Anonymous - The Lascivious Monk

“I know that, dear Father.”

“Well then, my dear child, I will tell you what you must do. Tonight, when you have locked yourself into your little room and when you have made sure that nobody is watching you, you must undress yourself completely, so that you are fully naked.”

“My dear God in Heaven! I have to…”

“Yes, there is nothing we can do about that. After you have done this, and you are as dressed as our mother Eve, you must sit down upon the edge of your bed… oh, there is no reason to blush; everything I prescribe is quite natural and for your own good. Then, when you are seated at the edge of your bed, you must put each foot on a stool. The stools must be about three feet away from the bed and they must be about three feet away from each other. This is the correct position. Next, very carefully, you remove the bandage from your finger, as much as possible ignoring the pain which is caused by the devilish swelling and redness. And then you must…”

“What do I have to do next?”

“Then you must put it in!”

Father Pineraide stammered a little and fell silent.

“In what?” Georgette asked naively.

The priest believed that it was no longer necessary to act prudishly. With soft, quiet voice he said, “In the little slit, or rather in the blessed little hole which God has given to women to gather the seed of men in chastity. You must spread your thighs as wide as possible and then carefully, without haste, insert the sick part of your finger in the abode which God prepared for the male member. You must let your finger stay in it as long as possible, repeating the whole procedure about five or six times that night. I am sure that the inflammation and the pain will have disappeared completely by tomorrow morning.”

“I shall do exactly as you have told me, Mon-signor.”

“But promise me that you will tell no one about this divine cure.”

“I promise, Monsignor.”

“And now, my child, you may go.” Father Pineraide got up and with a slight nod of his head, he dismissed little Georgette.

“Oh, one moment,” he said, “before you go. As soon as the pain has disappeared I would like to know about it. Please, don't forget to tell me what happened. It would make me very happy to check the results of my divine cure personally.”

Georgette nodded agreement, and left the priest's home.

“My God,” murmured the priest. “Too bad that I have fucked my heart out today. I would have loved to hump this little girl and take away her cherry.”

Around ten o'clock the next morning the doorbell rang. It was a cheerful ring as if the person who was pulling the rope was very happy. Since the priest was alone on the ground floor-poor Gertrud still could not walk, let alone climb out of her bed-he looked out of the window to see who was there. He was, overjoyed when he saw Georgette who was waiting in front of his home with a happy smile on her face.

A fleeting sneer passed across his face and he thought, “Aha, I knew that my little plan would be successful…”

He quickly wrapped his index finger in the big white bandage which he had kept handy for the purpose, and pinned it against his chest so that it would be clearly visible. Then he went to open the front door.

Georgette was extremely happy… she practically ran into the house, danced for joy and exclaimed, “Aah, Monsignor, I am so terribly happy! The pain is gone, the inflammation broke open and drained completely… all thanks to your cure!”

“God has rewarded you for your faith, my child,” Pineraide sighed, pulling the girl into his bedroom. “You are happy, and that makes me very glad. Unfortunately I cannot say the same for myself.”

“What do you mean, Monsignor?”

“All I want to say,” answered the priest hypocritically, showing his bandaged finger, “is that my finger suddenly developed a severe and very painful inflammation around the nail. It happened all of a sudden in the middle of the night. It must have been because I touched your inflamed finger, and the disease germ must have clung to my skin!”

“Oh, then it is my fault?”

“No, no, my dear child. It is not your fault and you don't have to be so sad about it. Ooh, God, if I were only a woman, then I would not have to suffer very long…”

“Yes, that's true. All you need then is the same remedy I used.”

“But, unfortunately, I am a man, and therefore it's impossible.”

“That's true.”

“Oh, my child, if you would like to…”

“What, Monsignor?”

“Do me a great service…”

“What kind of service?”

“If you would allow me to stick my finger in… ah…”

Georgette blushed deep red.

“But, Monsignor, what are you thinking about?”

“There is nothing serious about it. And surely, God will be very grateful to you…”

“What? I should undress myself before you? I should stand naked in front of a man?”

“A priest of God is not a man, my child.”

“That is true. And, besides, I do not have the right to deny you your wish.”

“You will do it for me?”

“Yes… but under one condition: You must leave the room till I have undressed… otherwise I would die of shame.”

“All right. I will do that.”

“And you definitely cannot come in before I call you.”

“Surely, my child.”

“And, I would like to have your reassurance… I will still become the Queen of Virtue, Monsignor… this will not defile me?”

“Of course not, my child. On the contrary. The finger that I am going to insert into your body is actually God's finger, a hallowed finger. It blesses everything it touches.”

“Then it is all right. Would you please leave the room?”

The priest disappeared quickly into his dining room, and in no time at all had he taken off all his clothes, standing mother-naked in front of the buffet. He deemed it prudent, however, to put his cassock on to hide his nakedness.

Georgette also did not need much time to undress. The dear child firmly believed that she was about to perform a divinely inspired duty, and that her task was a saintly one. She was soon as naked as a newborn child. In this condition she laid down upon the priest's bed, exactly as she had done in her own room. She stood her feet upon two chairs and, to make it easier for the priest to insert his painful finger, she had put a pillow under her firm little buttocks. The chairs were as far apart as possible so that her thighs were spread wide open. After all those preliminaries she took her handkerchief, bound it before her eyes (like children who play Pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey), because she wanted to retain her virtue and did not want to see what was about to happen, and called out, “Monsignor, you can come in!”

“Here I am, my dear child,” answered Pineraide who had been breathlessly waiting on the other side of the door.

When he saw that the young girl had put a blinder before her eyes, the priest was overjoyed. He threw off his cassock and ran over to Georgette who obediently laid down on her back the moment she heard the door open.

The priest, who had had a very restful night and who had become exceedingly horny at the sight of this young, virginal female body, was getting an enormous hard-on. He took his dong in his hand and began to stroke Georgette's tickler with the mighty swollen knob of his prick…

“Ooh, Monsignor,” Georgette sighed, “I can feel your finger… but please, don't move it up and down… against my… against my… well, you know what I mean… I am beginning to get excited, and that is not good when one wants to become Queen of Virtue…”

“Naturally, my dearest child. I will not do it, if you don't want it. I merely did it so that my finger would not hurt you when I stick it in…”