I was on a cycling holiday in Eastern France; it was the thing to do in the seventies – there being no cheap air flights! At Cambridge I was studying Modern Languages and I thought a three week cycling tour of Lorraine and Alsace would be good for my education, and boy, how it was.

On the first Saturday, in the afternoon, I was travelling at speed, down a hill and as I turned a corner, I ran wide and went onto the gravel. The wheels skidded and I slide off sideways. My body hit a door and it burst open. My head hit the door jam and I lost consciousness.

When I came to I was surrounded by women, some in dresses and others in nun's habits.

"Am I in heaven?" They smiled but didn't speak. It took it a bit of time and then I realised I was in France and they didn't understand me, so I scrabbled around in my brain and translated into French.

"Bon Jour, est ici heaven?"

"Mais non, monsieur, cette une convent"

I was in quite a bit of pain. I looked down and my thigh was all scratched and bleeding – my shorts had been torn in the slide along the road. Two nuns helped me walk into their convent and into a reception room. There, they washed my cuts. I asked after my bicycle and two women went out and pulled it into the yard.

After putting some plastes, they helped me go to the bike and take the panniers off. These held my spare clothing, and I extracted a pair of trousers. Another woman came into the room. She was dressed in an ordinary frock and seemed to be in charge – and she spoke English.

"Who are you and why have you come here? This is a Convent and a Retreat for abused women. We do not allow men here."

"I'm sorry, madam, but have had an accident and I fell through your Entry Door. Can I change into these somewhere, s'il vous plait?"

She helped me to a small bedroom on the first floor. I had difficulty walking up the stairs and my arm hurt.

"This is the bedroom that is used by the priest when he stays. You can change here."

"Fine, and thank you."

I sat down and changed out of my shorts. I walked back out of the room. The woman in charge, who was called Jeanne, took me down to the Rectory. Apparently the convent used to have about 100 of nuns. The Germans raped and pillaged the convent in the war, and since then the numbers had reduced. Recently, very few young girls came forward to become Brides of Christ.

"Nowadays, we have six old nuns and eighteen women who have retreated from the world or have been abused by men and want to get away. They pay what they can, and spend as long as they like here. We are supported financially by the Church and by rents from the local village. Also we sell our own brand of Liquor."

"Could I stay here until I recovered my strength please? "

"Well, if this was only a convent, a man would not even be allowed over the threshold, but since we are a retreat now as well, I think you could stay a few days."

She showed me round and introduced me to some of the women but not the nuns. They all had work to do, cleaning, cooking, bottling and they had discussion groups. Everyone attended the chapel twice a day.

"You can stay in the Priest's room. It is close to the communal lavatories and wash room."

She took me in, and I saw wooden partitioned seated toilets on the left room with four cubicles on each side, eight in all. There were no doors on any of the cubicles. In the right hand room there was a line of hand basins with facing mirrors. On the other side, on the right hand wall, thewre were four open cubicles of shower units.

"We recently had the seated lavatories installed - before that there was just holes in the floor. The older nuns were having trouble squatting down and getting up again."

I noticed that at the far end of the lavatories, there was a cubicle which had a plank about twelve inches wide behind it, going from the toilet cubicle into the washroom area, through a large hole in the wall. The seat consisted of two curved side supports,fixed about six inches above the bowl.

"What is that toilet cubicle with the plank for?" I asked Jeanne.

"Oh, that was used for punishing the nuns who disobeyed the Mother Superior. We only use it for amusement now."

I looked at the device closely. The plank came through the back of the toilet so that it jutted out into the bowl. The other end of the plank extended out and was resting on another toilet bowl with a circular hole cut in it. Half way along, there was a wide leather strap dangling down the side. I wondered what it would be like to be strapped on it. My penis twitched at the idea of licking a load of cunts and being pissed on.

I rested for the rest of the day and spent the time fixing my bike. I also talked to some of the women – some were friendly and a few hostile. By the evening, I was feeling much fitter and I drank several glasses of wine with my meal. Afterwards I was given a glass of their liquor. It tasted sweet and was not as strong as Green Chartreuse or Benedictine. I liked it and had another glass. Unfortunately, I got into an argument with some of the abused women, who had taken a dislike to all men. The upshot was, that I was bundled upstairs into the toilet and strapped to the plank in the toilets. My trousers were pulled down and my ankles were tied to the side of the bowl.

I woke up the next morning at the sound of a bell, with a bad headache. I could see daylight and I could hear women talking. They were laughing and pointing at me. Then one came over to my cubicle, and lifted her nighty to squat over my face. I looked up between her thighs and she looked down at me. Her pubic hairs were tickling my nose. I opened my nose to protest but then she started to piss and my mouth was suddenly full of it. I had to swallow – it tasted salty. When she finished, I licked up the last few drops. Then she rose up off me and looked down.

"That's for leaving me you bastard."

The next one came on top of me and did the same, but this time I kept my mouth shut. The third woman went round to the other end and I felt her play with my prick until it was hard enough for her to sit on it. She didn't insert it into herself but rubbed her cunt up and down it, then pissed all over it, leaving me frustrated.

I was left in peace for a bit and I could see other women coming in and using the hand basins. They all looked at me but no one wanted to use me. There was a gap in time while everyone had their breakfast. Then Jeanne came up to see me with a cup of coffee and a croissant. She let me sit up to drink the coffee, but made it clear that I was not to move out. I drank my coffee and then went and had a piss and shit myself – in a different cubicle!

"We had a meeting after breakfast and we have decided that you should be punished for invading our living space"

"But it was an accident!"

"Yes, but you are still here so you must pay for your sins. You must serve a day strapped on the toilet seat."

Jeanne strapped me down and then pulled her knickers off and sat on my face.

"Embrace my lower hole,"

She said in French. I dutifully pushed my tongue up through a mass of pubic hair and licked her cunt. She moved it up and down until I felt her clitoris at the top of her slit. I licked hard and put my teeth on it, to give her a sensation of pain. She cried out and some liquid came into my mouth followed by load of piss. I had no option but to swallow it all. My prick was standing to attention. She got off me and went round to my cock. She grasped hold of it and slid herself down, then proceeded to fuck me hard. I came very quickly. She rested a moment or two then climbed off and came back to me to make me lick my own spunk off her twat, it was like licking ice cream from a cornet.

After that I had a steady stream of women coming in to have a piss over me.Then one fat woman, sat her large bum over my face, cutting out all daylight. I dutifully pushed my tongue up and found her arse hole. It was wrinkled and closed but I pushed into it. Then to my horror I felt a turd coming out. I didn't have a chance to pull my head away and the turd came into my mouth. I struggled not to swallow but it went in any way, followed by a second one. I had to swallow both. I felt sick. Then she moved back a bit a let fly with a load of smelly piss. I managed to turn my head and vomited out the turds.

She stood up and looking down at me through the gap between her fat thighs said " That's for leaving me for a skinny girl".

My next customers were a pair of plain younger women. One sat on my face while the other one knelt between her legs and watched closely as she pissed with her thighs open. My view was of a neatly trimmed bush. After she had stopped pissing, I licked the drips off her cunt and then licked her vagina. She gave out sounds of pleasure, so I carried on and flicked her clit with my tongue than pushed it as high as I could in her cunt. She moved her bottom back and forward as I licked. Then, suddenly she got up and raced around to the washroom and grabbed my cock. It was not hard yet, so she rubbed it vigorously up and down until it was, then speared herself on it. Her friend ran around to her.

"Stop for a minute, and I'll tie this scarf on him otherwise, he'll come before I can use him,"

She took a scarf off her neck and tied it round the base of my prick. Then the first girl carried on moving up and down. She soon finished. It must have been the first fuck for some time for her. The other girl took her place and similarly pounded my pubic bone. I was loving it. Eventually she stopped, panting, with her head hanging down, her hair obscuring her face. She got off slowly leaving my stiff prick waving in the air. I hadn't come because of the scarf.

"Shall we finish him?"

"Oh yes, I would love to see it spout!"

She wanked me quickly. After a few strokes I yelled for her to let go. My prick bucked and a stream of spunk shot up in the air, some of it going onto her face. She smacked it with her hand.

"Naughty boy, you spat at me!"

My next visitor was an old nun. I knew it was, because everything went totally black and I could smell an old woman's cunt – pissy. Before I could lick it, a stream of piss covered my face. I spluttered as I tried to breath. When it stopped, I heard her voice say "Use your tongue, use your tongue". I had no option but to do as she said. I thrust upwards into the darkness and touched a wet greasy surface. I dutifully licked, but without enthusiasm. The nun made me lick her for a good five minutes, and then she moved off me, my tongue ached with the effort.

After that there was a spell of women coming in to wash their hands before going to lunch. Soon Jeanne came up with a Baguette with ham and cheese in it. Plus a glass of rough red wine. It made all the difference. Jeanne talked to me, and mentioned that the village priest had came to conduct the Sunday Service and had stayed to lunch.

My afternoon session, started with the priest coming in. He saw me in the cubicle but he pissed in another one. Then he went round into the washroom. I could see his face as he bent down to examine my cock and balls.

He gently picked up my prick and fondled it a bit, then put it into his mouth. I became stiff under his ministrations. He opened his own trousers fly, (he wasn't wearing his cassock), and started to wank himself. He pulled his mouth off me and lifted my two legs up in the air with his rigt hand. With his othe hand, he guided his prick into my arsehole and pushed until he was all inside of me. It slid in nicely without any pain, but just felt a bit queer. At the same time he reached down and masturbated me. He came before me. I could feel him spurting up my rectum. The spunk dribbled out and down my arse cheeks. The priest kelt down and took me in his mouth and sucked me until I came. It felt delicious, his mouth was so smooth and warm.

The afternoon was quiet after that, and then I was un-strapped by a nice looking red haired woman. She wanted to make a wax model of my penis.

"I'm Marie, and I run the Art Classes here. We make candles for the church and as I haven't seen a penis for so long that I want to have something to remind me of what I was missing."

"Yes, I am happy for you to make a model of my cock, I am proud of my seven inches."

I spoke in execrable French.

I slid out of my cubicle and sat up on the plank in the washroom. Marie started to get me stiff by using her hand, and then she put her mouth down on me. She continued to suck until she felt my ball sack tighten, just prior to ejaculation.

I turned over onto my front so my cock hung down in the bowl. Marie pushed a container of nearly hot wax up to enclose all my genitals. She held it there for a minute. The heat was not too much at first but I had to ask her to take it off before I was cooked! Marie carefully pulled the wax container off my prick. Then she cooled down the wax by putting in a sink of cold water.

"That's my work done, now for some pleasure,"

She pulled off her knickers and came and sat on my lap. We kissed gently and let our tongues mingle. I could feel my prick resurrecting itself under her. She moved up and then slid down on it.

"This is good. I haven't had a fuck since I left my brute of a husband."

She moved slowly at first and then started to really bounce on me.

"Oh Yes, that's it I'm coming."

I didn't come even though I wanted to, so I picked her up, turned her onto the plank, with my prick still inside her. I really pummelled her hard until I came.

That exhausted me. I rested my head on her chest and caught my breath. That was the third time I had come that day or was it the fourth? More times than I had come in six months!!

Soon after Marie left, there came a flurry of women getting ready for dinner. Most didn't use me, but three did - probably the ones who had strapped me in. They plonked themselves down on my face and pissed straight off with no time for licking allowed. One had a small shit and the turd landed on my neck and fell off sideways.

Jeanne came up from her office and unstrapped me.

"You can get up now, your punishment has finished. Have a shower and come down for dinner".

I undressed out of my piss-laden shirt and pulled off my trousers. The water was nice and hot and all the shit and sweat of the day was washed away. I had a quiet dinner, with some of the women smiling at me and the others ignoring me. I didn't stay for liquor but went off to my bed.

I was woken by Jeanne, as I had slept through the morning bell. I sat down with her for my bread and coffee breakfast. As I was drinking it, a buxom young girl, obviously a peasant, came up to Jeanne and whispered in her ear. Jeanne looked at me and replied quietly.

"Yes, alright then, I'll bring him along in a minute." She turned to me and said

"You have one more duty to perform, come with me."

She took me into the big old kitchen and into a small larder room on the side. There, the young girl was waiting for us. She was leaning on a table with her drawers around her ankles. She was rubbing her cunt with a lewd smile on her face. As she saw me, she turned around, rested her arms on the table and pushed her bum out.

"Clare has simple needs, and normally the priest 'services' her on Sunday, but I believe he came to you yesterday? Well, you will have to take his place today."

"I would be happy to" I replied. Jeanne left us to it.

I pulled down my shorts and pants and rubbed my prick to get it stiff. I also dropped to my knees and licked up her thighs to her open cunt. It was very wet and I enjoyed pushing my face into it. My nose went into her arse hole which smelt a bit shitty, so I saw moved my head up and licked it clean. Then I stood up and pushed my cock into her juicy hole. It was easy fucking, and she soon cried as she came. I carried on, and she turned her head and pointed to her arse hole saying, in French,

"Come in my hole for shit".

So I pulled out of one hole and pushed into her other one. This was much tighter and I soon had an enjoyable orgasm. I sagged back from her and slipped out. Clare turned around and fell to her knees to take my limp dick in her mouth, licking and sucking it. What a service.

Jeanne came back in then and watched her for a few minutes. Then she lifted her dress and rubbed herself through her knickers.

"Come here Clare, and see to me, please."

Clare left me dangling, and walked on her knees to Jeanne, where she pushed her head between her open thighs to kiss her cotton panties, beffore reaching up to pull them down. She pushed her head right in and licked Jeanne's cunt - she had done it before.


"That's it, .... right there, .....harder .... harder " and spasmed with her coming.

We went back to her office and I colleted my panniers. Jeanne wrote down name my name, and my Cambridge address. She gave me a bottle of their liquor, carefully wrapped in paper, as a present 'for services rendered'.

"I am glad I was able to bring 'relief' to your abused women."

She walked me out to the outer door of the Convent. It seemed like a long time since I had gate-crashed into their way of life. I kissed her on both cheeks, as is the fashion in France.

I mounted my bike and went off, slowly and carefully down the hill.

Some months later, I received a letter from Marie, thanking me for my 'donation'. It appears that she made a bronze cast of my penis and more than one copy! One bronze penis had been secured to the washroom side of the toilets for the continuing 'relief' of the lonesome women. What a nice way to remember me.