Anonymous - The Autobiography of a Flea, Book 3

I had never known that a road could be so torturously crooked, for nearly every two or three minutes, with a little squeal of giggle, Marisia tumbled against the good Father, who murmured some chiding or soothing formula to ease her sweet confusion. But after about a dozen or more such pressures against my confining prison, I began to believe that the road itself could not be altogether blamed for these losses of equilibrium; for Father Lawrence did not seem to sway no matter how much the raven-haired baggage flung herself to his side. And thereby I concluded that the ingenuous little peasant virgin was purposely pretending to be tipped by the errant hooves of the thundering horses, for the sole reason that she wished to enchant Father Lawrence to the utmost and so he would renounce his vow of chastity and continence as regards her (for I had not heard him take that selfsame vow with any other female since my flea-ish gaze had first reposed upon his virile countenance) and grant her the dispensation of her maidenhead.

Finally, much to my relief, he murmured, “Come, my daughter, lay your head upon my shoulder and put your arm about my waist to sustain yourself against the harrowing ardors of our journey, for I would not have you overly fatigued and bruised. That tender creamy skin of yours must have no marring bruise on its lilial surface, or my colleagues, in their examination of you when your novitiate is come upon, will pronounce me the rude and unsanctimonious perpetrator.”

Whereupon the naughty minx responded, “Oh, mon Pere, I would not mind if my naked skin were black and blue from head to toe if only you would pluck my little flower and put your great prick deep into my little nestling place, for since I have seen and touched it I have been burning between my legs and only its sojourn there can put the fire out.”

“It is true that spunk is an infallible remedy for inner fires, my daughter, but I cannot grant your wish till my brethren have had ample time to consider you and put you to the test. Yet you will not forget the important tally and the vow you have taken, will you, my daughter? That is the only way you can withhold yourself for the eventuality of my gratifying you as your sweet virgin cunt so passionately desires.”

Rogue though he might be, this virile and robust English ecclesiastic, he was surely an honest one; and I, who have seen much skullduggery and slyly insinuating hypocrisy in this world which the great Voltaire once cynically termed as the best of all possible ones, would not give you tuppence for a Machiavelli as against a brigand who forthwith declared his felonious intentions. Besides, having witnessed too many scenes of licentiousness at the Seminary which we were rapidly approaching, I had decided to champion Father Lawrence against the horde of well-fed, complacent, worldly prelates who would assuredly seek to best this novice priest in their midst by making off with all the sensual spoils – that is, and as the French say, ca va sans dire, could I but manage to fly out of this intolerable locket.

“Oh, I will remember it, mon Pere,” sweet Marisia sighed, “for I have no one in the world save you to comfort me.”

“Spoken like a grateful and devout daughter, dear child! Now it is paramount that you and your new friends Denise and Louisette learn as quickly as you can some of the vagaries of our English tongue, so you will not be at too great a disadvantage before my colleagues, who are eloquent in that language as they are in Latin. And there are even some who will roll out and thunder forth the most sonorous of Latin tags, thus thinking to impress and convert you to their doctrines. Be on your guard, my daughter, and when you find yourself before an imponderable dilemma, say to them, 'I have taken a vow of chastity, Your Reverence.' Let me hear your sweet rosy lips intone those words, Marisia.”

Whereupon the raven-haired maiden echoed the sentiment with the most charming, lisping French accent, and I felt that, given her inherent sauciness and naively inventive gifts, she might yet escape the odious fate that had befallen the by now thoroughly fucked-out Julia and Bella. And yet the perils Marisia faced were legion, for how could she, with all the spoken vows upholding chastity she might conjure up at the imminent moment of her deliverance from virginity, gainsay the ravening hunger of these seminary monks whose penchant for tasty, fresh, unsullied cunt surpassed even their appetite for good food and drink?

“Oh, admirable, my daughter,” he delightedly exclaimed, “and if your new friends learn only that supplicatory phrase, they too may hope to save their cherries from being devoured by those who would think only of their own selfish gustatory pleasures and not one whit about the immortal souls of the maidens from whom they plunder such sweet tidbits!”

As if to answer my own unspoken – and, even if spoken, surely impossible of hearing by human ears – Father Lawrence expatiated on this theme: “For, look you, Marisia my daughter, there is a virtue in what might be called passive resistance to adversity. When danger threatens and the odds are seemingly insuperable, the meek answer turneth away wrath. Now, who could fault you on your precocious devoutness if, when it seemed inevitable that the possessor of some angrily throbbing, violently swollen cock would not be satisfied till he had plunged that fearsome tool into the floss-veiled niche of your virgin pussy, you were to lower your modesty as befits a gentle, inexperienced maiden, and say, 'Oh, I must not, Your Reverence, because I have taken a vow the breaking of which would imperil my hope of redemption!' Oh, no, my daughter, in the face of such humility and piety, only the most unprincipled of villains not fit to wear the black of the holy order could dare to spurn your petitioning and force himself, huffing and puffing and his face crimson from immodest congestion, into the sanctorum!”

“I perceive your drift, mon Pere,” Marisia answered thoughtfully, “but I am only a frail girl, hardly out of puberty. How could I refuse a goodly man, the more so if he waxed fearfully irate with me for my disobedience?”

Could it be that this untutored peasant girl had already anticipated the wisdom of a newer adage that holds that when rape is inevitable, 'tis well to submit and enjoy it out of sheer discretion? Oh, clever, guileful, virginal Marisia, prize among maidens, who would fain eat her cake and have it too!

“In my own turn, sweet child, I discern your meaning,” Father Lawrence responded. “But remember the stripling David bested mighty Goliath, champion of the Philistines, by employing both prayer and stratagem. And even then, if all else fails, consider that when one is overpowered in spite of every ruse and supplication, the sin is lifted to repose squarely on the shoulders of the brutal seducer who is too callous to be moved by prayerful entreaty or tearful timidity.”

“Oh, mon Pere,” Marisia's fertile young mind was not yet done with this theoretical embroidering, “I am comforted by your words, and yet it greatly troubles me to think that even if I am overpowered against my will and, as you say, am not capable of mortal sin, my frail body may experience improper yearnings roused by the very force that overtakes me. What then, mon Pere?”

“Why, then, my daughter,” he said after a moment's pondering, “you are still blameless, for without the brutal usage of force against your tender cunt, you would not experience these naughty emotions of your own virginal accord. But one last question, my dear child – have you yet come to the curse visited upon Eve, by which I mean your monthly time when nature compels you to reject even the most desirable of suitors?”

Marisia giggled. “Oh, oui, oui, mon Pere, mon temps de la lune, oui, only a month before I came to stay with Tante Laurette, it came upon me.”