“Dear mademoiselle,” she remarked, “you are as kind as if you were a young man and not a young lady!”

“Perhaps,” I replied, in a bantering tone, “you would have no objection if I were a young man?”

“Well,” she coyly replied, “I should like a brother such as you, or a cousin…”

“Or a lover?” I hinted.

She colored slightly and averted her eyes. “After the scene you have just witnessed, my friend, it would be useless for me to effect any prudery. Of course, it was the duty of the Abbess to be present, but I think it was rather in bad taste for her to inform you and your mother of my fault and allow you to witness my punishment.”

“Don't be angry,” I replied kissing her. “It was a very pretty sight indeed, a most luxurious spectacle. Did the holy father hurt you at all?”

“Why, no,” she replied, “as long as the penance lasted I rather enjoyed it. But now I do feel rather inflamed and sore.”

“Permit me,” I replied, “to wipe your secret charms dry with my handkerchief. I will do it gently and you will find yourself much more comfortable.”

Without waiting for her permission, I knelt down before her, lifted her robe and proceeded to dry the delicate lips of her pussy and the lightly-mossed adjacent parts. I wiped gently over the swollen lips, pausing to admire the pouting pinkness of the orifice. The musky fragrance was arousing; I felt my too-long-deprived piston start to stir under my clothes. Not eager to quickly finish the job, I tended her slowly, brushing the down on her mount with each movement, and seeming, as if by accident, to have my fingers open the bruised lips of that abused cunt. Indeed, I very nearly had one digit buried up to the knuckle before I remembered my situation and casually withdrew. As I predicted, she found great comfort from this operation and was profuse in her gratitude. I protested that it was a pleasure to be of service to such a splendid girl as herself.