The Postulant’s Tale: Chapter Six – The Decision
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The following morning, Abigail returned after Prime. Peter was already awake and greeted her with what seemed to be genuine pleasure. She carefully removed the cloths from his hands and was pleased to see that already the flesh seemed to be less raw. Even to her inexperienced eyes, it was apparent that the burns had penetrated less deeply than had at first appeared.“Mother Clare says that your hands need to remain unbound for an hour or two each day, to help them heal,” she explained. She laid a fresh cloth across the bed and instructed Peter to lay his hands on the clean material. As she finished, Peter spoke. He was blushing and seemed to have difficulty stammering out the words.“I’m sorry, Sister Abigail. But there is one problem. I need to piss. Could you get the pot for me?” Abigail casino siteleri smiled. “There is no need to blush,” she reassured him. “Nuns have to piss too, like other men and women.”She reached under the bed, and found the clay bowl for him to piss in. She put it on the bed and rolled him carefully onto his side before pulling up his shift for him. She could not help casting a quick glance at the large mass of his genitals, the meaty prick surrounded by a thick mass of dark hair. Before he could say anything, she quickly turned her back and stood in the doorway to allow him to perform. She could hear him shuffling awkwardly into position, followed by the flow of his piss into the bowl. It seemed to go on forever, and she smiled, guessing that he had been forced güvenilir casino to hold in his water for a considerable period of time.As she took away the bowl, she tried to avoid looking at his prick, but again could not help herself. From her conversations with the other postulants, many of whom seemed worryingly knowledgeable on the subject, Abigail had learnt that pricks were used for very much more than just pissing. Indeed, Dorcas quite openly talked of what she would like to do with the prick of any man, young or old, who came within the walls of the convent.Peter gave her a shy smile as she came back. His shift was still up around his waist, and his prick was lying across his thigh. It seemed bigger than previously. She reached out to pull his shift canlı casino down, and her hand just brushed against the plump flesh. She blushed, and fussed over his bedclothes to distract herself.“Now you must lie still,” she said with a frown. “I will be back later to wrap your hands again before bed.”~~~~~~That evening, after Vespers, Abigail returned to the infirmary. Peter seemed pleased to see her, and a day in the air appeared to have helped to dry out the worst of the suppurations on his hands. Once more she washed them, soothed them with liniment, and bound them up carefully.“Do you need the pot again?” she smiled.Peter blushed very red and shook his head.“Not this time; one of the other Sisters helped me earlier,” he stammered. “But, oh Sister Abigail, maybe you can help with something else.”“Of course, if I can.”“It’s my prick, it’s uncomfortable, and maybe you can help.”It was Abigail’s turn to blush.“I’m not sure,” she mumbled. “Maybe Mother Clare…”“Oh no, please, Sister Abigail, she couldn’t do anything. Only you. Please, just look.”
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