adept in the art of procuring sexual enjoyment.

One day I discovered further evidence of the great morality pervading
in Mount de Sales. The Lady Abbess was a handsome, fine-looking woman
of about forty years of age. She was very strict with all the boarders
of the convent, except with two sisters named Emily and Fannie Dawson.
These two girls were her pets and were always with her. They were both
beautiful girls, with flashing dark eyes and beautiful complexions. On
the day I refer to, Margaret Maitland came to me and whispered in my
ear that if I would come with her she would show me a pretty sight. I
followed and she led me to the Lady Abbess's room and told me to peep
through the keyhole. I did so and saw a very strange scene which I will
endeavor to describe to you.

Seated on a low chair near a large sofa was Father Price. His
pantaloons were down and the lower portion of his body all uncovered;
his instrument of love stood stiff and erect. Seated sideways towards
him on the sofa I have just referred to, was the Lady Abbess. Her dress
was off her shoulders, revealing her well-developed bust. The lower
portion of her body was entirely naked; one of her feet rested on an
ottoman, the other on the ground; by this means one of her thighs was
elevated. Father Price had one finger in her lustful slit, while she
had grasped his staff in her hand. He was slowly pushing his finger in
and out of her warm nest, and every now and then kissing her broad
white buttocks which were entirely at his command. But this was not
all; Emily and Fannie Dawson were also there, acting their parts. Emily
stood on the sofa with her petticoats raised above her naval, thus
revealing her delicious thighs, her white belly and the moss-covered
domain of Venus. She was exquisitely made. The Lady Abbess was
titillating her clitoris with her unoccupied hand, while Emily's
excited face, the tip of her tongue slightly protruding from her coral
lips and the heaves of her alabaster buttocks rising to meet the
Abbess's deflowering finger, sufficiently showed the intense delights
she was enjoying. Fannie was at the other end of the sofa. She had her
back turned towards Father Price; she knelt on the sofa with one knee,
while the other leg rested on the ground; her skirts were thrown over
her head, and her head was buried in the sofa, thus elevating her white
bottom in the air. Between her ivory thighs we could see the panting
lips of her luscious bijou.