Sylvie Colombe was not sure how much more she could take. The man who was lying on top of her leisurely fucking her arsehole had already come three times and she knew it would be another fifteen minutes before he spurted his seed into her bowels again. She clenched her fists in the material of the pillow positioned under her belly and moaned with discomfort, a moan which the man mistook for pleasure and she felt his cock swell with renewed vigour in her overstuffed rectum. What made it worse for Sylvie was that the man frenziedly buggering her was her priest whom she loved and respected, Father Etienne.

The 15 year-old girl's ordeal had begun six months previously, soon after the death of her mother who had been ill for a long time. Every day, as soon as she got home from school, Sylvie would take a cup of herbal tea up to her Mama's room and then would sit reading aloud interesting stories from the newspaper. One such time, Sylvie's mother suddenly said, "After I've gone, you mustn't worry if Papa brings a strange woman home one evening."

"But why would he do that?" Sylvie had asked, genuinely confused.

"Remember what I once told you, my sweetheart. All men have needs. Your Papa is not an old man, he still feels sexual desire. And I have not been able to relieve his desire for so long. It must be very difficult for him."

"I suppose so," Sylvie had said, hoping that it would be a long time before her father felt the need to do anything like that. But, to her great surprise, it was quite soon after her mother slipped peacefully into everlasting sleep that her father decided to ease his sexual frustration, and it was not in the way Sylvie expected at all.

It had been early one Sunday morning. The sound of her Papa opening his bedroom door shortly after dawn had woken Sylvie. She turned over in bed and listened as he made his way downstairs and into the kitchen to fill the kettle and make his morning tea before Agnes the housekeeper was up and about. When Sylvie heard him close the door of his study she dozed off once more, waking suddenly to find her father kneeling by her bed, wearing only his nightshirt. His eyes were red from crying and Sylvie felt a great sense of compassion for her Papa in his loss.

"My darling," he whispered. "I miss your mother so much. Would it be possible for me to climb into bed with you for a few moments? It seems so long since I cuddled you and I would dearly like to feel your arms around me."

"Of course, Papa," Sylvie said, throwing back the covers, forgetting until too late that her nightgown had ridden up and the puff of silky blonde hair covering her mount was clearly visible. And she failed to realize that his asking her to cuddle him instead of the other way round laid her young body entirely open to him and trapped one of her arms behind his head.

Her father settled himself against his daughter's neck, his body resting gently against hers, his warm hand resting lightly on her stomach.

"You smell lovely, little one," her father said. "Just like your mother." And he kissed her softly, just under her ear.

Sylvie hugged him closer and said, "Do you miss Maman terribly, Papa?"

"Yes, my darling, I do," he said, moving his hand up to cup Sylvie's cheek so that he could look into her eyes. "But I have you," he said softly and, to Sylvie's surprise, kissed her lightly on the lips.

Sylvie suddenly realized that she could feel her father's penis against her hip and that it was very big and hard.

He brought his face above hers and looked into her eyes. "I do have you, my little princess, don't I?" There was a great depth of longing in his voice and Sylvie blushed at the intensity of his gaze.

"Of course you do, Papa," Sylvie said, wanting to reassure him.

"Oh, thank you, darling. Thank you," her father said. And he climbed on top of her and pulled the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, capturing the pink nipple of first one breast and then the other in his mouth as he pushed his groin between her thighs and forced them open.

"No, Papa, please! Don't!" Sylvie screamed, struggling against the force of her father's lust as she felt the engorged head of his cock push between the slippery lips of her vagina and then tear through her hymen to fill her cunt with its hot hard length.

"Oh my darling…ohhh…ohhhhh…OHHHH!" her father groaned with pleasure and almost immediately Sylvie felt a great gush of his sperm pour from his penis, flooding her belly.

Within moments of his climax, Sylvie's father lifted himself from her body and murmured, "Thank you, darling, that was wonderful." Then he left the room, leaving Sylvie sprawled half-naked across her bed, her nipples wet with his saliva, sticky wetness oozing from the opening of her ravished cunt. She understood then that her father's tears were not for her departed mother; they were tears of remorse for what he was about to do to her.

Sylvie's father made no further sexual advances that day, nor for the rest of the week until the following Sunday when she again woke to find him at her bedside looking down at her. This time he had shed all pretence and was standing quite naked, his engorged cock jutting from his groin, a tiny pearl of white fluid glistening at the tip.

Sylvie feared that her Papa intended to ravish her again. It had taken several days for the soreness of her cunt to ease and she dreaded having to endure the same discomfort again. But her father had other intentions.

Stepping closer to her, his cock quivering with lust, he said, "Sylvie, my darling, please don't be afraid. I would not dream of taking advantage of you. Say that you forgive me."

"Of course, Pap -" Sylvie reluctantly started to say, but her words were cut off and she could manage no more than a 'glub' sound as her Papa suddenly placed his hands on her head and thrust his rampant penis into her open mouth, filling it to capacity.

For several long minutes her father fucked her face with his stiff pole, forcing her to swallow the salty semen that flowed from the tip. Sylvie did the best she could not to gag whenever her father pushed too hard, but she knew that her movements were awkward from the way he kept moving her head with his hands, encouraging her to take the throbbing glans into her throat. Sylvie realized quickly that if she could do this he would climax sooner and her ordeal would end.

But she was wrong. Her father suddenly stopped what he was doing and pushed her back on to the bed, climbed next to her and swung his legs over her head so that his groin was level with her face, his saliva-wet cock inches from her mouth. Sylvie knew she had no choice: she opened her lips and her father sank his cock back into her mouth with a deep sigh of pleasure.

Sucking hard on her father's penis with as much skill as she could manage, Sylvie was quite unprepared for what he suddenly did next. He pushed her legs apart with his hands, lowered his face, and thrust his tongue as far as he could get it into the wet hole of her cunt. Despite herself, Sylvie moaned with surprise and pleasure at how exquisite it felt to have her father's slippery tongue lapping and licking her genitals and she did the best she could to take even more of his pumping cock, slippery with saliva and pre-orgasm juices, into her throat.

The smell of sex filled Sylvie's nostrils, the squelching sound of her father's tongue probing deep within her cunt filled her ears, creamy liquid from her father's penis filled her mouth. She knew that it was wrong for her to be enjoying what he was doing to her, but she couldn't help herself and she was overwhelmed when waves of pleasure began to radiate from her sex in the first orgasm she had ever experienced. She could feel hot juices flooding her cunt and was amazed when she heard her father greedily swallowing the sweet honey of her arousal.

Still sucking and licking the shaft of her father's cock with her lips and tongue, Sylvie could feel the sex in her mouth beginning to swell, his hips thrusting up and down with increasing speed. She had no idea what was about to happen and was taken completely by surprise when a wave of thick white sperm suddenly filled her mouth. As the first wave came to an end, her father drew in his breath with a sobbing gasp, pushed his hips forward and once more released a flow of hot creamy come. The spurting spunk and plunging prick made Sylvie choke and she was forced to swallow the liquid which was filling her mouth to capacity, feeling it slide down her throat and into her belly. She could not believe how much of it there was, but she knew from the moans and sighs she could hear coming from her father's chest that she was giving him great pleasure by suckling on his cock as he emptied his balls.

When at last her Papa's orgasm subsided, he gently withdrew his softening sex from Sylvie's mouth and lay back onto the bed next to her. "Thank you, my beautiful darling," he murmured and Sylvie could not help thinking that, this time, she had been a willing participant in his further ravishment of her for his sexual pleasure.

The following Sunday was a repeat of the first two, with Sylvie being woken by her father in a state of intense arousal who then proceeded to use her mouth or cunt in whatever way took his fancy. Sylvie would perhaps have enjoyed these sessions more except for a curious ability of her Papa's to spend repeatedly, and not to quit her bedroom until he had fucked her, or emptied himself into her mouth, anything up to five or six times in the course of an hour or more.

It was near the end of once such energetic bout, when her father had ordered her to kneel on all fours and Sylvie felt her cunt quite awash with sperm and her throat coated with the sticky, salty substance, that her Papa gave a great heave of his prick into her slippery sex, cried out with the intensity of his pleasure and leaned forward onto her back, his hips jerking and quivering as he discharged the contents of his balls into her womb once more. Sylvie closed her eyes with the ecstasy of her own pleasure, and did not notice immediately that her father had stopped moving and was lying heavily across her lower body.

"Papa," Sylvie said plaintively. "Please dear Papa, it is very uncomfortable holding your weight and mine up." She knew how much her father loved to leave his cock steeping in his own semen and was reluctant to complain, but he was becoming unbearably heavy.

Slowly and carefully, Sylvie squirmed from under her Papa, his prick sliding from the overflowing tunnel of her cunt with a delicious slurping sound, and found that his eyes were shut and that his face was ashen.

"Papa?" Sylvie cried, trying her best not to scream with fear. She bent her head to his chest and listened and then she did scream for there was no heartbeat. Her darling Papa had fucked himself to death.

Hurriedly pulling on a robe, Sylvie shouted for Agnes to fetch the doctor and the priest. But even at her age she knew that her father had gone to join her mother in everlasting sleep and there was little the doctor could do.

In her grief Sylvie did not think to open the window or tidy the bed and she blushed bright red when the two men arrived and saw them wrinkle up their noses, smelling the unmistakable scent of sexual pleasure. The doctor certified her father as having died of heart failure while Father Etienne, his face full of concern for Sylvie's plight in having lost both her parents, administered the Last Rites.

"My dear Sylvie, what will you do now?" Father Etienne asked as he stood in the hallway before departing.

"I do not know, Father," Sylvie said. "I have an uncle who lives in Lyons who perhaps would care for me but I have no money to pay for the journey." Her eyes filled with tears as she realized for the first time how very alone she was in the world.

"My child, do not distress yourself," said Father Etienne, taking her chin in his hand and lifting her face up. "I will ask Maitre Solange the notary to sell your father's property and make available the funds which he receives to pay for your journey to Lyons and give you a very substantial sum to enable your dear Uncle to look after you. In the meantime you must stay with me at my house. The presence of my housekeeper Therese will ensure that no idle gossip results from this act of kindness."

"Oh thank you, Father Etienne," said Sylvie, throwing her arms round the priest and hugging him, burying her head in his chest as she did so and quite forgetting that she was naked beneath the robe. "You are so kind," she said and felt comforted when the handsome priest slid his hands around her waist and warmly returned the hug.

Sylvie was a little distressed when she moved to the house of Father Etienne and found that Therese made no secret of the fact that she did not approve of the Father's act of kindness. Fortunately, every Thursday Therese was given a half-day off and Sylvie, who had been taught to cook by her mother, took over the duty of ensuring that a meal would be on the table waiting when Father Etienne returned from celebrating evening mass.

Although she was still young, Father Etienne would allow Sylvie a glass of wine mixed with water to thank her for the effort she took on his behalf and would sit and tell her about the mysteries of the Church throughout the meal. Then, after dinner, Father Etienne would hear Sylvie's confession before retiring to his bedroom. Sylvie was concerned that her immortal soul was in danger after having committed the terrible sin of making love with her Papa and she told Father Etienne every detail of what had been done to her in order that he might be better able to decide her penance. She was often concerned that what she told Father Etienne distressed him because, soon after retiring to his bedroom, she would hear him cry, "Ah-ahhh-ahhhhhh!" out loud and she knew he must be feeling pain on her behalf.

One such Thursday evening, after Father Etienne had heard her confession and, contrary to his custom, had instructed Sylvie to go to bed while he remained for a while reading in front of the fire, she was in the act of undressing and had just pulled her chemise over her head. Hardly had the smooth, curvy globes of her bottom been revealed as the beautiful girl bent at the waist to reach for her nightdress when Sylvie found herself grabbed from behind, her naked body clasped tight, a hand over her mouth.

Sylvie's first instinct was to scream, but she could not because of the hand across her lips. Her next was to faint, and this she probably would have done but for the fact that, as the intruder, as naked as she was, held her close, something hard, long and warm pressed inwards between her buttocks and lay throbbing in their furrow and up her back. It was a man's erect penis and Sylvie looked in her dressing mirror and recognized over her shoulder the handsome face of Father Etienne, his eyes closed with the pleasure he was feeling at holding her naked body against his.

Both scared and shocked, Sylvie could not stop herself falling back against the Father. Concerned that she was fainting, he at once removed his hand from her mouth and supported her in his arms. As he did so Sylvie could feel the great pole of Father Etienne's cock press even further into the divide of her bottom while he ran his hands over the mounds of her breasts, stroking the pale pink nipples with his fingers and burying his face in the cascade of her scented hair at the base of her smooth white neck. The next moment his mouth was trapping hers in a long and sensual kiss.

"Please Father," Sylvie cried when he broke the kiss, "I am only fifteen! You told me that the sins I committed with my Papa may one day be forgiven. Do not force me to do more shameful things."

Father Etienne smiled at her, the same loving smile he had when he said he would take care of her. "Sylvie, the things you did were indeed shameful but you were taken advantage of by your wicked father. If we pray together to achieve your forgiveness then it cannot be considered sinful."

Before Sylvie could reply Father Etienne kissed her once again and let his hands roam over naked body. She felt him settle his hand over the downy bulge of her mons where his finger separated the moist lips of her pussy, entered the warm slit and touched her sensitive clitoris. Sylvie closed her eyes as the priest alternately rubbed and then gently stroked the sensitive little organ her father had so often kissed and sucked.

Quite overwhelmed by the passion the priest was stirring in the depths of her cunt, Sylvie did not resist as the priest made her kneel across her bed, her upper body flat against the bedcovers, her hands covering her face, the cleft of her pretty little bottom high in the air. Sylvie wanted so much to show how sorry she was for enjoying the terrible things her father had made her do and she prayed softly as she waited for the priest to join her.

Perhaps it was the beauty of the prayer that made her forget for a moment where she was and not hear the slurping sound that came from behind her, but she cried out with surprise when she suddenly felt Father Etienne pass his hands round her hips, press his naked body against hers and once more lay the huge length of his cock between her buttocks.

"There is a new experience I must now instruct you in, my daughter," Father Etienne whispered in her ear. "You will find it more productive of pain than pleasure at first, but the ways of repentance are difficult, and only to be learnt and enjoyed by degrees."

"Of course, Father," Sylvie managed to say; distracted by the way the lustful priest was rubbing the head of his member up and down the silky-smooth cleft of her bottom. "I will do whatever is necessary - ahh - ohhh!" Sylvie could not help but cry out. Father Etienne had pressed the bulging head of his mighty cock in the slit of her dripping pussy and thrust the full length up into her body. She was impaled on his prick as he began to fuck her with long, deep strokes, lifting her up bodily every time he drove his hips forward.

So forcefully was Father Etienne fucking her that Sylvie felt each moment would be her last because the sheer size of the cock the priest was thrusting into her body was so much greater than that of her dear Papa. She instinctively knew that only the fact that she was so young and the walls of her slit were so wet and elastic enabled her to manage such a monster. All thoughts of prayer were driven from her mind: all she could hear was the sound of the priest behind her as he grunted with the strength of his thrusts and moaned out his pleasure, all she could feel was the pressure inside her cunt as the slick walls clasped tight the huge prick sliding back and forth. Deeply concerned that she was being made to sin once again, Sylvie closed her eyes and gripped the covers in her little fists as she waited for the ordeal to end.

But it was far from over. Indeed, the exquisite fucking she was receiving was merely the prelude. Suddenly the priest removed his prick from the depths of her sex with a wet slurp and, lifting himself so that his body was above and behind hers, Sylvie felt him press the tip of his stiff member against the small orifice between her beautiful buttocks. Pushing forward his well-lubricated weapon by degrees, he slowly penetrated her anal sphincter.

"Oh, my -!" cried Sylvie. "Please Father, you are in the wrong place - it hurts. Oh, have mercy! Spare me!"

This last cry was caused by a final and vigorous thrust on the part of the priest, which sent his massive member up to the hairs that covered the lower portion of his belly so that he was in Sylvie's bottom to the balls.

Passing his strong arm around her hips, Father Etienne pressed close to Sylvie's back; his strong hips rubbed against her buttocks, and he kept his stiff member thrust into her rectum as far as it would go. Sylvie could feel pulsations of pleasure throughout the swollen length, and she bit her lips as she awaited the movements which she well knew he was about to make in order to complete his enjoyment.

Delighted by the tightness of this new and delicious sheath, the priest laboured at Sylvie's round buttocks until, with a final lunge, he filled her bowels with great gouts of hot, thick liquid. The sensation was so wonderful that Sylvie also climaxed, despite her feeling that what the priest had done to her had very little to do with forgiveness and prayer.

Lying beneath the lustful priest and expecting that he would withdraw to allow her to expel the huge quantity of creamy semen he had deposited in her arsehole, Sylvie was surprised and shocked when Father Etienne started to ride her even more strongly than before, his prick now sliding back and forth through the mass of creamy liquid pumped out by his balls. Sylvie moaned, whimpered and sobbed but it was of no use: Father Etienne was determined to run a second course of sodomy and even lifted her effortlessly onto the bed, lay full length on top of her and hooked his legs under hers so that, as he opened his legs wide, so Sylvie was forced to do the same, the motion pressing her lovely little rump even harder against the lance of his cock buried deeply within her overstuffed back passage.

Eventually the lustful priest spurted his semen once more into Sylvie's flooded bowels and then rolled off her, dragging his cock from the confines of her anus as he did so.

"My child," he panted, "that was delightful, truly wonderful. I own there is nothing whatever like the clasp of a young girl's bumhole round a man's cock to give him the most sublime pleasure. I shall wish to do it again next Thursday and every Thursday after. That way will lead to the eventual salvation of your immortal soul and your forgiveness."

"Thank you, Father," was all Sylvie could say.

"Now come, my child. As a final gesture of humility, I should like you to take my prick in your mouth and suck until you have drained the last of my manly essence."

The young girl did as she was told.

The months passed and Sylvie found herself unable to escape the embraces of the lustful priest. Every Thursday he would spend several hours taking his pleasure of the three holes in her body, spending first in her mouth to rid himself of the pressure of the spunk that had built up in his balls during the week, then deeply fucking her deliciously clasping cunt, finally taking what seemed like an eternity buggering her beautifully tight and fragrant arsehole. However much Sylvie asked if she had done penance enough, and inquired whether Maitre Solange had completed the sale of her parent's house and effects, Father Etienne would explain patiently that business matters take a long time to complete and then instruct her to hold open the cheeks of her bottom as wide as possible so that the lubricating oil could reach every last crevice of her puckered hole before it was stretched wide by his massive prick.

Finally, the day after the Thursday that opened this reminiscence, when Sylvie found herself having to endure the terrible ordeal of the priest being so aroused that he was set for a fourth climax deep within her bowels, Sylvie was told by Therese that the Bishop, Superior Jean-Yves d'Assisi, would be visiting on Saturday and that she should take her second bath of the week in order to be presentable as the Father's charge. Sylvie knew then that this was her chance. She would make the Bishop aware that she was due the proceeds of the sale, that she longed to travel to Lyons to be with her Uncle, and that she had been fucked and buggered repeatedly by the lustful priest while supposedly in his care.

The Bishop arrived in his motorcar on the Saturday afternoon. Sylvie was duly introduced and curtsied politely and correctly. The Bishop put out his hand to receive her and she kissed his ring as Father Etienne had told her to. Bishop Jean-Yves put out his hand and raised her to her feet. "Charming," he murmured, "quite charming."

Sylvie excused herself immediately after dinner and made her way to her room. She undressed quickly and put on her nightdress, combing out her long, sleek blonde hair. Before long the clattering from the kitchen died down and Sylvie knew Therese had gone to bed. Only the sound of the Bishop and Father Etienne laughing from behind the closed door of the Father's study could still be heard in the house.

Sylvie lay on her bed determined to listen for the sound of the Bishop climbing the stairs to the room where he was to sleep. Trying too hard to stay awake, she dozed so that her candle had almost worn down when she heard the stairs creak and the sound of Father Etienne's voice saying, "Good night, your Grace," and the Bishop's answering, "Good night, Etienne."

Sylvie waited for a further five minutes and then crept across the landing, taking care to avoid those floorboards which she knew creaked. She knocked very softly on the Bishop's door. There was a footfall and the door was opened. The Bishop was wearing a red silk gown tied around his waist and Sylvie blushed when she noticed the exposed hairs of his chest at the neck of the gown.

"My child!" said the Bishop in surprise.

"Please your Grace," said Sylvie rushing into the room and hurriedly closing the door behind her. "I must speak with you!"

"Come and sit by me," the Bishop said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Sylvie sat next to him and was so overcome that she might soon be free of her ordeal that she burst into tears and sobbed against his chest as he put an arm round her shoulder and held her close.

"My child - whatever is the matter?"

Sylvie explained about the death of her father, the inheritance she had been denied, and blushed as she recounted the dreadful manner in which she had been used repeatedly by Father Etienne.

"My dear Sylvie, this is scandalous!" the Bishop said, his face clouded with anger. "It is monstrous that you should have been subjected to so terrible an ordeal!"

"Oh thank you, your Grace. I did so hope you would understand and free me of this place that I might travel to Lyons to be with my Uncle and his family."

"Of course you must, my child," said the Bishop, holding her face in his hand and smiling at her. Sylvie felt the warmth of his smile and felt safe for the first time in many months. "But you do know that what you are suggesting is a terrible crime committed by Father Etienne against the chastity of his calling and the sanctity of the Church, don't you?"

Sylvie was not at all sure that she understood but she knew that the Bishop would explain.

"There has to be proof, dear Sylvie. Proof that that will dispel any doubt concerning the accusations you have made towards Father Etienne. Do you have proof, my child?"

"I don't know, your Grace," said Sylvie. "There is only the little opening to my bottom," and she blushed even more fiercely than before. "Only yesterday Father Etienne fucked me there four times and it may still be stretched wide. I could -"

"My dear child. I know how distressing it must be for you. But I must have the proof to accuse this terrible man," the Bishop said in a quiet voice. "You must show me, however much it upsets you. Please, climb on the bed and lift your nightdress over your head so that I might see where you have been so dreadfully used."

Sylvie did as she was told. She climbed onto all fours on the Bishop's bed, reached back and lifted her nightdress. She knew that her pretty little naked bottom was displayed to the gaze of the Bishop and felt him gently part the cheeks with his hands the better to inspect the pink puckered opening of her anus. Sylvie felt sure the Bishop would see immediately the evidence that the poor little hole had been repeatedly fucked.

A gasp of surprise escaped her lips as she suddenly felt hot breath on the fragrant skin and then the sensation of something warm and wet being pressed past the muscle. "Oh your Grace!" Sylvie cried as she realized he had entered her bumhole with his tongue. She tried to rise but could not: the Bishop was holding her down by pressing his hands on her back. However much she wanted to, Sylvie could do nothing to escape the questing tongue as it was thrust repeatedly into her rectum.

"Was I not right, your Grace?" came another voice from behind Sylvie that she recognized immediately as Father Etienne's. "Does her delicious arsehole not taste and smell even sweeter and more enticing than that of the prettiest choirboy?"

"Oh Etienne, you spoke the truth a thousand times over," said the Bishop, pausing for only a moment before burying his face once more between the cheeks of Sylvie's bottom.

"Will you attack her in the buttocks while I work my prick in her slippery cunt, your Grace? She is so petite we might lift her between us, you with your weapon in her bowels, mine in her belly. What delicious sensations that would give us!"

And Sylvie, knowing that there was no way the Bishop would refuse such an enticing offer and that her hope of escaping was lost forever, took off her nightdress with a soft sigh and resigned herself to her fate.

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Sylvie Colombe was not sure how much more she could take. The man who was lying on top of her leisurely fucking her arsehole had already come three times and she knew it would be another fifteen minutes before he spurted his seed into her bowels again. She clenched her fists in the material of the pillow positioned under her belly and moaned with discomfort, a moan which the man mistook for pleasure and she felt his cock swell with renewed vigour in her overstuffed rectum. What made it worse for Sylvie was that the man frenziedly buggering her was her priest whom she loved and respected, Father Etienne.

The 15 year-old girl's ordeal had begun six months previously, soon after the death of her mother who had been ill for a long time. Every day, as soon as she got home from school, Sylvie would take a cup of herbal tea up to her Mama's room and then would sit reading aloud interesting stories from the newspaper. One such time, Sylvie's mother suddenly said, "After I've gone, you mustn't worry if Papa brings a strange woman home one evening."

"But why would he do that?" Sylvie had asked, genuinely confused.

"Remember what I once told you, my sweetheart. All men have needs. Your Papa is not an old man, he still feels sexual desire. And I have not been able to relieve his desire for so long. It must be very difficult for him."

"I suppose so," Sylvie had said, hoping that it would be a long time before her father felt the need to do anything like that. But, to her great surprise, it was quite soon after her mother slipped peacefully into everlasting sleep that her father decided to ease his sexual frustration, and it was not in the way Sylvie expected at all.

It had been early one Sunday morning. The sound of her Papa opening his bedroom door shortly after dawn had woken Sylvie. She turned over in bed and listened as he made his way downstairs and into the kitchen to fill the kettle and make his morning tea before Agnes the housekeeper was up and about. When Sylvie heard him close the door of his study she dozed off once more, waking suddenly to find her father kneeling by her bed, wearing only his nightshirt. His eyes were red from crying and Sylvie felt a great sense of compassion for her Papa in his loss.

"My darling," he whispered. "I miss your mother so much. Would it be possible for me to climb into bed with you for a few moments? It seems so long since I cuddled you and I would dearly like to feel your arms around me."

"Of course, Papa," Sylvie said, throwing back the covers, forgetting until too late that her nightgown had ridden up and the puff of silky blonde hair covering her mount was clearly visible. And she failed to realize that his asking her to cuddle him instead of the other way round laid her young body entirely open to him and trapped one of her arms behind his head.

Her father settled himself against his daughter's neck, his body resting gently against hers, his warm hand resting lightly on her stomach.

"You smell lovely, little one," her father said. "Just like your mother." And he kissed her softly, just under her ear.

Sylvie hugged him closer and said, "Do you miss Maman terribly, Papa?"

"Yes, my darling, I do," he said, moving his hand up to cup Sylvie's cheek so that he could look into her eyes. "But I have you," he said softly and, to Sylvie's surprise, kissed her lightly on the lips.

Sylvie suddenly realized that she could feel her father's penis against her hip and that it was very big and hard.

He brought his face above hers and looked into her eyes. "I do have you, my little princess, don't I?" There was a great depth of longing in his voice and Sylvie blushed at the intensity of his gaze.

"Of course you do, Papa," Sylvie said, wanting to reassure him.

"Oh, thank you, darling. Thank you," her father said. And he climbed on top of her and pulled the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, capturing the pink nipple of first one breast and then the other in his mouth as he pushed his groin between her thighs and forced them open.

"No, Papa, please! Don't!" Sylvie screamed, struggling against the force of her father's lust as she felt the engorged head of his cock push between the slippery lips of her vagina and then tear through her hymen to fill her cunt with its hot hard length.

"Oh my darling…ohhh…ohhhhh…OHHHH!" her father groaned with pleasure and almost immediately Sylvie felt a great gush of his sperm pour from his penis, flooding her belly.

Within moments of his climax, Sylvie's father lifted himself from her body and murmured, "Thank you, darling, that was wonderful." Then he left the room, leaving Sylvie sprawled half-naked across her bed, her nipples wet with his saliva, sticky wetness oozing from the opening of her ravished cunt. She understood then that her father's tears were not for her departed mother; they were tears of remorse for what he was about to do to her.

Sylvie's father made no further sexual advances that day, nor for the rest of the week until the following Sunday when she again woke to find him at her bedside looking down at her. This time he had shed all pretence and was standing quite naked, his engorged cock jutting from his groin, a tiny pearl of white fluid glistening at the tip.

Sylvie feared that her Papa intended to ravish her again. It had taken several days for the soreness of her cunt to ease and she dreaded having to endure the same discomfort again. But her father had other intentions.

Stepping closer to her, his cock quivering with lust, he said, "Sylvie, my darling, please don't be afraid. I would not dream of taking advantage of you. Say that you forgive me."

"Of course, Pap -" Sylvie reluctantly started to say, but her words were cut off and she could manage no more than a 'glub' sound as her Papa suddenly placed his hands on her head and thrust his rampant penis into her open mouth, filling it to capacity.

For several long minutes her father fucked her face with his stiff pole, forcing her to swallow the salty semen that flowed from the tip. Sylvie did the best she could not to gag whenever her father pushed too hard, but she knew that her movements were awkward from the way he kept moving her head with his hands, encouraging her to take the throbbing glans into her throat. Sylvie realized quickly that if she could do this he would climax sooner and her ordeal would end.

But she was wrong. Her father suddenly stopped what he was doing and pushed her back on to the bed, climbed next to her and swung his legs over her head so that his groin was level with her face, his saliva-wet cock inches from her mouth. Sylvie knew she had no choice: she opened her lips and her father sank his cock back into her mouth with a deep sigh of pleasure.

Sucking hard on her father's penis with as much skill as she could manage, Sylvie was quite unprepared for what he suddenly did next. He pushed her legs apart with his hands, lowered his face, and thrust his tongue as far as he could get it into the wet hole of her cunt. Despite herself, Sylvie moaned with surprise and pleasure at how exquisite it felt to have her father's slippery tongue lapping and licking her genitals and she did the best she could to take even more of his pumping cock, slippery with saliva and pre-orgasm juices, into her throat.

The smell of sex filled Sylvie's nostrils, the squelching sound of her father's tongue probing deep within her cunt filled her ears, creamy liquid from her father's penis filled her mouth. She knew that it was wrong for her to be enjoying what he was doing to her, but she couldn't help herself and she was overwhelmed when waves of pleasure began to radiate from her sex in the first orgasm she had ever experienced. She could feel hot juices flooding her cunt and was amazed when she heard her father greedily swallowing the sweet honey of her arousal.

Still sucking and licking the shaft of her father's cock with her lips and tongue, Sylvie could feel the sex in her mouth beginning to swell, his hips thrusting up and down with increasing speed. She had no idea what was about to happen and was taken completely by surprise when a wave of thick white sperm suddenly filled her mouth. As the first wave came to an end, her father drew in his breath with a sobbing gasp, pushed his hips forward and once more released a flow of hot creamy come. The spurting spunk and plunging prick made Sylvie choke and she was forced to swallow the liquid which was filling her mouth to capacity, feeling it slide down her throat and into her belly. She could not believe how much of it there was, but she knew from the moans and sighs she could hear coming from her father's chest that she was giving him great pleasure by suckling on his cock as he emptied his balls.

When at last her Papa's orgasm subsided, he gently withdrew his softening sex from Sylvie's mouth and lay back onto the bed next to her. "Thank you, my beautiful darling," he murmured and Sylvie could not help thinking that, this time, she had been a willing participant in his further ravishment of her for his sexual pleasure.

The following Sunday was a repeat of the first two, with Sylvie being woken by her father in a state of intense arousal who then proceeded to use her mouth or cunt in whatever way took his fancy. Sylvie would perhaps have enjoyed these sessions more except for a curious ability of her Papa's to spend repeatedly, and not to quit her bedroom until he had fucked her, or emptied himself into her mouth, anything up to five or six times in the course of an hour or more.

It was near the end of once such energetic bout, when her father had ordered her to kneel on all fours and Sylvie felt her cunt quite awash with sperm and her throat coated with the sticky, salty substance, that her Papa gave a great heave of his prick into her slippery sex, cried out with the intensity of his pleasure and leaned forward onto her back, his hips jerking and quivering as he discharged the contents of his balls into her womb once more. Sylvie closed her eyes with the ecstasy of her own pleasure, and did not notice immediately that her father had stopped moving and was lying heavily across her lower body.

"Papa," Sylvie said plaintively. "Please dear Papa, it is very uncomfortable holding your weight and mine up." She knew how much her father loved to leave his cock steeping in his own semen and was reluctant to complain, but he was becoming unbearably heavy.

Slowly and carefully, Sylvie squirmed from under her Papa, his prick sliding from the overflowing tunnel of her cunt with a delicious slurping sound, and found that his eyes were shut and that his face was ashen.

"Papa?" Sylvie cried, trying her best not to scream with fear. She bent her head to his chest and listened and then she did scream for there was no heartbeat. Her darling Papa had fucked himself to death.

Hurriedly pulling on a robe, Sylvie shouted for Agnes to fetch the doctor and the priest. But even at her age she knew that her father had gone to join her mother in everlasting sleep and there was little the doctor could do.

In her grief Sylvie did not think to open the window or tidy the bed and she blushed bright red when the two men arrived and saw them wrinkle up their noses, smelling the unmistakable scent of sexual pleasure. The doctor certified her father as having died of heart failure while Father Etienne, his face full of concern for Sylvie's plight in having lost both her parents, administered the Last Rites.

"My dear Sylvie, what will you do now?" Father Etienne asked as he stood in the hallway before departing.

"I do not know, Father," Sylvie said. "I have an uncle who lives in Lyons who perhaps would care for me but I have no money to pay for the journey." Her eyes filled with tears as she realized for the first time how very alone she was in the world.

"My child, do not distress yourself," said Father Etienne, taking her chin in his hand and lifting her face up. "I will ask Maitre Solange the notary to sell your father's property and make available the funds which he receives to pay for your journey to Lyons and give you a very substantial sum to enable your dear Uncle to look after you. In the meantime you must stay with me at my house. The presence of my housekeeper Therese will ensure that no idle gossip results from this act of kindness."

"Oh thank you, Father Etienne," said Sylvie, throwing her arms round the priest and hugging him, burying her head in his chest as she did so and quite forgetting that she was naked beneath the robe. "You are so kind," she said and felt comforted when the handsome priest slid his hands around her waist and warmly returned the hug.

Sylvie was a little distressed when she moved to the house of Father Etienne and found that Therese made no secret of the fact that she did not approve of the Father's act of kindness. Fortunately, every Thursday Therese was given a half-day off and Sylvie, who had been taught to cook by her mother, took over the duty of ensuring that a meal would be on the table waiting when Father Etienne returned from celebrating evening mass.

Although she was still young, Father Etienne would allow Sylvie a glass of wine mixed with water to thank her for the effort she took on his behalf and would sit and tell her about the mysteries of the Church throughout the meal. Then, after dinner, Father Etienne would hear Sylvie's confession before retiring to his bedroom. Sylvie was concerned that her immortal soul was in danger after having committed the terrible sin of making love with her Papa and she told Father Etienne every detail of what had been done to her in order that he might be better able to decide her penance. She was often concerned that what she told Father Etienne distressed him because, soon after retiring to his bedroom, she would hear him cry, "Ah-ahhh-ahhhhhh!" out loud and she knew he must be feeling pain on her behalf.

One such Thursday evening, after Father Etienne had heard her confession and, contrary to his custom, had instructed Sylvie to go to bed while he remained for a while reading in front of the fire, she was in the act of undressing and had just pulled her chemise over her head. Hardly had the smooth, curvy globes of her bottom been revealed as the beautiful girl bent at the waist to reach for her nightdress when Sylvie found herself grabbed from behind, her naked body clasped tight, a hand over her mouth.

Sylvie's first instinct was to scream, but she could not because of the hand across her lips. Her next was to faint, and this she probably would have done but for the fact that, as the intruder, as naked as she was, held her close, something hard, long and warm pressed inwards between her buttocks and lay throbbing in their furrow and up her back. It was a man's erect penis and Sylvie looked in her dressing mirror and recognized over her shoulder the handsome face of Father Etienne, his eyes closed with the pleasure he was feeling at holding her naked body against his.

Both scared and shocked, Sylvie could not stop herself falling back against the Father. Concerned that she was fainting, he at once removed his hand from her mouth and supported her in his arms. As he did so Sylvie could feel the great pole of Father Etienne's cock press even further into the divide of her bottom while he ran his hands over the mounds of her breasts, stroking the pale pink nipples with his fingers and burying his face in the cascade of her scented hair at the base of her smooth white neck. The next moment his mouth was trapping hers in a long and sensual kiss.

"Please Father," Sylvie cried when he broke the kiss, "I am only fifteen! You told me that the sins I committed with my Papa may one day be forgiven. Do not force me to do more shameful things."

Father Etienne smiled at her, the same loving smile he had when he said he would take care of her. "Sylvie, the things you did were indeed shameful but you were taken advantage of by your wicked father. If we pray together to achieve your forgiveness then it cannot be considered sinful."

Before Sylvie could reply Father Etienne kissed her once again and let his hands roam over naked body. She felt him settle his hand over the downy bulge of her mons where his finger separated the moist lips of her pussy, entered the warm slit and touched her sensitive clitoris. Sylvie closed her eyes as the priest alternately rubbed and then gently stroked the sensitive little organ her father had so often kissed and sucked.

Quite overwhelmed by the passion the priest was stirring in the depths of her cunt, Sylvie did not resist as the priest made her kneel across her bed, her upper body flat against the bedcovers, her hands covering her face, the cleft of her pretty little bottom high in the air. Sylvie wanted so much to show how sorry she was for enjoying the terrible things her father had made her do and she prayed softly as she waited for the priest to join her.

Perhaps it was the beauty of the prayer that made her forget for a moment where she was and not hear the slurping sound that came from behind her, but she cried out with surprise when she suddenly felt Father Etienne pass his hands round her hips, press his naked body against hers and once more lay the huge length of his cock between her buttocks.

"There is a new experience I must now instruct you in, my daughter," Father Etienne whispered in her ear. "You will find it more productive of pain than pleasure at first, but the ways of repentance are difficult, and only to be learnt and enjoyed by degrees."

"Of course, Father," Sylvie managed to say; distracted by the way the lustful priest was rubbing the head of his member up and down the silky-smooth cleft of her bottom. "I will do whatever is necessary - ahh - ohhh!" Sylvie could not help but cry out. Father Etienne had pressed the bulging head of his mighty cock in the slit of her dripping pussy and thrust the full length up into her body. She was impaled on his prick as he began to fuck her with long, deep strokes, lifting her up bodily every time he drove his hips forward.

So forcefully was Father Etienne fucking her that Sylvie felt each moment would be her last because the sheer size of the cock the priest was thrusting into her body was so much greater than that of her dear Papa. She instinctively knew that only the fact that she was so young and the walls of her slit were so wet and elastic enabled her to manage such a monster. All thoughts of prayer were driven from her mind: all she could hear was the sound of the priest behind her as he grunted with the strength of his thrusts and moaned out his pleasure, all she could feel was the pressure inside her cunt as the slick walls clasped tight the huge prick sliding back and forth. Deeply concerned that she was being made to sin once again, Sylvie closed her eyes and gripped the covers in her little fists as she waited for the ordeal to end.

But it was far from over. Indeed, the exquisite fucking she was receiving was merely the prelude. Suddenly the priest removed his prick from the depths of her sex with a wet slurp and, lifting himself so that his body was above and behind hers, Sylvie felt him press the tip of his stiff member against the small orifice between her beautiful buttocks. Pushing forward his well-lubricated weapon by degrees, he slowly penetrated her anal sphincter.

"Oh, my -!" cried Sylvie. "Please Father, you are in the wrong place - it hurts. Oh, have mercy! Spare me!"

This last cry was caused by a final and vigorous thrust on the part of the priest, which sent his massive member up to the hairs that covered the lower portion of his belly so that he was in Sylvie's bottom to the balls.

Passing his strong arm around her hips, Father Etienne pressed close to Sylvie's back; his strong hips rubbed against her buttocks, and he kept his stiff member thrust into her rectum as far as it would go. Sylvie could feel pulsations of pleasure throughout the swollen length, and she bit her lips as she awaited the movements which she well knew he was about to make in order to complete his enjoyment.

Delighted by the tightness of this new and delicious sheath, the priest laboured at Sylvie's round buttocks until, with a final lunge, he filled her bowels with great gouts of hot, thick liquid. The sensation was so wonderful that Sylvie also climaxed, despite her feeling that what the priest had done to her had very little to do with forgiveness and prayer.

Lying beneath the lustful priest and expecting that he would withdraw to allow her to expel the huge quantity of creamy semen he had deposited in her arsehole, Sylvie was surprised and shocked when Father Etienne started to ride her even more strongly than before, his prick now sliding back and forth through the mass of creamy liquid pumped out by his balls. Sylvie moaned, whimpered and sobbed but it was of no use: Father Etienne was determined to run a second course of sodomy and even lifted her effortlessly onto the bed, lay full length on top of her and hooked his legs under hers so that, as he opened his legs wide, so Sylvie was forced to do the same, the motion pressing her lovely little rump even harder against the lance of his cock buried deeply within her overstuffed back passage.

Eventually the lustful priest spurted his semen once more into Sylvie's flooded bowels and then rolled off her, dragging his cock from the confines of her anus as he did so.

"My child," he panted, "that was delightful, truly wonderful. I own there is nothing whatever like the clasp of a young girl's bumhole round a man's cock to give him the most sublime pleasure. I shall wish to do it again next Thursday and every Thursday after. That way will lead to the eventual salvation of your immortal soul and your forgiveness."

"Thank you, Father," was all Sylvie could say.

"Now come, my child. As a final gesture of humility, I should like you to take my prick in your mouth and suck until you have drained the last of my manly essence."

The young girl did as she was told.

The months passed and Sylvie found herself unable to escape the embraces of the lustful priest. Every Thursday he would spend several hours taking his pleasure of the three holes in her body, spending first in her mouth to rid himself of the pressure of the spunk that had built up in his balls during the week, then deeply fucking her deliciously clasping cunt, finally taking what seemed like an eternity buggering her beautifully tight and fragrant arsehole. However much Sylvie asked if she had done penance enough, and inquired whether Maitre Solange had completed the sale of her parent's house and effects, Father Etienne would explain patiently that business matters take a long time to complete and then instruct her to hold open the cheeks of her bottom as wide as possible so that the lubricating oil could reach every last crevice of her puckered hole before it was stretched wide by his massive prick.

Finally, the day after the Thursday that opened this reminiscence, when Sylvie found herself having to endure the terrible ordeal of the priest being so aroused that he was set for a fourth climax deep within her bowels, Sylvie was told by Therese that the Bishop, Superior Jean-Yves d'Assisi, would be visiting on Saturday and that she should take her second bath of the week in order to be presentable as the Father's charge. Sylvie knew then that this was her chance. She would make the Bishop aware that she was due the proceeds of the sale, that she longed to travel to Lyons to be with her Uncle, and that she had been fucked and buggered repeatedly by the lustful priest while supposedly in his care.

The Bishop arrived in his motorcar on the Saturday afternoon. Sylvie was duly introduced and curtsied politely and correctly. The Bishop put out his hand to receive her and she kissed his ring as Father Etienne had told her to. Bishop Jean-Yves put out his hand and raised her to her feet. "Charming," he murmured, "quite charming."

Sylvie excused herself immediately after dinner and made her way to her room. She undressed quickly and put on her nightdress, combing out her long, sleek blonde hair. Before long the clattering from the kitchen died down and Sylvie knew Therese had gone to bed. Only the sound of the Bishop and Father Etienne laughing from behind the closed door of the Father's study could still be heard in the house.

Sylvie lay on her bed determined to listen for the sound of the Bishop climbing the stairs to the room where he was to sleep. Trying too hard to stay awake, she dozed so that her candle had almost worn down when she heard the stairs creak and the sound of Father Etienne's voice saying, "Good night, your Grace," and the Bishop's answering, "Good night, Etienne."

Sylvie waited for a further five minutes and then crept across the landing, taking care to avoid those floorboards which she knew creaked. She knocked very softly on the Bishop's door. There was a footfall and the door was opened. The Bishop was wearing a red silk gown tied around his waist and Sylvie blushed when she noticed the exposed hairs of his chest at the neck of the gown.

"My child!" said the Bishop in surprise.

"Please your Grace," said Sylvie rushing into the room and hurriedly closing the door behind her. "I must speak with you!"

"Come and sit by me," the Bishop said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Sylvie sat next to him and was so overcome that she might soon be free of her ordeal that she burst into tears and sobbed against his chest as he put an arm round her shoulder and held her close.

"My child - whatever is the matter?"

Sylvie explained about the death of her father, the inheritance she had been denied, and blushed as she recounted the dreadful manner in which she had been used repeatedly by Father Etienne.

"My dear Sylvie, this is scandalous!" the Bishop said, his face clouded with anger. "It is monstrous that you should have been subjected to so terrible an ordeal!"

"Oh thank you, your Grace. I did so hope you would understand and free me of this place that I might travel to Lyons to be with my Uncle and his family."

"Of course you must, my child," said the Bishop, holding her face in his hand and smiling at her. Sylvie felt the warmth of his smile and felt safe for the first time in many months. "But you do know that what you are suggesting is a terrible crime committed by Father Etienne against the chastity of his calling and the sanctity of the Church, don't you?"

Sylvie was not at all sure that she understood but she knew that the Bishop would explain.

"There has to be proof, dear Sylvie. Proof that that will dispel any doubt concerning the accusations you have made towards Father Etienne. Do you have proof, my child?"

"I don't know, your Grace," said Sylvie. "There is only the little opening to my bottom," and she blushed even more fiercely than before. "Only yesterday Father Etienne fucked me there four times and it may still be stretched wide. I could -"

"My dear child. I know how distressing it must be for you. But I must have the proof to accuse this terrible man," the Bishop said in a quiet voice. "You must show me, however much it upsets you. Please, climb on the bed and lift your nightdress over your head so that I might see where you have been so dreadfully used."

Sylvie did as she was told. She climbed onto all fours on the Bishop's bed, reached back and lifted her nightdress. She knew that her pretty little naked bottom was displayed to the gaze of the Bishop and felt him gently part the cheeks with his hands the better to inspect the pink puckered opening of her anus. Sylvie felt sure the Bishop would see immediately the evidence that the poor little hole had been repeatedly fucked.

A gasp of surprise escaped her lips as she suddenly felt hot breath on the fragrant skin and then the sensation of something warm and wet being pressed past the muscle. "Oh your Grace!" Sylvie cried as she realized he had entered her bumhole with his tongue. She tried to rise but could not: the Bishop was holding her down by pressing his hands on her back. However much she wanted to, Sylvie could do nothing to escape the questing tongue as it was thrust repeatedly into her rectum.

"Was I not right, your Grace?" came another voice from behind Sylvie that she recognized immediately as Father Etienne's. "Does her delicious arsehole not taste and smell even sweeter and more enticing than that of the prettiest choirboy?"

"Oh Etienne, you spoke the truth a thousand times over," said the Bishop, pausing for only a moment before burying his face once more between the cheeks of Sylvie's bottom.

"Will you attack her in the buttocks while I work my prick in her slippery cunt, your Grace? She is so petite we might lift her between us, you with your weapon in her bowels, mine in her belly. What delicious sensations that would give us!"

And Sylvie, knowing that there was no way the Bishop would refuse such an enticing offer and that her hope of escaping was lost forever, took off her nightdress with a soft sigh and resigned herself to her fate.

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