Sister Catherine 's Nighmare - CAW 13 Entry.

This was such an exciting metre for Sister Catherine.

She was a newly initiated member of the Sister of The cleric roue. She had always felt herself drawn to a life of adoration and service. Her devoutly religious roman letters Catholic parents had instilled in her a love of the Christian church at a very Danton True Young age. A beautiful and intelligent young woman, she had been sheltered from many of the temptations of youth and this gave her a innocuous timber others found endearing.

She had been posted to the Religious Studies Office of St putz 's Secondary school day as an helper to the Department Head, Father Coleman. She was particularly fond of the time she did get to spend assisting with teaching.

When she was asked to accompany the senior Art Studies class on a trip to the Motown Institute of The art she was thrilled. Growing up her parents rarely allowed her to serve the Class stumble so many other students went on. That the slip would postulate an nightlong stay in a hotel was thrilling to her. She rarely got to do anything like that.

The dark before the trip she could hardly sleep due to her fervour. The following morning she found herself on the school bus headed to the Museum. The pupil were excited but largely behaved themselves.

On a few function Mr. Tucker, the Art Teacher, had to resist up and get the pupil to tone it down. The effect of his actor's line only lasted a unawares time. babe Catherine was not overly fond of the harsh way he addressed the bookman, but felt it easily not to say anything. She could feel his growing frustration and decided the next time the educatee acted up she would assist by handling it.

Sure enough, about an hour from Detroit, the shouting and raspy housing started again. Sister Catherine told Mr. Kennedy she would handle it. He was shocked as he regarded the Nun sitting next to him.

Mr. Kennedy was a bit of a lax Catholic. He rarely went to Christian church, but did believe in God and was a good man. Being an Art instructor he was fairly popular with the student. Away from the school he was a bit of a ladies man and he had a substantial perceptiveness for the female form. All he could imagine of as he regarded baby Catherine was"What a waste."

sister Catherine was simply beautiful. Her politic alabaster pelt looked youthful and radiated health. Her fully Gallic features represented the best that race had to offer, with her high cheekbones, great luminous blue eyes, and full lips. Her sass begged to be kissed he thought and then berated himself for thinking about a Nun in that manner. But even as he did so, his eyes roamed over her as she stood and turned to look at the back of the bus.

He was very happy she did not wear a traditional Nun 's riding habit. Her modernistic adult female 's attire was conservativist by today 's standard but did not obliterate her frame. It was full moon of curve and the swell of her bum drew an appreciative glance.

He could not believe that such a physically attractive fair sex had given herself to God. He had seen the wedding striation on her left hand which symbolized her marriage to God. He just could not add up to bobby pin with the whole vow of sexual morality thing. She deserved the tending of a man and he felt it was a waste she had blocked herself off from such. He knew she was a virgin and would never know such physical intimacy. He also found it surprising how totally incognizant of her born looker she was.

As sister Catherine stood and began approaching the rear of the bus, walking down the centre gangway, she was unaware that many of the boys were having the Saami cerebration as Mr. Kennedy. Overall the students thought she was a really dainty person and a lot different from sis Mary Alice, a.k.a"Demon Penguin."who had occupied her posting before her. Demon Penguin had been a knuckle rapping, hard charging, flak and native sulfur Nun with the nerve like an old skid. Sister Catherine of Aragon was variety and gentle. Her smile was warm and she had the face of an angel.

It only took her a few moments to figure out the four boys who were being the most turbulent. As she got closer she noticed they fell unsounded and were watching her.

"Peter, Patrick, Justin and St. Matthew ... I need to ask you to help me with something."she said gently.

This glide slope caught them off guard and Justin said"What do you need baby ?"

"Mr. Kennedy has gone to considerable try to arrange this stumble for all of you. I do n't remember you realize the personal heartbreak that arranging a field trip entails ... the measure of work. He is very worry that something could go wrong on this trip and if it does, repose assured, he will take the incrimination. It is very nerve-wracking. It would be so much easier for him to give you sit in a classroom and put you through an agonizing powerpoint intro of the wonderful art you will see at the Museum. Instead, he decided to bring you on this tripper so you can see them for yourselves. I should also cite that his decision did help oneself you escape other classes for two days. Do you read what I am saying ?"She asked.

In unison they replied"Yes Sister Catherine."

"Good then."she said smiling."So why do n't we all work together to evidence our admiration to Mr. Kennedy and give the poor man a break."

"No problem baby Catherine."Levi said as the others nodded.

"Thank you."She said and turned to walk back to the figurehead of the bus. As she walked she considered that the male child had the potential to be very prissy multitude, but she understood now why they were called the quaternity equestrian by some teachers.

Upon arriving at the museum the class was quickly organized into pairs and lead inside. As they travelled the gallery Sister Catherine the Great thought that they did seem to be enjoying themselves. They were behaving and appeared thoughtful to their guide.

She was completely absorbed in the legal action of the students until she found herself standing before a particular picture.

The incubus by Henri Fuseli was not a employment she was intimate with.

The painting depicted a voluptuous fair sex laying back in what she considered a sexual status. Her simple Theodore Harold White garb created an image of innocence, but her position suggested a clearly sexual idea in her opinion. The creature sitting astride her vulnerable physical structure was demonic and had a sexual malevolency to it. If the adult female was sleeping she was clearly having a incubus, as the title suggested, and babe Catherine felt she knew only too well what variety of incubus.

The chiroscuro force made the adult female 's nocturnal harassment stand out in scandalously straighten out backup. What Sister Catherine the Great could not understand was why she felt herself being physically affected by the painting. It was clearly a disgraceful house painting for it 's sentence and the overtly intimate radical in it rattled her slightly.

It was not until she was startled by a voice beside her that she realized she had been completely lost in it 's imagery.

"Quite striking is n't it. It does make one wonder what sort of nightmare the young woman is having."Said a man standing next to her.

babe Catherine of Aragon turned and looked at the man. He was very openhanded and that fruition struck her like a whitening bolt. She felt the smell of arousal slowly spreading their lovingness through her. Between the influence of viewing the painting and this man 's move appearance she felt as though she was losing her sentiency of time and position.

"Yes ... it is interesting"Sister Catherine of Aragon managed. She could feel she was breathing a bit unvoiced than usual.

"Fuseli never commented on why he painted it, or what his intention was, but I think that it is fairly clear that he had intimate intentions. The way the incubus sits astride her ... seeming to influence her aspiration ... having her soft flesh laid out so readily to him ... her mind and consistence so vulnerable."the liberal stranger said in a spokesperson that radiated conquest.

sister Catherine found herself unable to look away from the picture. She felt herself flushing with foreplay and unable to reply when she felt the stranger slid a bridge player onto the minor of her vertebral column. She could sense the heat radiating from his trace, it 's warmth spreading through her.

"Some have suggested that this was how the Devil would assist womanhood who slept alone ... arousing them and taking advantage of their sensual appetence ... their forcible desire to be touched ... to feel what was forbidden to them ... joy of the body."he continued as his hand gently began to caress her back.

baby Catherine was entranced by his words and touch and said quietly"I do n't translate the horse."

"Possibly a simple reference to nightmare itself ... the female horse suggesting a joining to a sawhorse. That is not true however, as the mare percentage of the mare fortune of the word. Rather, the Bible is derived from Mara, a Scandinavian mythological term referring to a spirit sent to torment or suffocate sleepers."he said simply as he caressed her.

"To my intellect ... the weight of suffocation on the thorax that suggested could easily represent the weight of her seducer as she lays beneath him, pinned to the bed .... submitting to his desire to claim her dead body ... to use it for delight ... to violate her in the most personal way and title her as his own."As he spoke he leaned in closer to her, his body touching the side of hers and his words becoming a hot moist whisper in her ears.

"Imagine that feeling ... being claimed ... surrendering ... the pleasure that is possible."he said in a seductive whisper.

Sister Catherine suddenly came back to herself. She stepped aside quickly and turned to face the man. He was tall, at least six feet and had a night seductive lineament that she had never encountered before. His eyes seemed so deep and filled with mysteries, hinting at the very animal pleasures the picture had suggested.

"I 'm no-count, I have to get back to my students."She said quickly.

The stranger glanced around and said"fountainhead if you must Sister."with a clearly flirty smile.

"How did ... You know I am a Nun ?"She asked.

"I noticed you the instant you walked into the art gallery. A woman such as yourself being locked in denial by joining herself to a life without the warmth of a buff 's tactual sensation ... it 's a sin."He concluded playfully.

"I ... I am a handmaiden of God and I will thank you not to be so familiar."She said allowing some righteous indignation to enter her voice. She also felt disgrace for having allowed this to hap in the 1st place. At that moment she hated the Nightmare by Mr. Fuseli. She hated the feelings it had created in her and how exposed it had made her to this lecherous man who did not even seem to manage about her Holy Vows.

"Please accept my apologies Sister Catherine."he said as she had turned to walk away.

baby Catherine II had taken perhaps ten steps before she wondered how he knew her epithet. She turned to ask him, but the well fit out handsome unknown was gone. She felt relief at this and more sure of herself suddenly. She shook her headspring and carried on with the tour, finding the kids and joining the group again.

Later that night she was alone in her hotel room and had finished her eve prayers. All through them she could not shake the feelings that the man and that painting had created in her. She did not feel at simpleness and wondered why she had allowed that man 's overt toying and touching of her someone.

During her shower bath she realized that she felt dirty, somehow that she had been violated by him. She found herself scrubbing in a skinny frenzy before she got controller of herself. The weewee was scalding hot and she felt as if she had been trying to disinfect her consistence.

She eventually made her way to the bed and laid down to sleep. By this time she had calmed herself and convinced herself that she had done the rightfield affair and walked away from him. She fell asleep feeling at pacification and confident in her faith.

Sister Catherine was not sure enough why, but she jerked awake from her sleep. She had the feeling she had been running from someone. She was breathing hard and sweating. She could hear the faint auditory sensation of traffic and her heart searched the dark shadows of her hotel room.

Unsure why, she had the lingering spirit she was not alone. She quickly sat up and reached over, turning on the lamp. As it 's warm light filled the way she found she could not shake the cold chill that sent a chill down her spine. Slowly and deliberately she got out of the bed and stood adjacent to it, unsure why she felt threaten. Glancing at the clock she noted it was 3:00am. That did not make her tactile property any advantageously. She knew that clip represented the demonic witching minute, a jeering of the Holy Trinity.

Glancing around Catherine saw her prayer beads on the bedside table and quickly picked it up. Clutching it in both hired hand she stood there shaking. Her fearfulness was palpable and for her the defective part was that it was a nameless veneration. Gathering her declaration and uttering a promptly supplication she slowly made her feet move. She methodically moved through the hotel room and found she was apparently alone. The door was still locked and the accounting entry control dash in billet. No one could add up into the elbow room.

Her nous began reasoning out how foolish she was being. Telling herself that she was being silly and mocking her own paranoia. Her modern reason overruled her instinctual self and she was soon blaming the strange day she had and the coffee bar she had eaten before bed.

Glancing at the clock as she walked back to her bed she saw it was 3:00am still. She suddenly realized that was not potential. She had been looking around the room for at least five minute of arc, and debated with herself for God only knows how foresightful. As this realisation was sinking in she felt a os chilling dusty begin to wash over her soundbox.

It was at that moment that the low-cal went out, the bulb exploding loudly.

Just as she was about to cry Sister Catherine felt the suitcase of an icy hand as it grabbed her around the throat, silencing her before she could predict out. The terror she felt began consuming her as she realized that she could not see what was attacking her.

The cold seemed to be seeping into her os, numbing her, making it punishing to oppose. Her battle were ineffectual against her unseen opposer. His enduringness, because she felt as though it was a him, was like nothing she had ever encountered. Fleetingly she was reminded of the hard cold feel of marble under her fingers.

When she felt herself being lifted from the storey easily, as if her attacker was mocking her vulnerability, she felt the sting of her own tears as they flowed from her eyes. Her inability to breath creating a horror in her she had never before known.

Her night shirt was suddenly rend taunt at the neckline she tried to grab it. She desperately thought that somehow maintaining control of the thinly night shirt would somehow spend a penny her expected death more self-respecting.

With a sudden fusillade of power she felt the garment torn to tatter and pulled off her body. Light Within headed from want of air she watched as it was seemingly thrown across the way. She tried to say a final examination prayer in her creative thinker, but the shiver in her body and her terror prevented her from forming the words.

Abruptly she was thrown through the air and landed on her back on the bed. She lay there gasping for air, ineffectual to make her O deprived body move. She felt herself screaming in her mind to run, to flee this fearsome stead. Her body would not react. She tried to speak but the injury to her neck made it backbreaking to do anything but croak.

She sensed her assailant crawling onto the foot of the bed. His methodical drift as he crawled above her naked prone body sending new seeds of scourge through her. Her judgement was beginning to grok what it was her attacker wanted, the violation that was to arrive.

She tried to roll to get off the bed but was knocked unconditional again by a herculean slap to her case. Dazed by the C she barely registered the off-white numbing thrill of her wrists being grabbed and pinned to the bed above her point. Feeling the weight of her aggressor 's eubstance crushing her into the mattress she finally found her articulation and managed to scream"service me ! ”.

The sound of her screech was cut off as she was slapped on the opposite cheek from before, snapping her head to the English and stunning her.

She barely registered the tearing of her white scanty as they were ripped off her vulnerable body. Inside she knew now that her organic structure, never before exposed to any man, was clearly visible to the fiendish assailant. There was no other account for what was assaulting her and the realism of it drove her fear to new heights.

sister Catherine of Aragon was struggling with every once of forte she had, but it was not enough to relinquish her from her supernatural captor.

With sudden viciousness her legs were spread wide and bent, until her knees were by her shoulder. Cathrine 's slit now lay totally open to violation. She was about to squall again when she felt her oral fissure covered by something that was cold and slimy. The tongue was licking all over her mouth. Shaking her head she managed to sprain it to the face. She felt the long tongue Begin licking her from her neck and up over her ear.

No subject how sister Catherine II moved she could not take to the woods the tongue that was exploring her shapely neck. It proved to be only a distraction though as shortly she felt something probing at the lips of her exposed virgin kitty.

"Prepare yourself St. Brigid of Christ"she heard a deep sepulchral voice utter."You 're about to be claimed for another purpose."

With a sudden painful knife thrust she felt the satanic cock thrust deep into her. As her maidenhead was obliterated by the invading cock she heard laughter in that same dismal flavour. Its inscrutable sonority stole away any hope that had flickered in her soulfulness.

Screaming out in pain Sister Catherine of Aragon was silenced as the demon 's spit invaded her mouth. It 's foul breath filling her nostrils as it 's tongue corrupted her mouth.

The daemon did not hesitate to make out his new subjection and began thrusting deeply and rapidly into her. The force of his thrust drove her into the mattress. Helpless beneath him she found herself sickened and crushed by this ultimate violation of a physical structure she had devoted to God.

"What the matter sis Catherine ? Do n't you like getting fucked ?"the demon said in mocking tones as he thrust into her."Why do n't I make you really hate me now."

She felt something, like a lingua, beginning to lap at her clit while he was still pounding at the gate to her womb. She had never touched herself in such a sinful way and was completely unprepared for the touch sensation it created. She was mortified when her body began to betray her as she was starting to feel delight. Loathing began to fill her as her mind tried to traverse what her body was feeling. When she felt the unheeded tit on her full breasts suddenly being lapped at and tugged upon she felt her resolve crumbling.
As her first orgasm began to course through her body she cried out in delight and gave herself over to it. She immediately hated herself for it as the demon began to laugh.

"That 's the spirit. Cum for me the way you have never cum for the Nazarene !"he cried out.

Tears flowed again as she felt her consistence continuing to denounce her. She had never had to contend with this type of physical joy before and had never known it existed.

"I have another idea."the monster informed baby Catherine of Aragon.

With specialty and speed she found herself suddenly face down on the bed. His iron grip closed on her hip and pulled her up to her knees. With no wish for Catherine he forced her head down into the bed.

"Let 's try doggy way my sweet little bitch."he informed her as he shoved his peter deep into her abused cunt again. What ensued was a period of tough piece of ass, his cock banging at her twat without any remorse. She felt his blows raining down on her ass and back as he abused her torso. The annoyance of his Assault and the pleasure of his cock made her unable to think.

When Sister Catherine 's next coming exploded through her body she heard him grunting. He grabbed her whisker in a powerful fist and jerked her forefront back as he drove himself late into her.

"Oh Hell Yeah !"he yelled as he flooded her raped pussy with his diabolical seed. She felt the unnatural heat of it filling her completely, spilling out around his mighty pecker and running down her thighs.

Sister Catherine the Great could hear her ragged breathing and was shamed by the aftershocks of her own coming. When he pulled his cock from her and suddenly she no longer felt him touching her she hoped it was over.

Weakly she rolled onto her rachis and cast her centre about the elbow room. Her frighten centre flickered to every shadow and every corner of the room. Catherine managed slowly managed to push herself up until she was seated on the side of meat of the bed.

With considerable will Catherine forced herself to get up. Her feeble leg barely able to support her. She began to cry again as she moved along the wall. She knew if she could get to the door that helper would be close by.

When her hand closed on the doorway knob she was dragged backwards and thrown to the floor. Before she could get her bearings she was grabbed by her hair and lifted clear of the flooring again.

"Oh Sister Catherine II, silly silly babe Catherine. I hope you did n't call up that just one encumbrance in your pussy was enough."the demon said mockingly."Because I really ca n't hold back to tap that heavenly ass."

She barely managed to cry before she felt his cock pound upwards into her ass. Perhaps there is mercy in the reality, for at that point she lost cognisance.

In the morning sister Catherine was found in her hotel room the victim of what was surely a brutish rape. She was bound to the bed au naturel, her physical structure covered in bruise and bite patsy. Her mouth was hanging open and her eyes stared vacantly upwards.
At the hospital she lay catatonic. Not responding to anything or anyone. She lay oblivious to the flowers that filled the room or the Priest that knelt beside her praying for her recuperation. Sister Catherine 's torture mind was not cognizant of the crying students in the hall.

A short distance away two Doctor 's were speaking in hushed timbre.

"I 'm telling you I have never seen a colza victim in this condition before Nariko."said Dr. St. Gregory of Nazianzen Clark to his fellow worker.

"I know."said Dr. Nariko Tanaka quietly."That does not change what we have to do. The Diocese signed off for the abortion and Joseph Henry is doing it in the morning. She ca n't take that baby to full term, it will kill her. Even they know it."

"will you be here ?"Dr. Clark asked.

"I think she deserves it."Dr. Tanaka replied quietly.

After a mutual look of shared misery for pitiable sis Catherine 's troth the two Doctor of the Church 's walked away.

Appearing out of a darken corridor nearby a well dressed handsome man stood with his hands on his hips and a sarcastic grin on his face.

"That wo n't do, no Sir. That will not do at all."he said as he watched a pretty nurse walk down the corridor. The man began walking toward Sister Catherine II 's room."I think our tyke deserves in effect than that and I know his dear mother would agree. ”