Piggie Plumpkins encounters the Femcan Convent.
Episode 1
Plumpkins examined the worn metal seat of an old riding mower, carefully checking for sharp tacks or pins, sticky adhesives, smelly or staining liquids--all pranks he had previously been a victim of. Such was his lot as the butt of jokes by the gang of “mean girl” bullies at the Sister's of Sympathy Orphanage.
He cautiously climbed aboard, grasped the ignition key and turned it to engage the starter. Instead of the sound of the engine cranking over--a strong jolt of electricity raced up Plumpkins’ rump and through his arm to the hand on the key! Plumpkins jumped up a full foot above the mower and toppled off to land flat on his fat ass.
The girl gang had hardwired the starter circuit to the seat! Uproarious laughter filled the ears of Plumpkins as he sat upright with bewilderment. The heartless girls quickly surrounded him to serve up generous helpings of scorn, taunts and ridicule.
Even in Plumpkins’ very earliest memories, growing up at the orphanage, he could remember suffering all manner of indignities and humiliations at the hands of such bullying girls. The older and bigger ones could easily overpower him to inflict countless paunch pounding pink-bellies, agonizing indian-burns, titty twisting purple-nurples, ass stinging spankings, various violent pokes and vicious pinches. Even the orphanage’s youngest girls eagerly joined in the fun--their participation always being encouraged and enthusiastically coached by mentoring older bully girls, who happily held Plumpkins securely helpless for their proteges to gleefully torment.
There were no allies to defend him, the other boys at the facility wanted nothing to do with a fat weakling like Plumpkins--who couldn’t even defend himself from girls! Besides, they were far too busy with sports and other masculine activities well beyond Plumpkins’ feeble abilities, so Plumpkins was always left fending for himself.
And it was no use complaining to the nuns who ran the orphanage--the bully girls had already poisoned the staff’s attitude toward Plumpkins with outlandish lies, fictitious tales and untrue implications about him teasing and picking on the younger girls. Whenever Plumpkins approached the nuns to report his abusive treatment, they turned a deaf ear--and even scolded HIM for being such a bully!!!
Thus was Plumpkins’ life at the orphanage, and lately it had been even worse. The two oldest girls (and most creatively cruel of the bullies--they had always been the architects of his worst-most sufferings and torments) had recently been recruited to become novitiates at a strange and distant convent. This should have been welcome news, except that the bully girls had decided to celebrate by dealing poor Plumpkins a crescendo of cruelty prior to their departure.
The girl gang’s oppression of Plumpkins became even more emboldened and fiendish. The favorite trick of the older girls now was to swoop in from each side, and grab hard on his flabby “teats” to brutally twist the nipples full-round while savagely bending his arms up high behind his back. At their signal, the youngest of the bully girl proteges would rush in and forcefully kick her leg up--planting one of her shiny red patent-leather “Mary Jane” schoolgirl shoes squarely into his groin as her red plaid schoolgirl skirt fluttered prettily from the effort!
What all this meant is that Plumpkins had better recover from being shocked and pick his fat ass up off the ground in a hurry--before he found himself being kicked and/or trampled by a bevy of shiny red patent-leather “Mary Jane” schoolgirl shoes…
Too late--the girls had been in a huddle, and were now approaching Plumpkins with maliciously cruel grins on their faces…“Trampoline time, Plumpo!” The oldest one exclaimed and they all began bounding ever closer with elated leaps, chanting “Pounce on Plumpo! Pounce on Plumpo! Pounce on Plumpo!”
But just before their taunting trampolizment could commence, everyone stopped mid-lunge and watched as an unfamiliar vehicle appeared at the orphanage gate and was allowed to enter. It was a small bus, black with darkened windows. It proceeded to the parking lot where two strangely garbed nuns emerged and were greeted by several of the sisters on staff. Then the names of the two oldest bully girl gang members were called to the office over the PA.
The rest of the gang followed them to the office building and hung around outside on the porch looking dejected as their two friends went inside with the sisters and the strange nuns. It seemed Plumpkins had been forgotten due to the girl gang’s pending loss of leadership.
Well, he certainly wouldn’t lament seeing them go. They hardly seemed nun material, but then you never can tell--maybe joining a convent would do them both good and change them for the better…
Suddenly, the office door opened and the rest of the girls were invited inside. Soon they all reemerged with the nuns and were all smiles--happily laughing and chatting away like all was well. To Plumpkins’ surprise the entire girl gang piled into the black bus. The strange nuns then had a long conversation on the office porch with the orphanage sisters. They gestured broadly toward the landscape surrounding the orphanage and all the sisters nodded agreeably as they intently discussed their topic.
The next few weeks were an absolute breeze for Plumpkins. The strange nuns had taken every one of his tormentors away to become novitiates at their mysterious convent--apparently even the youngest were to be boarded there as postulants until they reached the proper age for induction.
Plumpkins was now looking forward to a quiet life, a rewarding career of working his way up the ranks of the grounds keeping staff. Then one day he was called into the orphanage office.
The Supervising Sister had Plumpkins sit before her desk and handed him an envelope. To his surprise, he found within a train ticket and expense funds. He gave her a puzzled look.
“Your services as Grounds Keeper have been requested at a very old and prestigious Convent, run by a very, very old and well established order of nuns.” the sister explained. “Our senior Grounds Keeper agrees you are more than ready, and has already given you a glowing recommendation.”
Another of the sisters gave Plumpkins a reassuring smile and said “They are offering you a generous salary, plus room and board--and they are offering our orphanage an extremely generous donation for our cooperation…”
The Supervising Sister gave Plumpkins a piercing look “You do want our orphanage to prosper, don’t you Plumpkins?”
Plumpkins was at a loss for words, but shrugged and nodded with a weak grin.
“Excellent!” The Supervising Sister gave him a patronizing smile. “It’s settled, then...”
And so it was that Plumpkins stepped off the train car onto the loading platform of a deserted and rundown train station, in an overgrown woodland, in a sparsely populated region of a remote section of North America. A flummoxed Plumpkins dropped his luggage and searched the facility in vain, finding no personnel--and most importantly, no further source of transportation. Was he supposed to walk the rest of the way to the convent? (Wherever the Hell it might be located--he’d been provided no directions, or even an address!)
A stab of panic pierced through Plumpkins when he heard the train pull out from the station. He rushed back to the platform only to witness it rapidly accelerating down the track, around the bend and out of sight. He was about to have a total meltdown right then and there, when he noticed a vaguely familiar looking vehicle parked on the opposite side of the tracks…
A black van with darkened windows was quietly idling upon a neglected looking gravel road. Two oddly garbed nuns stepped out and beckoned to him. “Mr. Plumpkins, your chariot awaits…” Having little choice at this point, Plumpkins swallowed any lingering trepidation, and luggage in hand, waddled his obese ass across the tracks.
In contrast to the modest woolen habits worn by the frumpy sisters at the orphanage, these shapely nuns wore glamorous looking shiny black leather. Their Schoolmarm like dresses had waists drawn tight by leather hourglass corsets and tall spike heeled boots poked from beneath long leather hobble skirts. Gracefully long leather gloves were topped by puffy leather blouse sleeves and atop their heads were what looked like elegantly stylized black leather chef hats. Their pale beauteous high cheekboned faces projected from black leather coifs, and were immaculately made up in way that could best be described as “glamour gothic”. And most unusually, in places where jewels would typically be, there were decorations and ornaments featuring wickedly sharp spikes. Small loosely coiled horse whips with metal spikes woven into the ends were dangling from belts on their hips.
They towered over Plumpkins, and smiled down at him ingratiatingly as they took his luggage. “Our sisterhood has been very much looking forward to meating you!” said one, through smacking lips. “We have heard so many delicious things about you…” the other added wryly, her mouth watering. They placed the luggage inside the van, bending down low to blatantly accentuate their curvaceous posteriors. There then seemed to be a whispered conversation among the occupants in the darkness, that included some quiet conspiratorial giggles.
Frankly, Plumpkins could hardly understand how the arrival of a mere Grounds Keeper could possibly be causing such a stir…
To Plumpkins’ surprise, the two nuns brought out and unfolded a sturdy looking wheelchair. They smiled apologetically and one explained “We are a bit crowded and short on seats inside--you won’t mind if we press this wheelchair into duty as your seat? We always keep it handy for various charity works and such…”
What could he say? Plumpkins shrugged and sat down to be wheeled into the van. Inside he found himself surrounded by a bevy of similarly leather-clad sisters, some who seemed quite young. The chair was secured in position and the door slid closed and solidly locked. Suddenly the surrounding sisters pounced--his nipples were mercilessly twisted, testicles were mercilessly squeezed and the stunned Plumpkins was rapidly immobilized by thick leather belts strapping his limbs securely into the wheelchair.
A terrifyingly familiar voice then whispered “Hello Plumpo--did you miss us?” Another familiar voice gleefully added “We are your welcoming committee to the The Daughters of Devourment Convent…”
To be continued…
