Recollections of a Governess - Part 3
I will now describe to you some of the convent scenes, which I should have thought incredible if I had not witnessed them myself.
The Superior, a lady of high rank about thirty-three years of age, and the principal Father Confessor of the Convent, had absolute and unlimited control over the nuns. The former was cruel, and the latter lascivious beyond measure.
In the building were some secret passages, very cleverly concealed, the keys to whose doors were in the hands of the Lady Superior.
At one time she had a sore foot, and was kept in bed for several days, attended by her favourite, Sister Constance, who succeeded sometimes in getting hold of the keys. Oh! the wonders I was to see!
I saw the Father Confessor sucking the breasts of a young nun, while she with her hand did him another favour, and I saw two nuns acting the part of husband and wife. I saw how a young novice, who for disobedience had been degraded to the kitchen, brought several times a day before the superior, and birched on some trifling pretext. I saw the Superior, in spite of the pain in her foot, make six youthful nuns strip naked, and walk around the room flogging each other's bottoms; how she afterwards took the rod herself and made each girl stand before her, while she whipped them severely, until streaks of blood appeared on the bottoms of some, the thighs of others, and even the backs, loins and calves of the ugliest.
I was not able to see the whippings which were inflicted in the underground cells, but judging from the shrieks of the victims, the punishments must have been terrible. After visiting these cells the Superior was always in a state of great excitement, and locked herself in her room with Sister Constance and the Father Confessor, who stayed for hours indulging in sensual pleasures of every conceivable kind.
By maintaining a most modest demeanour, all the other girls and nuns thought me most devout, and they were far from divining that beneath these appearances of piety and modesty I hid a heart that was full of precocious desires. I was lively and quick-witted, so that I soon learned how to play the piano, embroider and sew, with other kindred arts, such as are taught in convents.
My stepmother, in whose presence I acted the part of maidenly reserve, was obliged to be satisfied with me, and being very pious she requested me to frequent the confessional. I dared not refuse, but before entering the dark box, I consulted my sweet Constance, who told me what to say to the libertine priest. She told me that she would see the old wrinkled Father Confessor, and promised me that if I did as he wanted, he would render in such a favourable report about me that I should receive many privileges from the nuns, and first-class certificates when I left.
Trembling, I accepted, and the day of my communion arrived. I was dressed like a bride, all in white, and with a long veil over my face. I coughed affectedly, and put on the mock-modest airs of a young woman full of piety about to make the first steps towards the sanctuary of penitence and salvation. I approached the dreaded box, the curtain fell behind me, and I was in semi-darkness. It was very hot, and smelt like a goat's stable.
I knelt down, and my chin was on a level with a latticework partition. All I could see on the other side was the outline of a portly form, and two eyes sparkling in the dark like those of a cat.
The hot breath of a man, not over sweet, swept over my face, and I bent my head to avoid the pestilential breeze.
"Kiss it!" said a gruff voice, and I felt something soft protruding through the lattice-work that held by a trembling hand was rubbing against my forehead and eyes.
I started and drew back. What a fearful sight met my eyes! A man's thing, covered with yellow wrinkled skin, all flabby, and like a large limp sausage, was hanging through the lattice-work.
Surmounting my disgust, I imprinted a timid kiss on the end.
"Again!" said the thick hoarse voice.
This time I imprinted a rapid kiss on the side of the horrible serpent.
My two kisses had produced some effect evidently, as the skin drew back and disclosed a reddish-violet swollen head, like a huge chillblain. Round the base of the beetroot coloured knob, lay a deposit of what looked like cream. My whole stomach rose up.
"Put it in your mouth!"
"Never!" I could not help answering.
"Then I refuse you absolution!"
At this terrible threat I stammered out requests for pardon, and bending down, just placed the end between my lips, but the smell and bitter taste were awful, I retreated with tears in my eyes, murmuring -
"Oh, Father, I can't! I can't!"
Something like a chuckle proceeded from the interior of the box, and the gruesome instrument, the orifice of which looked like a blind mocking eye-socket, was drawn from my gaze.
I breathed for an instant, but my relief was of brief duration, as the thing appeared again, but this time shapeless and monstrous, hidden as it was beneath a thick layer of some sticky stuff.
"Now suck it!" uttered the voice, and I could hear the old man panting with desire.
Horrified, I approached my mouth, and found that the vile blasphemous wretch had dipped it in a jam-pot!
Trembling all over I crushed the horrible morsel in my mouth, when it rose up and stiffened, filling up my jaws, that began to ache, while it seemed as if it would split the corners of my fresh little button-hole of a mouth. I felt crook-like fingers press down my head, and the dreadful monster pushed itself in and out of my mouth. I could not swallow the horrid jam and bitter drops of liquor distilled themselves from the hole in the knob.
I felt fearfully sick, my hot saliva ran from my mouth, and all the jam being now gone, I could taste nothing but the horrible faint-smelling bitterness of the unwashed sausage that was rubbing against my tonsils.
All of a sudden it swelled up stiffly, and I felt a kind of pulse that throbbed violently inside, then two or three drops of sticky slimy matter shot themselves into my mouth, tasting of dirty dish-clout washings, and smelling most strongly. I tried to draw away, but the terrible hand held me tight, and a perfect flood of the same stuff, but hotter, stronger and more stinking than ever, shot into my mouth, down my throat, choking up my tonsils, and bubbling out of the corners of my mouth.
I slobbered, spit, and sobbed as my head was released, leaving me with an inclination to vomit, aching jaws, and a sore at each corner of the mouth that it took days to heal.
When I left the convent I was accomplished for my profession, but so thoroughly demoralized that I stayed in no situation where I was not allowed to flog the children.
