” said Angela, her heart beating
fast.

“I thought we were just asking for directions.”

Jimmy nodded. “You thought that because we told you
that,” he agreed. “But now that we’re inside, I can
quite honestly put my hand on my heart and say that
we’re going to rape you. Repeatedly.”

Before she could even respond, the two men fell on
Angela like a pair of wild animals. She cried out in
surprise and fear, but her cry was choked off by Mick’s
heavy hand as he slapped it over her mouth. Then they
lifted her bodily off her feet and carried her through
into the living room. Later on they were going to rape
her in comfort on the big double bed that had seen a
lot of similar action over the years, but the living
room was where the beer was, and it made sense to start
there.

They dumped the little girl unceremoniously down on the
sofa, and as she opened her mouth to scream Mick lamped
her one across the face with his open hand. Her head
bounced off the pillow and her breath escaped her in a
wuff, momentarily silencing her.

“Listen,” Mick said. “Now listen, just listen!” He held
up a warning finger in front of Angela’s face, and the
terrified girl took a deep, gulping breath. More
screams were welling up inside her, but she managed to
swallow them for the moment and stared at Mick with
big, scared eyes.

“Good,” Mick said approvingly. “Listen, girlie, here’s
how it is. You’re some sort of nun, are you?”

“I-I’m a novice,” Angela said, barely audibly.

“A what?” Mick snapped.

“A novice,” she blurted. “I-I’m training to be a nun.”

“Okay,” Mick nodded. “Well we’re going to open up
another career path for you, alright? We’re going to
teach you how to fuck. Then when we’re done, if you
decide you’d still like to be a nun after all, we’ll
clean all our spunk out of you, give you some ointment
for your sore cunt and let you go. Is that fair?”

Angela knew how babies were made, in theory at least,
and so she had some tiny inkling of one of the many
things these two men were about to do to her – but in
her sheltered upbringing she’d never encountered the
words “cunt” or “spunk”. In any case, she couldn’t
answer: she opened her mouth, but the words died in her
throat. Mick took that as a yes.

“Right, get your kit off and let’s have a butcher’s at
you,” he said. Angela didn’t move.

“Your clothes,” Mick roared, impatiently. “Get your
fucking clothes off.” When Angela remained frozen in
terror and shock, he grabbed her by the front of her
gown and brought her face up close to his.

“Listen, you stupid little bitch,” he said, “you may
have been a nun when you went to bed last night, and
you might be a nun again tomorrow, but today you’re a
fuck-toy, and we’re gonna rape seven kinds of shit out
of you. That’s gonna happen, like it or not. But if you
don’t do as you’re told, we’re also gonna beat seven
kinds of shit out of you. You probably won’t survive if
we do both.”

Trembling like a leaf in a gale, Angela tried to get
her gown off. It was awkward at the best of times, and
it seemed to take forever. When it was still only
halfway over her head the men were putting their hands
up between her legs, hauling off her knickers and
exploring the virgin territory beneath.

“Cute little snatch,” Jimmy said, stroking her cunt
lips with his thick, blunt fingers.

“Nice arse, too,” Mick said, poking at the little
puckered rosebud of her bumhole. “Fuck, this is gonna
be great!”

They threw Angela’s gown down on the floor, and her bra
followed a moment later. Last to come off was the
silver crucifix that hung around her neck. Jimmy took
this off, and waved it over her in a jockey
benediction. “For what we are about to receive,” he
said with a lecherous grin, “may the Lord make us truly
thankful.”

Her big breasts delighted them, and soon they were both
licking on her nipples as they continued to play with
her nether holes. Angela tried to explain to them, in a
quavering voice, that a nun was married to Christ.

“It’s alright,” Mick reassured her. “We don’t want to
marry you – just have a fuck on you.”

Under her terrified gaze, the two men got their own
clothes off. Then they shoved her to her knees on the
floor between them and brandished their huge erections
in front of her face. “Get sucking,” Jimmy ordered her.

Angela just barely knew what a penis was. She had never
seen one in her whole life, and the sight of these two
monstrous, turgid hard-ons was absolutely terrifying to
her. She simply had no mental model of what Jimmy was
telling her to do.

So Mick helped her out by grabbing a handful of her
hair and shoving her face down into Jimmy’s crotch.

“Lick it,” he growled. “Lick his knob.”

Gingerly, flinching inwardly, Angela stuck out her
tongue and lapped at the bulbous head of Mick’s huge
penis. It tasted sour, and smelled very strongly of
sweat and musk. Mick gave a grunt of satisfaction at
the initial contact, but soon got impatient with
Angela’s timid ministrations. He told her curtly to
take it in her mouth and suck on it. Angela obeyed, a
single tear of dismay running down her cheek. She
wanted to please her captors, because she didn’t want
them to hurt her, but she had so little idea what they
wanted of her. She suspected with a sinking heart that
her best wouldn’t be good enough.

After a few minutes, Mick grabbed her head and pulled
her over so that her face was in his lap. His colossal
erection stood up in her face so that she was staring
straight down the barrel of it.

“My turn,” he leered. “Come on, Sister. Get sucking.”

Both men continued to snap out instructions at her, and
she obeyed as best she could. Soon she was wanking both
shafts at once as her head bobbed on Mick’s, his broad,
swollen glans going backwards and forwards between her
lips.

Jimmy picked up the remote and they turned the TV on,
because there was a race coming up that he’d placed a
bet on. They watched the pre-race coverage happily,
drinking a can of Tennants Special while Angela orally
pleasured their increasingly straining hard-ons.

Poor Angela’s head was spinning from the musky smell of
the men’s cocks and from the enormity of what she was
doing. Was it even possible to be a bride of Christ
after you’d had a penis in your mouth? Were these two
gigantic fuck-sticks shutting her off from salvation?
She wanted desperately to ask Sister Bridget about it,
but knew that even if she ever saw Sister Bridget again
she’d never be able to find the words.

Then the race came on, and Jimmy’s horse took an early
lead. He got excited, and in his excitement he grabbed
hold of Angela’s head. “Come on, Mother’s Boy,” he
roared, shoving her face down further on his cock.
“Come on, Mother’s Boy! You can do it!” Angela tried to
breathe around the gigantic organ that was filling her
mouth, but it was hard – particularly when Jimmy
started shoving her head roughly up and down, using her
mouth as a wanking implement to help him deal with the
excitement and tension.

But Mother’s Boy went down at the last fence, and Jimmy
was not pleased.

“Fuck!” he cursed. “That’s fifty quid down the sodding
drain!”

“Never mind,” Mick consoled him. “Let’s go on upstairs.

You’ll feel better after you’ve shagged this bitch.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy cheered up. “Come on, Sister. Let’s get
stuck in.”

They half-led, half-carried her upstairs into the main
bedroom, and shoved her down on the bed. This wasn’t
actually a house in which either Mick or Jimmy lived –
it was one of the flophouses their whores used,
although this one was currently unoccupied and they
knew they weren’t going to be disturbed. The dingy
bedroom had no furniture except for the bed itself and
a single chest of drawers. The curtains were nailed
closed.

Jimmy started licking on Angela’s tits again, and after
a while Mick joined him on the other one. At the same
time, both of them were groping between her legs.
Angela gasped as one of Mick’s fingers probed her tight
little vaginal slit – then yelled aloud as Jimmy bit
down hard on her nipple.

The yell annoyed Jimmy, and he smacked her hard across
the face. “You keep your fucking voice down,” he warned
her. “If anyone comes snooping around because of your
noise, I’ll stick one fist up your cunt and the other
up your arse.”

Angela quavered into silence, but made a series of
little gasping bleats as both men continued to chew and
bite on her shapely tits. This turned them on a hell of
a lot, and soon they were ready to shag her. They
debated briefly about who was going to bust her cherry.
In the end they tossed a coin and Mick won.

He spread her legs roughly, then got down in between
them and hooked her pussy lips open with his thumbs.
Hawking up some phlegm, he spat three or four times
into her cunthole by way of lubrication.

Then he got on top of her and positioned his dick up
against her vaginal lips. He pushed, and pushed again,
grunting with the effort. Jimmy watched, amazed.

Mick’s erection was a good ten inches long, and
extremely thick – grown women had sometimes winced when
they had to take it. To see it pressing against the
immature fanny gash of this innocent little girl made
Jimmy’s own cock twitch in sympathetic arousal. Angela
cried out in shock and pain and fear. As yet Mick
hadn’t even entered her, but his bulbous knob was
stretching her cuntlips apart.

He shoved again and the knob began to slide into her.
Her head swam. She had never felt a pain quite like it.

“Bleeding Nora!” Mick grunted. “She’s tight as a drum.”

“I’m sure you’ll loosen her up,” Jimmy said, with an
evil chuckle.

Mick put more of his weight into it, and his colossal
prong slid inch by inch up Angela’s virgin slit. She
gave a gasping, shuddering moan that broke up into
incoherent, broken noises that she didn’t even
recognise as her own voice.

“Fucking lovely!” Mick panted – and he rammed home.

Angela fainted at this point. The sheer pain of the
obscene physical invasion – the ramming of such a
gigantic shaft of rampant cock-flesh up into her body –
was too much for her senses to bear. When she came to
again, she found that Mick was on top of her, fucking
her hard up the cunt. It was still agonising – but it
had come down from that unendurable peak of agony.
Either the blood from the busting of her cherry or some
slick of cunt juice that her body had made in response
to this unexpected emergency had lubricated her, and
the monster cock was sliding in and out of her gash
more freely.

Poor Angela couldn’t believe what was happening to her.
Her mind just refused to translate the incredible
sensations coming from between her legs into anything
that made sense to her. A gigantic, rigid pole was
pillaging her tender fuck-tube – a blood-gorged
battering ram topped by a swollen knob like an avenging
fist, hammering at the entrance to her womb. She gasped
and groaned and thrashed on the bed, drifting in an out
of consciousness as her senses were overwhelmed by the
cruel assault on her virginity.

Jimmy was too aroused to just stand by and watch any
more. He climbed onto the bed and straddled Angela’s
face. He shoved his knob and half his shaft into her
mouth and commenced to fuck her face with frantic
thrusts. He was too far gone to care about how the
innocent child would cope with his massive hard-on. He
just needed an orifice to fuck, and he treated her
mouth exactly as he would have treated her vagina. He
cut loose and fucked away at her like a maniac,
cramming his mighty prong between her parted lips and
deep into her gullet.

Amanda was in a desperate plight now. Her breath had
already been knocked out of her by Mick’s brutal slam-
fucking of her tender cunt. Now she had a giant hard-on
shoved so deeply into her mouth that some of it was
past her tonsils, and this cock too was fucking her
hard and fast. Her lips were stretched tight around the
pounding, pumping shaft as it punch-fucked the back of
her throat.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even exercise the
muscles that she’d need to use to take a breath. She
felt that she was going to die there on the bed, with
the two men bouncing up and down on top of her,
ferociously driving their huge columns of gristle into
her vagina and her throat. Blackness swam behind her
eyes…

Then respite came as Mick said “Want to change ends?”

Jimmy pulled his blood-heavy prong out of Angela’s
face.

“Yeah,” he panted. “I’ve got to have a go up her cunt.”

The two men swapped places. Angela was breathing in
shallow, shuddering pants. As Jimmy straddled her face
she stared up at him, her frightened eyes pleading.

“Pl-please!” she blurted. “I c-can’t breathe when
you… when you put your thing in my!”

“Oh stop whining, you fucking little whore,” Mick
grunted, and he crammed his huge, thick dick into her
face. Angela gave a muffled whimper around the
obscenely bloated cock. It was going to start again.
The torture was going to start all over again. “Breathe
through your nose,” Mick advised her tersely, and he
started in to fuck her face.

Jimmy shoved her knees up against her tits so he could
get a good look at her cunt. “Pretty as a picture,” he
smirked.

“We’ll take pictures later,” Mick panted, humping away
on the hapless little girl’s face. “Right now I want to
get my end away.”

Jimmy got between Angela’s legs and shoved his engorged
cock up her in one brutal thrust. Soon both men were
fucking the innocent young novice in tandem, timing
their thrusts so that they didn’t get in each other’s
way as they enjoyed her.

The two men were swept away by lust now. They were
scarcely aware that this was a living, breathing human
being underneath them: each had his turgid cock sunk to
the hilt in a warm, moist orifice, and each fucked
furiously away at it, only concerned with the pleasure
they were getting from those welcoming holes. Angela
lay beneath them, filled at both ends with their
colossal hard-ons, fucked and raped and pummeled until
she didn’t know which way was up.

Mick and Jimmy were very much into rape, and had taken
scores of young girls against their will. But there was
something about the beauty and innocence of this young
trainee nun that inspired them to new peaks of sadistic
pleasure. They gloried in her helplessness and in the
sheer brutality of what they were doing to her.

“You dirty whore,” Mick grunted, as he slammed his cock
deep into her throat. “You dirty, cocksucking whore.
Fucking eat it! Eat my meat, you cunthole bitch!”

Angela gave a dazed gurgle of protest. It was barely
audible above the squeaking bedsprings, the rustle of
cloth and Mick’s stream of invective, but faint as it
was it seemed to galvanise him even more. “You love
it,” he roared, dropping his full weight onto her face
so that his cock was jammed agonisingly against the
back of her throat. “You fucking love it!”

“I’m gonna come!” Jimmy groaned, and then with a yell
of delight he hosed Angela’s cervix with gout after
gout of sperm, shooting off what felt like a pint of
cum inside her. Angela felt that warm squirting
sensation deep in her belly, and in amongst the pain
and the shock she realised that she wasn’t
a virgin any more. A man had emptied his seed into her
vaginal hole. She was tainted now, no longer pure.

Mick generally had more staying power, but Angela’s
hapless moans and the moist, caressing feel of her
throat membranes was too much to him. With a final yell
of “Oh fuuuuck!” he fired off his load into her mouth.
His orgasm was so intense that it was almost painful.

Squirt after squirt of thick, ropey cum fired from his
knob and filled Angela’s mouth. She swallowed and it
filled again. The taste and the feel of the stuff were
like nothing she had ever known before. It was so thick
and viscous that it was hard to get it down, and it had
a salty bitterness that made her choke. This was semen,
she realised: the fluid from which babies were made.
She was drinking a man’s semen as he ejaculated it
directly into her mouth.

Finally the two men climbed off her. “Wow!” said Jimmy,
with a whistle. “That was a great fuck.”

“Yeah,” Mick agreed. “She’s not a bad ride. Let’s go
get a drink. We can screw her again later maybe.”

They didn’t bother to tie Angela up or gag her. They
were only going downstairs, and there was nowhere she
could go. Mick only warned her that if she screamed for
help she’d regret it. “This is a flophouse,” he told
her. “The neighbours know what goes on here. Most of
them use our girls pretty regularly. They’re not going
to help you. But we got to be discreet. So you just lie
there and shut the fuck up until we come back.”

Angela heard their steps retreating and going away down
the stairs. She was too spent and too badly hurt to
respond much.

Over the course of the next hour she recovered slowly.
Her vagina felt as if it had been sand-blasted. It was
sore and swollen and it hurt when she touched it. It
was full of thick, gooey spunk which was oozing out
into her bum-crack. Her lips were swollen too from the
brutal fucking they’d received, and her lower lip was
slightly split. There wasn’t a part of her body that
didn’t hurt.

And her mind hurt too, as she struggled to understand
what had just happened to her. Two men had made love to
her. No, had sex with her. No, not that, even – fucked
her.

They’d put their penises in her vagina, and in her
mouth. They’d used her to bring themselves to orgasm,
and then they’d – – She swallowed hard, and her eyes
filled with tears as she tasted the sharp, bitterness
of Mick’s spunk in her mouth. To lose all her innocence
at once, in the course of one nightmare afternoon… It
seemed hard.

Perhaps she slept. Whether she did or not, they were
suddenly there again. Mick and Jimmy. Her rapists. They
climbed onto the bed on either side of her and thrust
their limp cocks at her mouth. She smelled beer on
Mick’s breath as he belched.

“Come on, slut,” he said. “Give us some head to get us
started.”

The wretched girl had to suck the two men’s cocks again
until they were fully erect and ready for use. They
were clearly going to rape her again, and this time
would be worse because she was already so sore.

It took a while to get Mick and Jimmy hard again. They
were powerfully turned on by their little nun whore,
but they’d had a few beers and they’d fucked her good
and hard only an hour before. When they were still only
half-hard after a few minutes of sucking and licking,
they began to get frustrated.

“Fucking useless bitch!” Mick snarled, shoving Angela’s
head down hard between his legs. “Take it all in, slut.
Deep throat me. Stop pissing around.”

Angela didn’t have the vocabulary to explain that she
couldn’t deep throat a semi-wilting cock – it simply
wouldn’t go all the way into her face. She sucked at
the shaft as best she could, tasting her own cunt juice
and drying spunk around its tip and under its hood. It
wasn’t enough. Mick wasn’t getting any harder.

“Alright,” he said at last. “You asked for it, bitch.”

He dragged Angela off the bed and walked out of the
room, hauling her after him. At the other end of the
landing there was a small bathroom. He dragged her in
there and shoved her down on her knees next to the
toilet. As Jimmy came in after them and closed the
door, she stared up into Mick’s brutal, smirking face
with big, frightened eyes. She knew something terrible
was about to happen, but she didn’t know what.

He aimed his cock at her face. She was expecting to be
told to suck him again, but he didn’t say anything. For
a moment, nothing happened. Then a powerful spurt of
piss came streaming out of his knob and showered down
on her face.

Angela gasped and flinched, ducking away from the warm
spray, but Mick grabbed her by the hair and pulled her
back. “Stay put,” he growled, “and open your fucking
mouth.”

He continued to piss over her face, and Angela had to
bear it as best she could. But she couldn’t bring
herself to open her mouth and let Mick urinate directly
into it. Her heart was beating like a hammer. She had
been ready, or thought she was ready, for another rape,
but this was an entirely different kind of violation
and nothing that had happened so far had prepared her
for it.

The stream stopped momentarily, and Mick bent from the
waist to thrust his face up close to hers. “I won’t
warn you again,” he said. “You open your mouth, because
I’m going to use you as a toilet. And if you don’t
drink my piss and then thank me for it, you’re never
going to see the other nuns again.”

She heard the steel in his voice and knew that it would
be madness to anger him. She opened her mouth.

Mick grunted softly as he released his hold on his
bladder once again, and another jet of piss hit Angela
squarely in the eyes. Then he took proper aim and the
warm yellow torrent was pouring into her mouth and down
her throat. Tears were running freely down her face,
but Mick’s urine washed them away, unseen.

She gulped and swallowed desperately. There was so much
of it – pints and pints and pints of it. She kept
swallowing but there was always more. She felt sick,
bloated, but Mick was still hosing her face with more
and more of his piss. All she could do was drink.

At long last, though, the flood slackened off. Mick
shook his dick one last time and grinned lecherously
down at Angela. “I always like doing that,” he said.
“You should try it some time, Jimmy.”

“I’m gonna try it now,” said Jimmy, sounding as if he
was in a trance. He’d never been into watersports, but
seeing this innocent little girl drinking Mick’s piss
had turned him on more than he would ever have
imagined. He came over and stood in front of Angela. He
shoved his cock into her mouth without preamble. Then,
holding her head firmly in both hands, he let go and
started to piss directly into her mouth.

Angela moaned in dismay and began once more to gulp and
swallow as her mouth filled again with a jetting,
turbulent stream of male piss. Jimmy sighed in
happiness. Emptying his bladder into the young nun’s
pretty face was a powerfully erotic experience.

He’d had a lot of beer, and he continued to urinate
down Angela’s throat for a long time. By the time he’d
finished, her head was swimming and her belly felt
painfully taut.

Then they hauled her back into the bedroom and got
stuck in, now thoroughly aroused and only too eager to
fuck her. Mick took her up the cunt and Jimmy shoved
his dick into her mouth, and they both humped away at
her with groans of delight. Angela felt sick and dizzy.
She’d swallowed two or three pints of their piss and it
was still sloshing around inside her as the two huge
cocks pillaged her mouth and vagina. She was terrified
that she might actually throw up as Jimmy’s cock
plunged in and out of her throat: she might choke on
her own vomit if she did.

But she managed to keep the contents of her stomach in
check, even when Jimmy groaned and blew off an enormous
wad of sperm down her throat. It mixed very queasily
with the urine that she’d already swallowed, but it
stayed.

Mick, however, was still in the mood for fresh thrills.
He pulled out of her snatch and rolled her over on her
stomach.

“Get the jelly,” he told Jimmy.

Jimmy crossed the room, rummaged in the chest of
drawers for a moment and came back with a tube of KY.
Mick got some on his finger and jammed his finger up
Angela’s arse. Taken by surprise, she gasped and moaned
as Mick poked his finger in and out of her little
arsehole. But the assault was over very quickly, and
she was about to relax when suddenly she felt the
massive, swollen head of Mick’s cock pressing against
her bum crack.

She realised what was about to happen a second before
it did. She opened her mouth to scream, but Jimmy was
too quick for her and clamped his hand over her mouth.
All she could do was give an urgent, grinding moan as
Mick forced his gigantic cock right up her arse into
her guts.

It felt like she was splitting in two. The pain was
indescribable – like a red hot poker going right up
inside her, setting her whole body on fire. And then it
got worse as he started to bugger her.

Distantly, through the veils of agony, she heard Mick
say “This is fucking great!”

How long he grunted and pumped behind her she never
knew. It felt like an eternity. But finally warm
wetness flooded her innards and he pulled out. She
collapsed onto the bed, shivering with the after-
effects of the vicious anal deflowering.

“What do you fancy for dinner?” Jimmy asked Mick, as he
wiped his shit-smeared cock on Angela’s gown.

“Could go down the Crown and Anchor,” Mick suggested.

“Depends if you want to do her again,” said Jimmy.

“Do her when we get back. We can tie her to the bed or
something.”

And that was what they did. They got some rope and
strips of cloth and tied Angela’s hands and feet to the
four corners of the bed. Then they shoved her knickers
into her mouth and wrapped some strips of cloth around
her face before binding it tight so she couldn’t make a
sound.

“We’ll just be an hour or so,” Jimmy told her. “Keep
quiet, okay? We’ll probably let you go after we’ve
shagged you a couple more times.”

Then they walked out of the room, and a minute or so
later she heard the door slam.

Angela lay in the silent room as the evening wore on.
She definitely dozed this time, exhausted from the
brutal abuse her body had received. She woke when the
door slammed again, and she heard voices downstairs.
Unfamiliar voices. Her heart leapt as she realised that
the police must have come. Someone had heard the sounds
from the flophouse and called 999. She was going to be
rescued.

Then Mick and Jimmy walked into the room with three
other men, who all looked down at her with eager,
lustful expressions.

“A fucking nun?” one of them asked.

“A trainee nun,” said Jimmy. “Sort of a nunette.”

“Heere, what do you get if you cross a nun with an
Apple iMac?”

“I dunno,” said Mick.

“A computer that never goes down on you.”

The three new men – whose names, Angela learned as they
talked, were Don, Dave and Leo – all handed over money
to Mick and Jimmy, who then left the room.

Then they took their clothes off, untied Angela and got
stuck into raping her.

All three men had gigantic cocks, and the first thing
they wanted was for her to suck them off. They made her
kneel on the floor and they took turns in her face, two
men wanking while the third man presented his hard-on
to her and groaned in lustful delight as she licked and
sucked on it.

She was used to the musky, sweaty smell of cocks now,
and to the way the men started to fuck her face as they
got more excited. Soon she wasn’t really sucking them
at all: they were just pumping their mighty organs in
and out of her mouth, panting and gasping as they used
her face to get themselves off.

Finally the first man, Don, groaned and filled her
mouth with thick gouts of spunk. Then Dave and Leo made
her go down on all fours on the bed and took her front
and back, Dave shagging her up the twat while Leo
continued to rape her face. After a while they changed
ends, and Leo inserted his hard-on up her arse while
Dave gave her a brutal throat-fuck. Both men finally
chose to come in her mouth because they wanted to watch
her face as they let go and pumped their spunk down her
throat.

She hoped that they might have had enough after this,
but of course they hadn’t. They wanted their money’s
worth, and all three men raped her twice more before
they left. By the time they were through with her, she
was exhausted and in agony again, curled up on the bed
with semen oozing out of her cunt and arse to puddle
between her legs. They thanked her for a good time and
left in high spirits. For only fifty quid apiece they’d
just had some of the best sex of their lives.

Mick and Jimmy came back into the room, rolled her over
onto her back and just took her where she lay, Mick
brutally copulating with her mouth while Jimmy buggered
her with great enthusiasm. She hardly noticed. She was
drifting in and out of consciousness now, floating on
an endless, disturbing dream of massive cocks and
endless abuse.

After wards, Mick and Jimmy took her back into the
bathroom, where they gave her a very thorough scrubbing
down in the bath, taking good care to douche her cunt
and arse first with soap and then with detergent. They
knew she’d never be able to find her way back to the
house, but if she went to the police they wanted to be
sure there’d be no genetic evidence that they’d ever
shagged her.

They drove her back to King’s Cross at about 4.00AM,
and shoved her out of the car halfway up St. Pancras
Road. Mick threw her clothes out after her and they
drove off. They kept her crucifix as a souvenir of the
occasion, because this had been a fuck they wanted to
remember.

In due course Angela was found and taken to King’s
Cross police station, in a state of near-shock from the
spectacular abuse she’d suffered. A few days in a
church hospital off Holborn Kingsway took care of the
physical damage – or at least the worst of it. Her cunt
was still very swollen, and it hurt her to pee for the
next two weeks. And she continued to walk with a slight
limp for a month because of the internal bruising
caused by having so many oversized cocks up her arse.

But the psychological effects of the rape were hard to
shake off. Angela couldn’t manage to get back to the
calm, peaceful relationship she’d had with Christ
before she went to London: memories of gigantic hard-
ons pounding away between her legs, of the bitter taste
of spunk pumping onto her tongue, came into her mind
unbidden when she prayed.

Six months after the gang bang, she stole some money
from Sister Bridget’s money box, went back up to London
on an overnight train and hung around King’s Cross
station until two big black men approached her and
asked her how much she charged. “It’s free,” she told
them timidly. “But I want you to wee on me afterwards.”

When she returned to the convent the next day, her cunt
and rectum full of cum, smelling like a men’s toilet,
she told Sister Bridget that she was leaving the order.

She’s working for Mick and Jimmy now, and she’s one of
their most popular girls. She’ll do it in a nun’s
uniform if you ask her to, and none of the punters
realise that it’s the real thing.

Leave a Reply