Not all nuns are peaceful and passive
This was originally intended to be a brief ‘flashback’ in another story but it developed into something I thought was worth publishing in it’s own right. Enjoy
1536, Eastern Counties, England
A platoon of foot soldiers reach the top of a small wooded ridge overlooking a convent house. Leading from the rear is a large built man in his 40’s on horseback with self-appointed regal air. He glares down the slope at a group of black-robed nuns tilling the soil of a vegetable patch, his face crimson with rage. “Nuns!” he bellows at the regional commander who had accompanied them. “You failed to carry out my orders to evict and seize their land and wealth because of a few women?” he roared. “P..p..please your majesty. Let me explain” the man trembled before the short-tempered monarch. “Explain this” the sovereign cried and with unbridled rage unsheathed his sword and swung it around cutting the man’s head off in a single gory blow. “Anyone else wish to explain it to me?” the Tyrant roared holding the bloody blade high. None dare speak. “Then follow me. Anything of value is mine. You may plunder all that is left and f*ck the nuns if that is your want, then destroy the place”
Following the mounted Royal, the troops marched towards the building to find a group of nuns waiting for them. Each wore a traditional religious habit that included a loose black tunic draped to the ground over which a white wimple covered neck, shoulders and chest while a stiff white coif framed the face from which a long black veil draped down the back. A silver cross on a necklace was the only ornamentation visible. The Mother Superior stepped forwards to greet them with a stern look of disapproval. Short in stature, she was a plump woman of mature age, yet sturdy in girth. That reinforced his belief that the church was in possession of wealth that was rightfully his. Only the upper-class had the right to eat well! As befitting her status, she had a rounded homely chubby-cheeked face of plain countenance with metal rimmed spectacles adorning small brown eyes. He also noted that she possessed a large bust of breath-taking fullness, width and slopes that the flowing dress failed to hide. If he had time after looting this place he wouldn’t mind putting a bag over her head and f*ck her breasts before chopping her head off.
Mother Superior bowed her head with palms pressed together before her in welcome but her disrespectful withering glare was not. “Out of my way wench!” his majesty roared. “Will King Henry address a lady from horseback?” she spoke with calm authority while a cold sneer silently mocked him. Summoning his aides, they helped him dismount. “You can call me Mother” she informed him as he faced her glowering. “I certainly will not. You are not my mother!” he bellowed “You and your ladies have 5 minutes to vacate the premises. Take nothing of value. I will be checking” “By whose authority?” she challenged in a calm yet steely tone. “Mine God damn you!” he roared “You will obey me. I am God’s anointed representative on Earth”. “The arrogant claim of the power hungry rich. All people are equal in God’s eyes” she replied “You are just a power-mad Tyrant seeking to fill his coffers through the plunder of property belonging to people of faith because the Pope will not annul your marriage. Leave us be or suffer the consequences” “Seize them all” he yelled “Take them to the Tower to be publicly parted with their heads which will be hung on Traitor’s Gate as a warning to all who displease me”.
With a bloody-thirsty yell, his men began to advance on the line of sisters while the noble King stood back to enjoy the spectacle with the haughty Mother Superior by his side. Instead of fleeing like helpless women, the sister nuns stood their ground in strange wide-legged stances side-on to the oncoming men with their hands raised flat with stiff fingers held together resembling blades. With stern stony faces they looked aggressive as if ready to brawl with his men. Hah! The thought made him laugh. Maybe he’d find the prettiest one and wrestle her himself before taking her then executing her.
Nuns of all ages, but predominately mature, in long flowing robes and head veils formed a perfectly straight row with a military precision as though mocking his army. “HAI!” a loud massed shout startled him as their right arms rose swiftly in front of them as if blocking a punch that had never been thrown. What madness was this? Being faced by a line of aggressive nuns who didn’t run away screaming made his men uneasy. “Ignore their silly dance. If they want a dance let’s see how they dance in the bed chamber” he cried. “HA!” another unearthly shout and the nuns stepped forward as one stiffly throwing their left arms across their fronts as if shielding themselves while drawing back their right fists against their sides. It somehow seemed threatening and aggressive while each bore a hard steely face that further unsettled the men. “They’re just wenches” the King shouted “Grab them or face my wrath”. The front row moved to obey. “HAI!” the nuns stepped forwards to meet them, their right fists flying forwards in a blur. The loud disturbing sound of a row of fists connecting with the jaws of his men was followed by a mass cry of pain. The heads of his entire front row jerked skywards with agonised expressions of surprise. “HAI!” each women pulled one fist back while the other punched forwards in a sharp aggressive motion, their left fists blurred streaks followed by the humiliating loud crack of their fists in perfectly synchronised upper cuts against male jaws. To the King’s disbelief, the heads of the entire front row of men jerked back over their shoulders in a spray of blood and spittle then continued to fall to the ground like cut trees in the forest. Men of his prized army laid out at the feet of a rabble of pious holy women! It was embarrassing! Heads will roll after this, he swore.
“HA!” the holy women swiftly exchanged fists while stomping on the unconscious bodies, like an advancing black-robed wall, grinding groins underfoot. “HA!” stepping forwards, each punched the air with one fist as the other pulled back by their sides while glaring maliciously at the next line of men who shuffled nervously like amateurs. They weren’t like nuns at all, the Tyrant thought, they were like a female army! “HAI!” skirts unfurled like a fan scandalously revealing lower legs sheathed in thick black stockings as a row of unshod feet rose steeply towards the sky. Impossible! no-one could kick that high! Bare feet pound male faces shockingly loud sending them senseless to the ground trailing a blood-red spray of defeat. They use their legs as weapons! the King thought in astonishment as their feet returned to the ground with graceful elegance and took another step, treading without care over the fallen men. “HAI!” the crunch of bone was sickening as they stomped their soles into the upturned faces. The remaining men froze in terror as these warrior nuns continued their regimented advance. The horror of a humiliating defeat of his army by a group of nuns would make him a laughing stock!
“Your swords!” yelled the sovereign “Cut them down. Kill them all!” The nuns reacted first to his cry, scooping up the weapons of the fallen men. The King scoffed. A bunch of nuns pitching swords against his highly trained army! The fields will soon run red with their blood. He laughed as the nuns held their swords delicately as if they were knitting needles but was then shocked as they wielded them with a light touch and speed that belied the heavy weight of the blade. Deftly turning aside the blades of the men who used pure brawn and strength, the women’s swords danced swiftly delivering fast precision strikes that seemed light yet caused serious incapacitation. Men continue to fall, as the women outclassed them proving highly proficient with sword-work. Demure unquestionably feminine women, many with large heaving busts were making a mockery of his army. Fighting them to a standstill with their blades, the long-robed and hooded women displayed a graceful nonchalant ease that mocked the prowess of their male opponents making them look like clumsy oafs before dispatching them. Some used stunning double-sword skills that cut a swathe through the lines combined with extraordinarily high kicks to the head, shamelessly showing thick black stocking-clad legs, that would send a man reeling before cutting him down.
The King gasped as one enthusiastic sister broke a pike in half with the edge of her hand then began swinging the ends around her body at blinding speed while leaping and crouching around men blocking sword-strikes before knocking away their feet from under them and sticking them like hogs.
His mood lightened as a slim young nun was surrounded by 4 men with swords and shields, looking forward to seeing the bitch hacked to pieces. She didn’t look scared but stood her ground confidently. “HAI!” her habit flew up as a knee rose sharply in front of her then straightened as the foot pulsed out to smash straight through the shield and on into his throat. Even before he began to drop away, the slim black-clad Sister from hell spun right around until she was side-on to the man behind. “HA!” the robe flicked up again as a long shapely leg flashed out sideways pulverising his shield like matchwood and driving the bare sole against his throat with a ghastly sound.
The man collapsed clutching his neck as the nimble fresh-faced nun spun to face the third man who began to swing his sword. “YAI!” leaning swiftly away from him while side on, a long leg arced around. “Argh!” his wrist broke with a terrible crack and the sword fell from his hand. “HAI!” her right fist smashed through his shield. “YAH!” her left fist rushed forwards as the right retracted pounding loudly against his stomach. The King watched aghast as her fist plunged deep into the man’s belly. An explosion of breath and spit left his mouth as his face creased in agony before folding over clutching his gut. “HAI!” her right arm shot forward and her open palm smashed against his right cheek, distorting his mouth and whipping his face hard to the left in a spray of spit, blood and teeth. “HA!” her left palm slammed into his jaw, knocking the man to the ground at speed. No sooner had his back hit the dirt than she stood astride his body. “HAI!” leaning over her right fist plummeted hammering his face like a plum upon an anvil. His face disintegrated with the dread sound of bone breaking and blood and gore exploding into the air.
The other man was already swinging his sword down to finish her off from behind. In the blink of an eye, she had dropped to her hands and a knee. Her dress fell back around a leg as it kicked back at steep angle behind her. “HA!” her foot plunged deep into his belly. “Worrph!” he wailed dropping the sword as his feet momentarily left the ground and he fell to the ground clutching his gut. As she crouched over him with a menacing open hand held high, he had presence of mind to raise his shield horizontally to protect himself. “HAI!” the hand fell like a woodsman’s axe until the edge struck the shield. The King was surprised by his manhood lurching as the shield splintered into pieces. What supernatural power was this? Leaping astride the man in a very unladylike yet exciting manner, the unexpectedly powerful nun pulled back a fist and punched the helpless man’s face to a bloody pulp and his arms and legs moved no more.
The Tyrant couldn’t believe it. Four soldiers totally defeated by a mere slip of a girl, and a nun at that, in less than a minute. Disgusted by the ineptitude of his men, he turned to leave the slaughter-field but found his way blocked by the petite and stocky Mother Superior. “As you can see, the nuns keep themselves in top physical condition” she told him with a smug smirk, her right finger pointing and wagging at him as if scolding a child. “God gave us these wondrous bodies and it is our duty to keep them in peak fitness” “All I see is a fat old hag with big breasts” he snarled glaring at her wide sloped frontage. He made to walk past but the mature woman obstructed him. “Fleeing the field of defeat, Henry Plantagenet, in all your fine armour?” she mocked. “I AM THE KING!” he roared, throwing out an arm to push her aside. In the blink of an eye, the buxom woman’s right arm flashed out to entwine around his, trapping his forearm tight beneath her armpit. He went to pull his arm back but was shocked to find it immobile. With a smug expression she pressed her other hand against the back of his elbow. “Argh! Get off woman!” he cried as she pushed his elbow the wrong way despite his armour. He could feel the joint painfully over-stretch and feared it would break. “Unhand me, wench!” he cried, unable to believe that a small pious lady could cause so much pain. “Certainly” she replied in a merry mocking tone, releasing his arm. “I ought to kill you for touching the King” he told her. “I would advise you not to try” she replied “Anyhow who would carry out such a command as your troops are dying upon the battlefield you flee?” “I’m your Liege!“ he roared “A mighty fighter unafraid of an old hag and her bar-brawling trick” he glared trying to intimidate her with his height and girth.
Mother Superior stoically stood her ground with the big bundle under the front of her robe proudly thrust forwards and a stern glare upon her face. “You will regret this, you silly man” she chastised “Suffer unto The Lord!”. “HAI!” she shouted. Startled, the King watched in astonishment as the plump woman’s right knee soared unbelievably high, the robe falling back to reveal a thick sturdy bare-skinned thigh with folded shin pressing large flared calves. Flying as straight and fast as an arrow, the sole of her foot struck the centre of his chest-plate like a battering ram. “Ungh!” a shocking wave of power ripped through his armour sending him staggering fast backwards. Badly shaken and groaning from the unexpectedly strong kick, he glanced down and was horrified to see an extraordinarily deep dent in the metal. Looking up in disbelief, he saw the energetic plump nun spinning right around, with the hem of her robe lifting high. The homely-looking woman stopped, presenting her side to him with open hands raised like blades. She looked so fierce and strong he experienced a wave of fear.
Leaning her upper torso away from him and with a dramatic heave of her heavy bust, Mother Superior’s robe lifted at the knee with the shin angling towards him. “HAI!” with a flash like lightning, the sole of her foot pounds his chest-plate alarmingly hard, while the dress billows around short beefy legs. “Hnnn!” jerking onto his toes, the top of his upper body creases forwards as his gut is driven backwards. In alarm he saw a raised knee with the foot aimed at him. Large strong calves flared out either side of the shin as the dress hung around the middle of a thick sturdy upper leg. “KiiiAA!” a speeding blur of motion and glimpse of thighs bulging like a strong man’s as the foot sped towards his middle. “Nnnaaagh!” he wailed as a terrifying force tore through the armour, shaking his innards violently. The motherly-looking nun’s kick was like a thunderbolt and he felt his feet completely leave the ground as he hurtled backwards through the air for several feet before crashing to the ground.
Clutching his chest, badly winded and struggling to breathe, he was stunned by the unbelievably shocking power of the woman’s kick. Although he had seen younger sisters demonstrate fearsome shield-breaking kicks against his men, he never expected the serene mature Mother Superior to demean herself with common fighting and given her maternal appearance and plump-looking figure, he had never thought her capable of such a devastating kick. “Orrragh!” no matter how hard he tried, he was just not able to draw in air. A terrible constriction prevented his chest from expanding. Looking down, he was mortified to find the chest-plate badly crumpled. No! Impossible! He looked up into the hard chilling eyes of the mature Mother Superior glaring down at him over a massive swinging bust as she lent over drawing back her right fist. “HAI!” a black-clad streak lanced towards his chest. The shocking sound of ripping metal accompanies her fist as it plunges straight through and deep into his gut. “Wargghhh” his torso snaps upright into a sitting position with mouth wide open as his breath escapes then remains open as dreadful cramps racks his stomach. Rocking back and forth, straining for the barest drop of air, he is horrified to be put in this state by a mere aged woman. Desperate for breath he unbuckled and discarded the ruined chest-plate but did not find relief.
“Stand up and face your doom” Mother Superior demands with her mature aged face set in stern arrogance with lips turned down at the corners in a tight pout. She looked like a mature strict disciplinarian in a manner that made him feel submissive yet strangely excited. Reaching down, a formidable brawny forearm slides from her sleeves, thick, full of tendons, bulges and strongly shaped like no woman should have. Completely incapacitated by agonising cramps in his diaphragm, he is unable to stop her as she hauls him effortlessly to his feet so fast he realises that she is much stronger than she looks, much stronger than a woman has the right to be. Forcing him to stand, she holds up her right fist in front of his face and gives a chilling smile that sends shivers down his spine while her hard eyes bore into his. “Meet the hammer of God, false-King” she smiles coldly as his torso continues to rock back and forth in desperation to draw breath, unable to give a stinging rebuke. “Even a mighty King is no match for a Sister of The Lord” she says with amused mirth writ upon her face as the mighty man struggled to breathe. “What…kind..demon?” he gasps forcing out the words through sheer will. “No demon, just a woman filled with The Lord’s strength who bested the Tyrant King of England” she replied with a mocking smirk. No-one spoke to him like that! No-one struck the King and lived. With cramps still racking his lungs but full of rage and fear of this dreadful woman who could punch through armour he threw a fist towards her face. Calmly and with a dismissive sneer, she stopped his punch casually with one hand. Gripping his wrist, the short stocky woman raised his right arm into the air pulling it around as she turned in a circle. With an icy smug look of superiority, she forced the lumbering monarch to orbit her in humiliation until he was standing behind her with his right hand in the air. Swiftly swinging his wrist down, the large bulk of a man in armour was miraculously jerked from his feet, whipping into the air to turn somersault at dizzying speed by her side. He cried out when the ground struck the back of his shoulders ground before his spine unfurled upon it.
With a steely grip of his right wrist and a scornful expression, the mature fighting nun crouched over him bending his hand back sharply causing excruciating pain with lack of care writ large upon her stern face. Forcing the great armoured bulk of the monarch to his feet with great fear of breaking his wrist, he again experienced utter humiliation. With her heavy chest bouncing but no time to appreciate it, she grabbed the top of his arms and fell backwards pulling him down with her while her skirt lifted to plant a small bare foot against his codpiece. Before he could crush her beneath his heavy bulk, her back met the ground and the leg straightened lifting the King’s posterior high into the air propelling the much larger armoured man high over her body with tremendous speed. His body tumbled over in the air like a court acrobat until the back of his shoulders pounded the ground beyond her head.
Without sign of exertion, the white-haired Mother Superior gracefully got to her knees facing the King’s head as he lay stunned and gasping upon his back. The aged nun had demonstrated that she was a formidable fighter, something that alarmed him yet was erotically alluring. She raised a hand, open-palmed with fingers extended as if carrying a blade. The aged hand looked so rigid and menacing while her strict hard face glared at him with confidence in her ability to inflict pain upon the Royal person that it unnerved him. “HAI!” her hand fell like an axe. “Urrghh!” the edge of her small wrinkled hand struck the side of his neck between his helmet and shoulder. She may have only been an elderly woman but the side of her hand felt harder than iron. For a moment he was paralysed as terrifying spasms spread from his neck to his arms, hands and head. His body convulsed and twitched in an unnerving manner like a terrible affliction of the weak lower classes. Lying on his back he felt relief as the shaking passed until the warrior nun rose and stood over him. “Submit now” her voice was strident and commanding, almost alluringly so as her face peered at him from over breath-taking wide steep sided slopes that expanded and fell with every breath. It was a sight to stir his loins. “Or maybe you enjoy being dominated by a woman?” The hem of her dress rose as a foot stretched forwards to rub his armoured codpiece, giving view of large calves that were strongly muscled like a young man’s yet hairless and smooth with a pleasing shape. To his embarrassment he became aware of the stiff manhood that lie within. He began to rise, unashamedly staring at her bust, thinking about what he planned to do with her after defeating her. Her hands rose in that strange aggressive stance of hers. “Madam, you are a more capable opponent in weapon-less combat than many men I have practised with; and beaten” a strange hungry smile spread upon his face. “You are a strange kind of woman, yet the thought of grappling with you and subduing you in victory is most exhilarating” he said “I may even take you for the King’s pleasure before executing you” he added, warily circling the fighting nun looking for an opening. The pious woman didn’t give him one.
“HAAAYAA!” her foot came out of nowhere soaring high with a limber flexible ease that suggested she would excel in the bed chamber. The top of her thigh almost hit her voluminous bust, the hem falling back over big solid rounded strong legs as a shin with large hanging curvaceous calf muscle straightened towards his face. With loud audible impact the sole of her foot struck his jaw beneath the chin-strap like a battering ram. “Oarghh!” smashing his teeth together, his face snapped towards the sky in a spray of blood and drool. For a moment it seemed the King would topple over backwards yet with lolling head and dazed expression, he managed to keep his balance. “You stupid man” the Mother Superior berated him with cold sneering contempt. “You thought this would be an easy fight against a few helpless women. Think again” she raised her right fist and pointed to it with her other hand, drawing his attention to the small dainty fist. “You see this?” she asked “Isn’t God wonderful how he made something so small yet able to cause so much destruction?”
“HAI!” her balled fist streaked faster than he expected, straight though his open visor to pound his face like a hammer hitting the anvil. “Arghh!” he felt small hard knuckles against the bones of his face which exploded in agonising pain as his nose broke in a bloody mess. Her punch was so forceful that his head jerked back hard with his vision blurring in blinding jagged lines while staggering backwards. “HAI!” a hard fist smashed into the side of his jaw with crushing force that drove the whole of his bottom jaw to one side with the rest of his face following fast. “HAI!” sleeves billowed around a speeding arm revealing a fearsome thick shaped forearm packed with hard slabs and prominent tendons. Her fist pounded his mouth with terrifying intensity, the knuckles splitting his lip while contorting his mouth and snapping his head back. It felt as if the world was spinning while his legs went weak and trembled, threatening to give way at any moment. She was a nun! Nuns didn’t punch people. Yet this old nun hit harder than hell. Dazed, the King sensed her close. Terrified of another punch he swung a mailed fist in her direction. It never connected.
“HAH!” leaning away to one side, her sleeves fell back over brawny forearms as she seized his wrist. With amazing dexterity, a powerful smooth-skinned leg lifted high at an angle, thicker than a man’s arm with strong bulging shapes, while her bust lurched wildly. “Mmmm!” he tasted the dirt and grit on her sole as it blasted his mouth mashing his lips upon his teeth, while scrambling his senses. The strength of her kick propelled him into the air and he would have fallen if her hand hadn’t gripped his wrist.
With the robe billowing around her legs, the senior nun leant away from him with her knee raised high angled across her upper body and foot pointing towards him as if cocking a cross-bow. A glimpse of a powerful upper legs like those of a muscular man yet smooth and hairless was arousing yet unnerved him with the sheer raw power they emanated. “EEYAH!” his manhood lurched as her foot arced backwards. The sole of her foot struck the side of his face so fast and hard it nearly dislocated his jaw while whipping his face from one side to the other, right over his shoulder in a spray of spittle and blood. Again, the steely hold upon his wrist kept him from falling.
“HAI HAI HAI!” her strong right leg was a terrifying blur of lightning-fast destructive power, kicking his face from right to left to right repeatedly with metronomic regularity at incredible speed. With astonishing stamina and flexibility she kept kicking the King’s face back and forth while large double-headed spear-shaped muscle bulged prominently in her calves as they turned his face into a bruised and battered mess while her stern face looked on with scorn. All the while her large endowed bust heaved and lurched without restraint in a manner that could cause impure thoughts and constant a reminder that he was being destroyed by a woman.
The brutal kicks to the head blasted his brain into a stupor, so it was several moments before he realised that the pounding had ceased and hands had laid upon the top of his helm. “HAI!” with a big heave of the heavy low hanging womanhood at the front her robe, he screamed in terror at a broad knee rushing towards his face. Her knee smashed against his jaw like a cannonball, crashing his jaws together as his head whipped skyward. Such pain lanced through his jaw setting his whole skull awash with agony, he feared the very bones of his face had broke. With his vision blinded by painful stabs of light and face aching, he felt his feet leave the ground and his entire body hurtle backwards through the air.
His speeding body was caught from behind by several pairs of hands. Surprise turned to horror as he realised in deep shame that he was being held upright by sister nuns who must have been observing his embarrassment. That also meant that there no-one to rescue him as these pious women had killed an entire platoon of men! “My liege” Mother Superior addressed him in a sneering mocking tone “I am sure that you agree that I am a superior mother indeed”. Embarrassingly her words made his trouser-sword lurch stiffly. His senses cleared to see the terrifying stern-faced mature nun standing standing before him him looking very buxom and dominant. The white bib covering the enormous low slung wide bust of his vanquisher proclaimed she was all woman. Held up by the sisters, he watched unable to act as her knee rose sharply twisted to one side, the hem of the dress falling back to reveal short thick upper legs ladened with powerful slabs of dense hard muscle. “HA! HA! HA!” her lower leg snapped straight faster than the eye could follow. Mighty kicks hammered against the sides of his helm whipping his face which way and back and back again at excruciating speed within a heartbeat.
“Please“ he gasped “I will let you keep your lands and wealth, and will decree you are left alone in perpetuity” The Mother Superior gave a smug smile “Indeed! and all you will get from me is PAIN!” “No!” he wailed as with a dramatic heave of her huge breasts and a fierce scowl, the hem of her robe slid back over muscled thighs as her left knee rose high in front of her as she turned sideways on with a long shin with large flared calves aimed towards him. “EEYAH!” a terrifying bulge of huge leg muscles and the sole of her was hammering his face with bloody intensity, numbing his lips and bruising his cheek. His head and body jerked back so hard that the sister nuns lost their grip on him.
Through blurred eyes he saw the terrifying short sturdy robed figure step towards him and spin to present her side to him. Raising her knee high across her body, as the robe fell away to once more present those powerful bulging shapes in her thighs, he was shocked to be staring right at her naked crotch. “YAH!” her foot pulsed towards him at terrifying speed in a high sideways kick. “Naargh!” he wailed as her sole pounded the side of his cheek and jaw with a horrific loud crack of bone as his lower jaw slipped sideways away from the dreadful impact. Great Asura Mahisha save me! he prayed as the merciless nun with the cold stone stare seized his wrist and leant away with intent on total destruction clear in her eyes.
Once more her right knee leapt to chest height before her with the wide-calved shin bent back cocked to strike. “EEEYAH! YAH! YAH!” the mature short sturdy Mother Superior screamed loudly making his manhood lurch in terror. Her foot moved like a thunderbolt clubbing him around the head and face in a constant barrage of fear. Kick after kick delivering dreadful pain at brain scrambling speed. Blood flew freely as she obliterated his face whipping it in a blur from side to side then clubbing him around the top of his head sending him this way and that in the blink of an eye. How could the woman keep her leg up so high for so long yet still kick like horse?
For a moment the brutal face-destroying battering stopped. The King just stood there gently swaying back and forth, too dazed to even think about running, his jaw busted and mouth too swollen to plead for mercy. With the hem of her robe now completely fallen around the top of her right thigh, the King sweated in terror at the sight through swollen bruised eyes of the largest hardest leg muscles he’d ever seen, even on a man. Large powerful muscular shapes bulged on the mature nun’s upper leg, each standing in bold relief the likes he had never seen before. So clearly powerful were they, he feared she would place his head between her legs and crush him to death. Yet as much as he feared them there was a primal smooth hairless feminine sensuality about them that set his manhood beating so stiffly against the inside of his codpiece that the knowing smirk on her face showed she could hear it.
“HAI!” those huge mighty leg muscles flexed driving her foot high into the air within a heartbeat, whipping right around the side of his face to club the back of his head so hard that his face snapped down fast, smashing his broken jaw against the top of his chest in agony. With a relentless enthusiasm and energy that made him feel drained and demoralised, Mother Superior launched a hailstorm of furious kicks stretching her right leg remarkably high to lash him relentlessly around the top of his head and sides of his face. The power of the woman’s kicks was truly shocking and so quick that he felt weak and less a man as she asserted total superiority over him with her deadly feet. His head felt like a cork in a torrential river, as the dangerous nimble legged woman kicked him so hard and fast he didn’t know which way was left or Hampton. His brain was so addled that it took several moments before he realised the dreadful skull hammering had ceased.
Forcing himself to focus his eyes he watched in aroused awe as the stout old woman’s right leg kicked up towards the sky in a flash giving full view of incredibly developed hamstrings and shapely calve muscles like spade heads. The top of her thigh hit her large chest and with remarkable agility stayed there, beckoning to his eyes to enjoy the brazen arousing view. With her legs outrageously displayed in full, one stacked atop the other, bare without thick woollen stockings, he was shocked and highly aroused to find himself staring at the her hairy pussy right before him. Despite his pain the sight was so incredibly arousing he almost blasted inside his codpiece. “HAI!” the leg dropped like an axe with the heel coming down like a sledgehammer on the top of his helmet. The helm was crushed against his head with such force that the iron pinched tightly around the crown of his head that he was forced to remove it.
Looking up he was puzzled that Mother Superior had backed up some distance from him. Suddenly she began running towards him with her massive heavy bust heaving as if she had two tabby cats fighting under her smock setting his dick beating. However, her face bore a look of cruel determination. “EEEEYAH!” a mighty long cry rooted him to the spot with dread as her short powerful legs launched the aged woman to an astonishing height. With her right leg stretched out in front pointed towards him, it was if she were flying. What is this witchcraft? A split-second later with the senior nun looming high above him and full view of her oncoming pussy, the sole of her foot struck him square on his broken jaw in a blaze of terrible crippling agony. Driven by an irresistible powerful force, he felt the smothering darkness in the world close in around him as he plummeted backwards to oblivion.
“Mmmmmm!” he awoke surprised to find himself alive and a with mouthful of coarse hair. Upon either side of his badly battered face were thick bare thighs with knees pinning him to the ground and a heavy weight upon his chest. “You are one very lucky creature” the dread Mother Superior‘s voice came from somewhere above him “Usually we just sacrifice vile unholy creatures to The Lord but for some reason The Pope has given edict to let you live”. She may be an aged plain looking woman of short stature and sturdy build but he found the position of defeat beneath the victorious heavy chested nun very arousing. The woman was more limber and flexible than the best whore, had a very arousing heavy bust, possessed strange unbelievably powerful unarmed fighting skills that surpassed any man he knew and was phenomenally strong. That combined with the smell of her bare sex pressed against his lips with his nose pressed against the front of her pelvis as he lay pinned beneath her was such an overwhelming sensation, no wonder his trouser-sword was aching inside his cod-piece. He therefore felt a mix of frustration mixed with relief when the woman slid back from his face to sit high upon his chest with her crotch over his throat with the bottom of his chin pressed up against the front of her pelvis.
“However” her firm thick thighs squeezed firmly against the sides of his face, again reminding him that there was nothing that he could do to stop her. “I am sure that if you plead for me to put you out of misery” “Orrrrr!” he groaned as her thighs unleashed a strong pressure that pushed up his bruised cheeks and forced his bloodied mouth into a pained open circle. “I am sure that he would understand” Her voice was now muffled by the wall of firm feminine inner thighs crushing his ears flat against the sides of his head. “Orragh!” he groaned louder as the woman’s powerful thighs exerted an inward pressure on the sides of his head and face that made his skull and cheeks tremble and his eyes crease up. “In view of your ill-advised violent assault upon our peaceful community” she continued in that calm cold voice of hers. “In addition to the decree you announced earlier, you will give unto myself and all the Sister nuns of the Covenant of the Holy Messiah the pleasure of The Lord via your oral servitude. Do you agree or shall I demonstrate the power of a woman’s legs?” “EEEEEIII!” he screamed as the old woman’s muscular thighs squeezed with frightening power. The crushing pressure was so terrifying that he was scared to death that his skull would implode and face shatter at any second. “YYYESS YYESSS!” he squealed through lips almost pressed together vertically.
To his relief the terrible head crushing stopped but to his surprise the Mother Superior raised herself onto her knees, which still firmly pin his shoulders to ground. Her bare crotch was now almost a foot away from his face. “Behold the true face of the King!” she proclaimed. With her strong muscular legs framing his vision, he looked up in highly aroused submission at the bare crotch of the victor hovering above his face. His manhood soared aching to get up there but unable. A mature woman she may be but she was unbelievably powerful against which he proved no match. She was just too strong and her unarmed fighting skills too formidable for a man to cope with. He was completely at her mercy and the raw strength she extruded filled him with insatiable lust more than any young wench he could have. Yet he knew that she was unobtainable to his desires except in the one way she offered. With his man-rod beating loudly against the inside of his cod-piece for all to hear, a long serpentine tongue flicked out going right up to tickle the pious lady’s fancy. “Oh yes! Glory be to The Lord!” Mother Superior exclaimed as she rode the beast’s tongue to ecstasy.
1536 was Henry VIII’s annus horribilis, changing from a handsome, popular and athletic ruler to an overweight, ruthless tyrant who inflicted extreme cruelty and oppression upon his wives, the church and subjects. In January he suffered a serious jousting accident. However there are rumours that this was a cover for a more humiliating incident the truth of which is unlikely to be ever known.