The cloistered sisters of the Upper Weston on Mersey Abbey were reputed to be seriously dedicated to their vows of silence and humility, but had been a little less circumspect with regard to the demanding vow of chastity. That was the vow that impacted the younger nuns with far more frustration than any of the other affirmations of devotion to the service of God.

When Angela Landsborough took the partially binding vow after her first year in the convent, she didn’t expect she would be overwhelmed with a sense of attachment to any other creature on God’s green earth before it came time to take her “final” vow for a lifetime of abstinence and denial of physical pleasure of the common flesh. Her imagination could not possibly devise any situation of terminal temptation that would prompt her to open her private passageways to the sordid needs of the opposite gender.

That was especially true inside the confines of the Abbey with the establishment of rules of conduct that precluded any male other than the most elderly of priests to enter for the saying of Holy Mass for the dedicated female devotees. True, there were a limited number of mid-teenaged altar boys on the premises, from time to time, but they were so smitten with awe and respect that any thought of inappropriate actions never crossed their minds.

The previous violations of the vow of chastity were prominently displayed in written recordings on the main hallway and were required reading for the young sisters as they walked to and fro to recite their prayers of contrition for any sin of thought that might cross their mind in a moment of weakness.

Young mistress Angela had decided to assume the name of Sister Mildred because her Aunt Mildred was exceedingly generous to her family in both funds and provisions, after the announcement of Angela’s commitment to her new calling.

Now that the first year was completed, Sister Mildred was assigned a cell of her own so that her prayers and her use of flagellation tools on her sinful flesh did not distract another sister-in-training. She preferred to bare the skin of her attractive heart-shaped rump and use either her favorite riding crop, passed down by her mother, or the imitation “Cat of Nine Tails” that never failed to bring little whimpers of self-pity to her sinful lips after only a few repetitions of heavy blows on her teenaged skin.

The infamous Cat with the metal tipped ends never failed to bring a rosy hue to her posterior with a speed that took the breath away from her sweating breasts swinging juicily in the light of the single candle reflected in the full-length mirror. The sight of her own boobs in naked motion accelerated her rush to a joyful orgasm that rippled her naked flesh with tremors of repressed excitement.  

She had modified a set of her mother’s finest clothespins to pinch her nipples with just the right amount of pressure to bring her to her knees in proper humbleness in the sight of God. When she did the top half and the bottom half together, her body shook with a fever of contrition and sincere desire to be a better person, no matter how much it tested her limits of endurance.

Her private confessor, the shy and withdrawn Father Reilly, found her insistence on self- punishment a bit “over the top” in secular terms, but he allowed her to show him her bruises and marks of penitence even when they were in an embarrassingly private spot usually not displayed for male observation. Her flushed face and rapid breathing concerned him at such times, but he put it down to mortification at her sinful deeds.

His flesh was just as weak as some of the younger nuns and his need for release sometimes led him to administer penance in a novel way, if the sinner was pretty enough and willing enough to accept his training methods of dispelling the harboring of lustful thinking. Taking one of the female sinners over his knee was a perk of great magnitude and he seldom showed mercy, when the sin was major enough to require stern discipline.

He had never chastised Sister Mildred in such a manner because he was a bit cautious about her reaction to his methods. He had to be content with the display of her flanks and breasts flogged with self-imposed skillful strokes by the young woman determined to chase the devil from her every pore.

This was the season for some major holidays for both the church and for the general populace.

 The celebrations went far beyond the simple need to honor mother church and often required displays of pre-religious time pagan ceremonies that were centered on fertility in coupling or the success of starvation ending annual crops. It was close to All Hallows Eve now and Sister Mildred felt a change in the air without even pausing to stare out her tiny cell window at the dark forest beyond the protective moat filled with stagnant water from the rainy season.

She stripped down with infinite slowness in a trance of expectant fulfillment. She had the huge mirror in which to see her gleaming flanks waiting forlornly for the strokes from her measured blows. In the darkness of the darker-than-usual corner, a pair of ogling eyes drank in sensuous arousal of her frenzied and depraved march to the happy ending of her releasing tingle.

The shapeless bulk stirred as she pushed her hindquarters up into the cold night air and let the chill of the coming winter cool her feverish cheeks. They were splotched with redness and even fleck or two of blood where her arm swung a bit too ardently in search of her required penitence.

Sister Mildred peered into the darkness thinking she heard a low growling moan of frustration. All she could see was a void of blackness like the bottomless hole of a well gone dry. She buried her head in her pillow and moved slightly on the hard mattress of straw and muslin used by several other novitiates before her.

It was perhaps a bit fortunate that she was somewhat dehydrated because her piss-pot was almost full and the Mother Superior didn’t want any of the nuns in training to be walking the hallways at night. This was for fear they might be easy prey for some disrespectful staff member or guard with an itch for female companionship. It had happened before and was a black stain on the Order giving them an unwanted reputation for nocturnal dalliance.

The contrite and obedient nun was not one of those loose-minded females and she thought of herself as a true believer in the value of the vow of chastity. In fact, Sister Mildred was not much taken with the concept of allowing a male person to “take” her dignity and honor just to satisfy some senseless need for a silly tingle between their legs.

Unbeknownst to Sister Mildred, the shapeless form hidden in the shadows was a long-time resident of the Abbey.

His ghostly figure had haunted the stone corridors for centuries and he considered his home merely on lease to the current residents. He was one of those knights that could truly be called “A Black Knight” because he found nothing too extreme in the service of the rightful king or in the name of Mother Church that ruled beyond this mortal world right into the recesses of eternity itself.

His passage to his promised nook in heaven was temporally “on hold” due to a misunderstanding over some horrific melee that resulted in several innocent parties being sent to paradise before their time. The Black Knight remembered being in that chaotic mess but held steadfast to the firm belief that he was not at fault. The gatekeepers to heaven were evenly split on his truthfulness and he was dispatched to haunt the halls of the castle until an extensive investigation determined the scope of his responsibility.

At first, he made almost daily inquiries about the progress of the other-worldly investigation, but as time passed, he grew accustomed to his fate and simply watched the foolish actions of the female mortals around him with utter contempt and an urge to shout out, “I told you so!”

This young nun shaking with emotion and half-naked in the narrow bed filled him with a sense of pity mixed with his dreadful lust for female flesh. That weak link of his character was one that had ever been with him despite his constant vows to change his ways.

The Black Knight knew it was wrong to drool over the tempting morsel’s still reddened hindquarters, but his long, hard man-stick tended to out-vote his conscience at such times and he drew close planning only to observe the female at close range and not to interfere with her life-force. Just as in most well-laid plans of man, his intentions were shoved onto a back burner and he slowly ran his nebulous fingers near her tempting curves with an eager greed to touch actual human flesh.

He had done this before with other sleeping females and found they believed his favor stealing to be their over-active imagination and soon forgotten in the light of day. On rare occasions, when the young girl was particularly fetching, he had actually mentally coupled with them in a spiritual sense watching them writhe under his weightless body as he touched places in their internal core that had never been touched before.      

This female was an exception right from the start.

The touch of his still earthbound life cells seemed to be of physical consequence to Sister Mildred and she pleaded, “Please, sir, have respect for my vow of chastity. I want it badly, but I must be obedient to the rule of the church in such matters.”

If a ghost could be said to be amused and to actually smile, The Black Knight did exactly that as he pushed his explorations of the confused nun’s private parts past the point of no return for both of them.

The spiritual merging was not truly physical in human terms, but more an expression of thought rather than deed.

Sister Mildred kept her eyes shut tightly and buried her face in her embroidered pillow given to her by her former mentor, Sister Veronica, a dedicated nun with a soft spot for young novices of a shy and naïve nature.

She sensed the hardness suddenly pressing between her cheeks and thought for an instant that the unknown intruder was about to take her anally like some confused teenage altar-boy undergoing a forbidden initiation in a private nocturnal setting. It was something that she found personally distasteful, but she was willing to take it in the spirit of true contrition relegating it to the discomfort of her pre-ordained need for penance.

The strange shaft slid down lower and entered her feminine folds from the rear in that position that was so familiar in barns and stables all over the realm. She raised her haunches slightly to grant the unknown intruder more leverage inside her womanly confines and tried her best not to whimper like a silly schoolgirl. Now she was “hooked” firmly and had to endure the hard pounding she was convinced would follow as the night follows day.

It was a hard ride for the dismayed newly recruited nun and she was thankful when the spray of liquid drained into her void, like beer being drawn from a barrel brewed for a very long time. It was at this point she could delay no longer and she looked over her shoulder to see who it was in possession of her most secret treasures.

She was convinced it could not be a flesh and blood fellow human with needs of the flesh.

The form of the ghostly Black Knight struck fear into her heart because she feared he might be an instrument of Lucifer come to torment her into rebellion against her beloved Lord and God.

Then, she knew for a certainty he was no evil thing, because he wiped away her tears and kissed her on her face with his semi-solid shape that was unable to stabilize for more than a fleeting moment in time. She looked down and saw his huge member and noticed it was more solid than any other part of his body. It seemed to Sister Mildred that it was because of his interaction with her human form just recently and that her juices still coated his surfaces with her happy ending.

She started to pray in earnest thinking that her prayers would drive the creature away from her. It just so happened that exactly the opposite took place and the thing began to solidify as she prayed and she could make out features such as strong, healthy teeth and a nicely trimmed mustache that would certainly tickle her with enthusiasm when placed between her legs.

He kissed her again and floated right through the heavy wooden door as if it was open and he had no concern about any boundaries to his passage.

Sister Mildred fell back on the mattress in total exhaustion falling into a sweet dream that had her being rescued by a knight of the Lancelot variety with long golden tresses and delicate fingers skilled in making females squeal with joyful sounds of pleasure.

She was certain this Halloween would be very special in more ways than one.

Her only hope was that her apparition of inspired copulation would return each and every Halloween night to fill her with proper contrition for her weakness of the flesh.