The Passion of Agnes Part 2 - Sex Stories

The Passion of Agnes Part 2

Soon I was to travel again through the French countryside but its splendors were to leave me unmoved. The landscape no longer interested me. The birds music no longer cheered my heart. There were no more garlands. Rather than the light-hearted joy of my previous pilgrimage, my veil shielded me from the vanities of nature and beauty. A garment of sackcloth took from me the simple pleasures of my own healthy skin. My eyes swollen from weeping for my lost Cordelia. Following the night I have described, my love and I awoke early and took the cure with our other pious ladies. We prayed devoutly although the two of us felt secure. We had given each other the miracle. We were to stay another day and head back to the hated castle. Strangely enough Grimaldus had disappeared. Our trip back was uneventful but beautiful, colored as it was by our burgeoning love. We could not be as open as we liked, yet we still found the opportunity to steal a thousand kisses and at least a hundred caresses. We held hands wherever we went. M.'s estates had just come into view. Men on horseback were riding at full speed to greet us. Without a word these men laid hands on Cordelia and myself, roughly stripping us of our mounts and taking us into custody. Our ladies gasped in shock. What could this mean? Cordelia was taken away from me in a direction that was wooded as far as the eye could see. I howled in horror but the men stopped my mouth and took me, devastated, through those gloomy corridors, to ...

... deposit me at the feet of my Master. He scowled at me. Amidst his invectives a fleck of spit accompanied the word "tribadism," shooting from between his pursed lips like an oath. It was then I knew all was lost. I knew not why at the time, only that my happiness had been discovered. Why oh why did we not hide ourselves better? Everyone must have noticed the way we looked at each other on our return trip, the little games we played and tender glances we exchanged. I only learned later that the treacherous Grimaldus had been enlisted to spy for my master. The carbuncle had followed us and spied as we immersed ourselves in love. I will never forgive him and may God never do so. I still don't know why Monsieur felt the need to have me watched. I'd never given him cause for suspicion before. Perhaps he sensed that I craved happiness and would slip from him in an instant given the chance to taste it. I listened to M. but after his first few words I felt faint and could no longer. I pleaded for my Cordelia, I offered my life for hers but this elicited only sneers of contempt and further abuse. The gruesome man beat me, slapped me, kicked me, spat at me, vituperated. When he tired of this, I was thrown into a cell deep beneath the castle in a murky, dripping dungeon, shoved a piece of mouldy bread and left to rot. For days, how many in that darkness I know not, I lived on tears. I raged, I shouted, I threatened, then I would relent, plead, apologize, promise to live contritely and to bear ...