Sister Barbara

Posted by Ripper X on July 30, 2003 at 21:53:06:

Howdy Gentle Reader!

While mostly I have been focusing on authors that are no longer in the practice, I however can't seem to leave out one of my personal favorite Net Writers, BARBANNE!!!!

Through the years she has taken us along on thousands of adventures, and is one of the most versital writers out there, from Heroing action through the deepest jungles, to settings that exist in everybodies own back yard chances are, if it exists then Barb has already wrote about it, yet she's still going strong writing fresh, entertaining stories. God Bless her!

It was almost a cruel task for me to chose which story that I wanted to dust off and repost for all of you, after reading many of her old fiction I had a really hard time choosing just one, but alas I finally did it. I've chosen one of her more riskier pieces where she really lets out her dark side.


Sister Barbara

By Barbanne

The simple, short, sleeveless cotton shift that I am wearing gives little protection from the cold air in the stone floored basement of the convent building. The cold dankness seeps up from the floor flags and under the knee length hem of the garment, adding to the feeling of misery with which I view my predicament. My bare arms are firmly held by Sisters Agnatha and Beatrice, two very large, very strong ladies who, together with Mother, are devoted to ensuring that my punishment is something I won't easily forget. My bare feet are freezing where they are in contact with the floor and they hurt as I shuffle forward in their grasp when they lead me to the chain hung shackles in the walls and ceiling.

They clasp the leg rings around my ankles and the arm rings around my wrists. The length of the chain is such that my arms are stretched above my head and I am sort of hanging suspended, firmly held top and bottom, manacled by the iron bracelets. Mother comes forward and unties the shoulder tapes that hold my shift in place, so that it falls free, baring my back, down to my waist.

My sin was fornication, oh how I love fornication! I know it is wrong but my hungers are uncontrollable. The object of my desire was the apprentice gardener, a handsome and a very well developed lad. I know he is only eighteen, eight years my junior, but he is man enough for me. The poor boy never stood a chance once I had decided he was to be mine and we took no time at all behind the rose garden to get down to business. As I lay on my back, legs in the air, with the strapping lad burying his even more strapping cock deep inside my pussy, I saw Sister Dorothea, that bloodless, bespectacled little creep watching in surprise as Sister Barbara got well and truly screwed. I noticed that she copped a proper eyeful of the proceedings, never once taking her gaze from my very improper conduct until the lad had shot his load into me and spent himself upon my body. And she had her hand down the front of her knickers the whole while. Then off she went like a startled rabbit to report me to Mother and so here I am.

Sister Agnatha and Sister Beatrice are both over ninety kilograms and they each have a long whippy cane with which they take it in turns to lash my back. The first strokes are excruciatingly painful and I fear I screamed out in pain. After about a dozen strokes, delivered alternately by my tormentors, the pain has just become a wave of general agony throughout my body and I no longer cry out. Then when the cane strokes cut my flesh and my back began to bleed, Mother decided to strip my shift off and let them lash my buttocks as well. That's when she found I was wearing my tarty knickers and her fury became crazed. She urged the two nuns on to greater efforts and the beating became one succession of non stop blows, each more vicious than the last. Somewhere between the thirtieth and the fiftieth stroke, I passed out and blessed blackness overtook me as I slumped in my chains.

When Mother realized that Barbara was unconscious and probably had been for some time she reluctantly gave the order to stop. Sisters Agnatha and Beatrice freed the limp body of their colleague, Sister Barbara from her restraints and half carried, half dragged her semi nude body between them, bare feet scraping over the tiled floors of the hallways, to her cell where they laid her face down on her cot. Sister Celia was summoned to minister to her.

I was in pain even before I woke. Dull, throbbing all of my body hurt. I was not really aware of waking, just that I had come back to the land of the living and it hurt like hell. Then something wet and cold hit my raw back and I screamed out like an animal in pain at the agonizing, burning, stinging awfulness of it. I was whimpering and someone was crooning soft words of comfort. I swivelled my eyeballs, at least that didn't hurt, and saw the sweet face of Celia. She was wiping my back with some unction and after the first shock of pain it was soothing and pleasant. She looked at me with such love and tenderness and then she rose and went and threw the bolt to the door of my cell. I was drifting, still half out, and her movements came to me in a disjointed way. Then she was shucking off her robes and was on the cot with me and her tender little hands were all over me where a woman has her sweetest spots and I passed out once more.

I drifted back into consciousness. Somehow I had gotten onto my side. Celia's face was only centimeters from mine. As I tried to bring her into focus she moved forward and her mouth opened and covered mine. I could see the pinkness of it as it closed over my lips and could smell the sweetness of her breath. She kissed me deeply and I became aware of her soft rounded breasts rubbing against my own, her firm tummy was pressed against mine and as I surrendered to the bliss of her kiss I felt her small fingers between my legs, first stroking the soft sensitive skin on the inside of my thighs then moving up until they entered my slit and I felt her probing and caressing me inside. She found my clitoris and deftly bought me to climax. As I sank into the soft magic of her love making, I found myself sobbing on her soft shoulder, savoring the womanly smell of her skin. This time I drifted again into the black void, but it was a submission to the healing power of sleep.


I am well again.

Celia's care and love have saved me from myself. I can only get around with difficulty but I have been able to resume my chores within the convent. I am aware that when Mother sees the obvious pain with which I go about my work, she can barely hide the sneer of triumph. They think they have broken my will but it is not so.

I am in my little cell, lying on the hard cot, covered by the scratchy blankets with which we keep warm in this cold and loveless place. It is near midnight and the constant pain in my damaged back has brought me awake despite having retired some three hours earlier. I am sleepy and it takes me a few moments to realize that there is a red glow in my room which appears to be growing brighter and brighter. I close my eyes and shake my head to dispel this illusion, but when I open them again the redness has become blinding.

There is a figure in my room. She is beautiful. She towers over me, she must be nearly two meters tall. She has radiant fair hair, long and silky and glowing with vitality. Her skin glows also in the red light so that she appears to be molded from copper. But she is alive. She is covered by a diaphanous material, but her shoulders are bare. And what shoulders, broad and strong and beautifully formed. I can see the twin globes of her magnificent breasts and the lean sculpted torso, the blonde bush between her legs. Oh those legs, they go on forever and her feet. Feet of a saint. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and my tummy flutters and I go weak looking at her. I also find I am becoming powerfully aroused by this vision of perfection.

"Barbara" It is almost like the wind has spoken to me.


I don't know if I am dreaming or awake. I feel so strange. I am so aroused, so filled with eroticism. My body tingles.

I look down and see myself sprawled naked at her feet. My eyes are closed and my mouth sags open, my arms and legs are spread. I look limp and lifeless. I am dead. Dead at the feet of this all conquering woman. But I am alive. I have never been so alive. Every sense twangs like taught strings with excitement. I have never felt such sexual excitement. She stoops down and lifts up my unresponsive body. She holds me draped across her lap, like the Pieta.

I am back inside my body, but I am helpless to move so much as a muscle. I can look up into the face of this glorious woman who has so completely conquered me. Then I feel her inside me. It is like having sex with the most beautiful woman and man in the world simultaneously. My nipples ache and tingle. Every pore of my skin is charged with sexuality. My pussy is filled with thrusting, my lips are covered by sweet kissing I have not even imagined. I cum in the most fantastic orgasm imaginable. Every part of my body cums at the same second. I lie there like a dish rag. Weak. I have never known such weakness.


That voice, like a whisper in my head.

"Barbara, I am Belial. Be mine Barbara."

"Oh yes." I manage to gasp.

"Yes, yes, yes, I am yours now and for ever more."

So I give my soul to the Devil.


I started to enrol the sisters to my side. Not Celia. That girl had such goodness radiating from her that I decided she must be the last. No, I started with the others, those with weaknesses, pride, vanity, gluttony. I exploited them all. And I felt the presence of Belial. With her power I was invincible. Soon I had won all but Mother and her cronies and of course sweet, darling Celia. All of the sisters were my coven.

My witches.

If Rome only knew what had happened here.

The time had come to remove all opposition. I decided to start with Dorothea. That sniveling little creepo spent her nights locked in her cell reading romantic trash. Her weakness. I took two of my witch ladies and we knocked on her door. We heard her call out and when we told her it was us wanting to see her, we heard the scrabbling as she hastily hid her book. She opened the door and we came in. Before she realized she was in danger one of my girls pinned her arms and I slugged her so hard her glasses flew off and spittle bubbled from her mouth. It was lights out for Dorothea and my biggest girl tossed her unconscious form over her shoulder and carried her down to the basement where I had been beaten and humiliated. We trussed her to the same shackles and stripped her naked and then had fun with her, using every instrument these girls had accumulated to help them fill their long, lonely, loveless nights. Dorothea reached plateaus she hadn't suspected before she finally died screaming.

We buried her in the rose garden.

By the time Mother started asking questions about the non appearance of Dorothea, we had cleaned out her room, so that when it was inspected Mother came to the conclusion that the silly girl had packed up and fled from the convent life. She had never been popular with the other girls and her disappearance went largely unremarked.

A few days later I was assigned with about twenty others to work in the back fields, down by the stream. We grew our own produce and it was a regular chore with which we were all familiar. It was a warm sunny day and we toiled for a time under the watchful eyes of Sisters Agnetha and Beatrice. I was forking over the vegetable patch when I saw my opportunity arise and I plunged my pitchfork into Sister Beatrice's back as she walked past me. She shrieked and sprayed blood all over me as she went down twitching and writhing. So firmly was my pitchfork embedded in her back that the handle was torn from my grasp by the weight of Beatrice's body. This wasn't supposed to happen as I was now left defenseless with my weapon buried in the back of my first victim. I looked up and sure enough, there was Sister Agnatha bearing down on me shouting "murderess" at the top of her lungs, arms outstretched and a truly awesome sight.

I decided attack was the best form of defense and when she was almost upon me I dived low and wrapped my arms around her meaty left leg. Clutching onto it like a drowning man, I heaved upwards with all of the strength I could muster. I think I caught her off guard and she hopped on her one free foot before we both crashed to the ground entangled together. I immediately sprang upward onto her chest raking at her face and eyes with my claw like nails. I managed to inflict several scratches and pull severely on her hair before she grasped my wrists and started to force me backward. It took no genius on my part to realize I was outweighed and out powered by about two to one, so I jumped upward and brought both knees down together into Agnatha's considerable tum. This forced the breath from her body and she let go of my wrists. I grabbed her large breasts as near where the nipples were as I could judge and squeezed and twisted unmercifully. She shrieked out in true agony and then caught my left wrist in her vice like grip. Fearing I was going to be back in an unwinnable fair contest, I balled my right fist and slammed it into Agnatha's face just as hard as I could. My hand and arm hurt with a shooting pain I could barely believe and I felt I must have broken something for sure, but my blow had had the desired effect. Agnatha was blowing and gasping and her eyes were crossed, and she had lost interest in me for a second or two. I jumped up and free and watched as she rose on all fours, still gasping and puffing. I pulled the belt from my tunic and jumped on her back, wrapping the belt around her neck in a double turn and then threw all of my weight into tugging back on it. I landed on my back and thrust my feet up one on each side of Agnatha's broad shoulders. I pushed with my feet as hard as I could while pulling back on my belt with all of the weight I could bring to bear. My tunic fell down to my waist exposing a mile of bare legs, thighs, knickers and buttocks in a most un-nun like display. I didn't care as I put all of my energy into strangling Agnatha. Her hands were alternately clawing at her throat and pawing the air, her tongue was snaking in and out of her mouth, her eyes were rolling wildly in their sockets. I wouldn't let up. I was like a banshee, strangling my tormentor, without pity, relentless. Agnatha's breathing was now ragged and gasping and her face was mottling, purplish in color. Her lips were quite blue and her tongue hung permanently from her mouth like a long pink banner. With a great shuddering spasm, she breathed her last and collapsed back onto me inert and dead.

I struggled to extricate myself from beneath Agnatha's bulk. I was sore and would have bruises tomorrow. I got up gingerly and then realized that Beatrice was whimpering where she had fallen, not yet dead. I went over to her. I must have looked like a mad woman, clothes disarrayed, hair everywhere as usual, eyes gleaming with the blood lust. I pulled the fork from her back and she groaned loudly. I drove it into her again and again with all of the force I could muster. Each plunging stroke sprayed more blood over me. Finally she was dead.

My acolytes came forward. Now I was truly the devil-woman and they were mine to command. We stripped Agnatha and Beatrice and splayed their naked corpses on their backs, head, two hands and two feet outstretched to point to the five corners of the pentacle. I traced the Mistress's marks in their own blood on their naked flesh. I stripped as did my fellow Sisters. We danced around the spread-eagled corpses of the two dead Sisters. I was covered in sweat and soon the other girls were too. Soon we fell in a writhing pile of female flesh as we sought to pleasure each other with our hands and mouths. I loved the smell of all those sweaty girls, it helped me come to orgasm with one and then another.

Finally we dressed and buried Agnatha and Beatrice and wended our way back. Not much gardening, but a useful day's work.

Of course when we returned Mother started right in asking questions as to where the two sisters were. I told her sweetly that they had stayed behind to fertilize the patch, which of course they had. But she was agitated about their absence so I could see we had to act then and there. I turned to my girls and a half dozen of them set to and grabbed Mother and we hustled her down to the basement. She was confused and frightened and amazed that suddenly her dutiful flock had rebelled and she protested all the way. "But Barbara," She kept saying. She couldn't grasp that her time was over.

When we reached the basement, the girls stripped her and manacled her where I had been manacled only she wasn't facing the wall to be beaten on the back, she was facing us so she could see her torment as it happened. She was twenty or so years older than me and she was still a good-looking woman. Her figure had thickened but it still held its womanly shape. Her waist was slim, her hips flared to a broad ass and she had large well-formed breasts. Her face was handsome rather than pretty, but she would have warranted glances if she were away from the convent. She kept crying out to me, "Barbara, Barbara, what are you thinking of Barbara." She threatened me with the wrath of the church, the wrath of almighty God, the wrath of the sisterhood. She cajoled me, flattering me, telling me I would go far if I allowed myself to be guided by her and her ilk. I listened stone faced and did not reply.

I stripped myself naked as did my followers and I approached the manacled woman I had for so long had to obey. I took her face in my hands and kissed her on the mouth, the way I would have kissed a lover. My tongue penetrated her and I licked and sucked at her, all the time rubbing my body against hers in the most lewd and wanton ways I could imagine. I felt a stirring of response despite her obvious revulsion and I rubbed my mons against hers so that our pubic hair ground one against the other. I stepped back and she spat full in my face. But I could see the lust only just hidden behind her eyes and I knew she wanted me, but not how I wanted her. Her I wanted only for Belial. I took a razor, I think it was Mother's own and I carved my Mistress's pentagrams in Mother's living flesh. She screamed and screamed, but I was possessed and closed my ears to her cries. I dug deep and blood flowed. I was covered in a sheen of sweat and she was bathed in it. I scooped up her dripping blood and covered myself in it, rubbing it across my breasts and face. She was hanging in the restraints, swooning from the pain, but I cut her again, making the marks of Belial on her breasts and thighs and in her pudenda. I knelt at her feet and offered up the incantations. I was mad at that moment, my eyes glowed and my hair took on a life of it's own.

The red glow permeated the room and grew in strength. I looked up and she was there. Oh how I loved her. I went to her and she spoke to me. That voice like the wind in the air, soft, sibilant, so sexual.

"Sever your ties forever Barbara."

"Sever her throat as you sever your ties."

I took the blade and looking in the pain filled eyes of Mother I jabbed it into her neck and drew it across her pale throat, severing flesh and arteries and life from her body. Blood gushed all over my naked body and she slumped lifeless in her chains. The sisters cried out in ecstasy and fell to fornicating with each other. I went back to HER! I fell down before her and I was consumed with sexual ecstasy, as though I were being used by man and woman at one time. At some stage then I fainted and remember no more of that night.

Father Carl looked at Monsignor.

The convent to which he was being directed had certainly some explaining to do or so it seemed from the briefing he had received. First there had been reports from the Mother Superior of a disappearance although that had not seemed to be of great concern as it was felt the girl involved may have just run away. Now, it seemed, the Mother herself had not reported in for several days and the nuns there were very vague as to what was going on. A Sister Barbara seemed to be in charge and she, although very, very sweet and a most charming young woman, according to Monsignor, was rather reticent when pressed for a full explanation.

So Father Carl was to go there and report back on what he found. The convent was in one of the poorer parts of the city and had been established years ago. The building was old and rather forbidding when viewed from the street. This thought crossed Carl's mind as he walked up to the solid wooden door set in a plain brick wall. He rang the bell and heard it tolling deep inside.

I was going about convent business when the girl came and told me a Father Carl was in the waiting parlor. We tried to maintain an air of normalcy in our day to day goings on, reverting to our evil only at nights. I hurried through to the front to welcome this unwanted guest. He was probably the parish spy and I would have to be careful. Nothing prepared me for the shock I got when I walked in and Father Carl stood and turned to me. Here was a beautiful man, tall, well built although a little heavy and handsome beyond belief. He had the fine chiseled face of a Michelangelo sculpture. I wanted him and made up my mind then and there that I would have him. For my mistress and for me. Mostly for me!

I was sweetness itself as I greeted him and took his hand.

I ushered him though to my study, well it had been Mothers but she had no need of it where she was. I had tea brought and asked how I could help. He told me what I already knew and of course I showed puzzlement and genuine concern where appropriate. I told him he must stay and we would get to the bottom of the problem. Mother had just disappeared overnight, taking Sisters' Agnatha and Beatrice with her, we had all assumed it was on church business, but if not well we would help him all he needed. He said he would accept the offer of accommodation for at least one night, he had brought a bag ready for a stay away from his own home, I showed him to one of our guest rooms and helped him settle. We spent the day reviewing what we knew and I showed him around the convent. I did not take him to the basement or explain why I was in Mother's study. I don't know if he noticed it as unusual.

That evening he joined us for supper and we talked lightly of many things. I noticed some of my little darlings eyeing Carl and determined that they should soon know who was going to have him. After supper, quite early, he said he would retire. When he had gone, I told the sisters what they must do and set in train tonight's plans. I then prepared the long steel weapon, actually it was a mortician's aspirator, and very carefully coated the tip with poison before placing it where it would be ready for use in the basement. Carl suspected too much already and could not be allowed to leave alive.

I let Carl have time to get settled in his room before making a move.

Carl sat in his room thinking over the day. Sister Barbara was certainly charming although the fact that her hair was free and she didn't wear a wimple seemed strange. There were other strange things but he would have to think on them to know what he made of it. Sister Barbara was nice. A knock at the door and she called softly "Father Carl, may I see you."

I stood outside the door wondering if I should knock again. Everything was set and I hoped he had not retired too soon. He opened the door in his shirt sleeves. His thick black hair was ruffled and his broad shoulders strained his shirt. He was lovely. I asked could I come in as I had things I wanted to discuss. He stood aside while I entered. I asked him to leave the door unlocked. When I was inside, I told Carl how frightened I was at the fact that Mother's disappearance might be other than normal. I got close to him and leant against him, pressing my body to his. I could feel his reticence but I pushed myself to him and felt him soften. I stepped back and let my robe fall open so that he would see I was naked underneath. I heard the intake of his breath and knew that he was weakening.

"Carl, Carl, help me, I can't handle this alone." I came toward him and he stood petrified. I had him in my arms and pressed my breasts against his chest. I kissed him and started to rub myself against him. I felt his response against my tummy and knew I had him. "Sister, Sister." He protested, but it changed to "Barbara, Barbara" as I pushed him down on the bed. I unbuttoned his shirt and the band of his trousers. He cried out "No, No." But it was muffled by my mouth on his as I pushed down on him, forcing him under me. I looked in his eyes and knew he had lost and we coupled on his narrow cot. At first he was slow to move but I did it for him and suddenly his erection, buried in my sheath started to pump up and down and Carl quickly lost the battle of restraint and exploded inside me.

So good.

It really was better with a man, and what a man.

After, I said to him, "Carl, I must show you something."

We dressed and I led him to the basement.

Sister Celia sat in her room. Something strange was happening and she didn't know what. Where was mother and Agnatha and Beatrice? Had Dorothea really run off? Why had Barbara gone to Father's room and where was everyone. She decided to investigate.

I opened the basement door and allowed Carl to precede me into the room.

As instructed, my girls were concealed by the door as it opened. As Carl stepped into the room, they fell upon him and took him by the arms and legs. Carl was a strong man, but by the time he realized what was happening to him, he was securely held by at least ten girls and despite his best effort, was unable to tear free. I walked in front of him and began to remove my habit. I stripped it off little by little, like some nightclub performer until I stood nude in front of him. My acolytes came and two of them started to coat my body in oil. Slowly, sensuously they rubbed the oily fluid over me and brought my skin to a sheen of polished sensuality. At the same time the girls who held Carl removed his clothing and similarly coated his muscular body. Their busy little hands rubbed all over him with fine oil until he stood there like some burnished Adonis. I became a little irritated when they seemed to spend an inordinate time oiling his ass and his cock and his magnificent pectorals, but finally we stood facing each other like two ancient statues come to life. I could clearly see that he approved of me and that his inhibitions had vanished along with his vows of celibacy. I came forward and he took me in his arms and we kissed, just a kiss, but it lasted forever and I felt him rising against my oily tummy. We were both sweating quite a lot now and the smell of his body made me almost faint with desire. The room filled with red light and she was there, standing looking into Carl's eyes. He couldn't take them from her and I saw all last vestiges of his will dissolve. He lifted me in his arms and his sweaty, slippery cock entered my equally slippery pussy and he started to drive it like a piston into me, spearing me again and again. The other girls were all now as naked as we and oiled and gleaming they set upon each other in a mad frenzy of sex!

Celia could find no one. Where were they?

She heard noises in the basement and went down there.

I am in the Nirvana of sexual delight as Carl's magnificent maleness punches into me, my body tingles with a joy and sensuality that can never be bettered.

Celia opened the door and took in the scene at a glance. Sex. Nudity. Lascivious lewdity. The Sisters transformed and that woman and Barbara in the arms of the priest and he like a satyr.

Such EVIL!

And it all seemed centered on Barbara.

She screamed "Barbara."

She clutched out, found a steel spike and rushed at the source of evil.

"God, forgive me." She shrieked as she drove the sharp skewer into Barbara's back with all of the force she could muster. She felt it pass right through Barbara's body and penetrate the flesh of Carl. Barbara stiffened, her back arched, her head fell back, mouth agape, blue eyes wide open and staring into eternity, instantly dead. Carl felt the point of the spear enter his chest and then the suffusion of poison into his system. He didn't have to be told that he had received a mortal blow. He looked down at Barbara, hanging limp in his arms, hair streaming down, still impaled on his cock and knew that he loved her even more in death. He continued to pound his cock into her, now dead pussy. The poison worked its way swiftly through his body stiffening all of his muscles and making his erection even harder. He fell to his knees and exploded his load into dead Barbara, then fell with her to the floor where they lay locked together, her impaled on his fatal erection. He raised his eyes and died.

Celia dropped the spear and fled.

Belial cried out in agony and frustration. She raised her arms and shards of light jetted forth into the entwined sisters, stopping hearts and seizing brains. One by one their oily, sweaty bodies fell on top of each other until there was a pile of naked female flesh stacked dead in a heap.

The red light faded and she slowly vanished into thin air.

Celia felt the floor tremble as she tore open the door and ran into the street, She kept running until she heard a terrible crashing and turned to see the convent collapse in on itself like a house of cards, leaving only a pile of rubble and drifting dust.