Medieval Sex Stories – A Lesbians Spanking

She opened the heavy wooden door to her small bedroom in the convent. Removing her leather belt, she let her weighty woolen habit fall to the floor in a black heap leaving her smooth skin exposed. She pulled the severe veil off of her face and her curly black hair tumbled free over her shoulders, hanging down in front of her full breasts. Naked except for the cross hanging around her neck, she lowered herself onto the small bed in the corner and took a deep breath.

Her hands gripped her thighs and slid up over her belly. Her thin fingers traced over the smooth, soft skin of her stomach for a moment before her eyes fluttered shut and her hands slid up even further to clutch her round tits. Her head tilted back and her square teeth bit into her lower lip as her fingers pinched her nipples, tugging and pulling them. She bit back a moan, her back arching off the bed.

The cold metal of her silver cross dangled between her breasts.

Her hands squeezed her breasts one more time before sliding lower and lower, to the forbidden place between her legs. Her fingers traced slowly through the downy patch of dark hair to trace over her slit. One finger slid between her lips to trail slowly through the slick warmth. She moaned quietly, her head turning to the side and tangling in her tumble of curls. Her mouth opened and a low moan escaped as her fingers nudged against the sensitive pink bead between her lips.

Her legs fell further apart and she rubbed it again, more firmly this time. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes shot open. She longed to shove her own fingers deep within herself but knew what she was already doing was sinful enough. She had pledged to remain a virgin, whole and unsullied, for life. She would keep her promise.

But she couldn’t stop her fingers from rubbing furiously against her clit. It felt too good. She could feel a hot pressure building just above her stroking fingers. The heat spread throughout her body, burning and tingling through her limbs. She gasped a breath and her body convulsed, clenching and spasming as the pleasure ran through her. Her back arched almost violently and her bare toes curled…

Someone knocked on the door to her chamber loudly.

“Sister Amelia!”

Amelia nearly fell out of bed. She jumped on to shaky legs, throwing her habit haphazardly over her naked form and belting it quickly, not bothering to find her undergarments.

“Yes, Sister?” she answered, wincing at the raspy quality of her voice. She cleared her throat quietly and waited for the answer.

The nun on the other side of the door coughed and said quietly, “The Prioress has summoned you, sister. You are to go to her chambers immediately.” Amelia heard her shoes clicking softly on the stones of the hall as she walked away from the door.

Amelia sank back onto the side of the bed, going very pale. Had someone heard her? It wasn’t as though this was the first time. She had touched herself many times since joining the convent. She usually snuck her hands under the covers quietly and in the dead of night, but sometimes she just couldn’t wait. Self-abuse was strictly forbidden in the convent. It might be considered a violation of her vow of chastity. She could be severely punished for such a serious infringement.

She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat and stood, straightening her serious black robes over her curves and making sure that all of her hair was hidden by her veil. After that, she could delay no more. She opened the door and went slowly through the dark stone corridors of the monastery to the Prioress’ chambers.

Amelia hesitated outside the heavy door, her hand raised to knock. The Prioress couldn’t know, could she? She was in charge of punishing any nuns in the convent who broke their vows or acted wrongly in any way. But she was also the taskmistress, assigned to make sure that the Sisters were kept busy throughout their days. She might just have a new task for Amelia, she thought hopefully. Steeling herself, she raised her hand and knocked on the superior Sister’s door.

“Come in,” said the Prioress in a steely voice.

Amelia opened the door slowly and stepped into her chamber. The room was dimly lit and sparsely furnished. A desk stood to one side, with a few candles lit on it for light. A bed stood in the other corner, neatly made, a beautifully illuminated copy of the good book resting open on the covers. The Prioress stood, tall and forbidding in her black habit, in the center of the shadowy room, waiting. She gestured Amelia to her desk with a nod of her head, and sat behind it.

“Sit down, Sister,” she commanded, and Amelia sat obediently, her eyes lowered. “You must be wondering why I’ve called you here so late, Sister,” the Prioress went on seriously. “I have a special job for you, Sister Amelia.”

Amelia’s heart leapt hopefully. Perhaps she wasn’t going to be punished after all. The Prioress pulled a book from the corner of her desk and opened it, pushing it towards Amelia. She leaned forward to look at it in the flickering candlelight. It was a manuscript, beautifully copied but only partially illuminated. She could see where th