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From: moh2@rainbow.uchicago.edu (Kateri/Mary Anne)
Subject: STORY: The Temptation (nc,mf,ff,s/m,religious) (9000 words)
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Ah, I am tempted to fill this space with disclaimers.  Long paragraphs
of them.  Instead, I will briefly ask you to keep in mind that a) this
was written on assignment -- 9000 words of erotic horror; b) this was
written under time pressure; and c) despite the blasphemy, etc. in
this piece, no disrespect was meant to the Catholic church.  I do 
think that it is possible to read this as a redemptive piece, in 
fact...if you work at it.

If you are deeply Catholic, you may find this story very disturbing,
and I suggest you think carefully before reading it.

If Celeste reviews this, I would appreciate being e-mailed a copy. -
Mary Anne

*****

THE TEMPTATION

San Francisco, 1958

Chapter 1

	It was dark in the small cell, dark and silent.  Deep in the heart
of the building, this windowless room was well-muffled from the city
street noises.  Outside in the dry heat of a San Francisco summer night,
voices were raised in anger and laughter.  An occasional slap and thud
marked a body hitting a floor, and if you listened carefully, you could
hear the hookers negotiating with their johns.  The convent wasn't in the
best part of town, but the young woman in the bed heard nothing of those
sounds, lost in her own thoughts.  She shifted restlessly on the bed, the
coarse fabric of her nightgown rubbing against tender skin.  Soon the
silence was broken by a low moan, then another, and her hands clenched
convulsively, compulsively at her sides, as if she were willing them not
to move elsewhere.  But she willed nothing consciously, for Sister Maria
Estrella Gonzalez was dreaming, and despite their erotic subject, they
were not pleasant dreams.

	She floats deep beneath the sea, naked and shivering, while
tentacles of seaweed brush against her hips and breasts.  Small fishes
with feathered fins surround her, jewels of color pressing against each
unprotected inch of skin.  Slow flute song echoes through the sea, sad and
lonely, aching with longing, as if a mermaid wept for her lost love.  A
sudden rush of warm water surges between her thighs and she convulses, her
mouth twisting silently in a whispered, repeated, "no...".

	The scene shifts, and Sister Maria stands on a ledge within a
fiery volcano, watching the burning fluids rise, lapping against the rock
walls, bubbling and hissing. The heat surrounds her, enveloping every inch
of her body, reaching deep within.  She knows that it will not be long
before the lava rises high enough to engulf her completely, to drag her
down into the flames.

	Shift again, and she is blinded, while soft lips press against
hers, and smooth hands slide between her thighs, both silently urging her
to open.  Maria moans, but clenches her mouth tightly shut.  Some part of
her remembers her vow of chastity, even in dream, and she resists.  In
that solitary room in the world, she bites through her lip, drawing blood,
but does not wake.  The two hands tormenting her are joined by other
hands, four, six, eight, until she cannot count how many hands caress her
back, or squeeze her buttocks, or massage her thighs, or gently pinch her
nipples.  Tongues and teeth proliferate as well, at her ear, her neck, her
lips, her throat, always persuading, never violent, yet insistent.  Her
whispered rejections become more audible, until she is pleading with the
invisible strangers, but they take no notice, continuing the assault on
her treacherously weakening body.

	When Sister Maria finally wakes, it is to the ringing of the
convent bells summoning her to prayers, and she feels as if she has not
slept at all.

Chapter Two

	"Bless me, Father Josˇ, for I have sinned."  She has chosen the
old-style confessional, with its heavy screen between priest and penitent.
She is not brave enough to face him with these sins.

	"What are your sins, my child?"

	"I have had...carnal thoughts."

	"Describe them to me, in detail please."  The priest's voice is
firm, commanding.  Two years in the convent have conditioned her to obey.
Sister Maria slowly describes her dreams.

	"In the dreams, I am very aware of my body.  Of my lips and neck
and breasts..."

	"Go on, Sister.  I must know exactly what you have done before I
can counsel you."

	Maria takes a deep breath before continuing, "...of my thighs and
buttocks...and of my vagina and clitoris.  It throbs, Father, so badly
that when I wake I want desperately to touch it, to relieve the aching..."

	"You know you mustn't, Sister.  Remember your vow.  What else?"

	"Sometimes I dream of my past, of the men who used my body, of the
pleasant ones, the ones that felt good.  Sometimes I remember the gentle
way they'd slide into me, or the way they'd want to kiss me.  I hated to
say no, but you couldn't get to liking them too much..."

	"What did you do in the dreams, Sister?"

	"I-I touched them, Father.  When they tried to kiss me, I kissed
them instead -- kissed their penises."  She blushes as the explicit words
fall from her lips, passing through the grate and into the unseen priest's
ears.  She pauses for a moment, hoping for respite, but there is none.
"I'd suck on their scrotums and slide my tongue up and down their cocks,
circling the head.  If we were in a motel instead of an alley, sometimes
we'd do a sixty-nine, and their tongues would be inside my vagina, and
their mouth would be sucking on my clit, and it would be so good, so
sweet..."

	"...or sometimes I 'd remember when the other girls and I would
get together after a long night, just cuddling at first, but then Stasha's
little breasts would be peeking out of that almost nothing she wore, so it
seemed natural to lean over and give them a kiss, and maybe Yvonne's hand
was resting on my thigh and she'd slide it up and under my skirt -- we
hardly ever wore panties -- and just slide it in and out of my clit, so
nice and wet..."

	"...It wouldn't be long before we were all naked on my carpet,
sliding along and kissing every spot that a man had touched earlier,
erasing all the bad parts and making the good parts even better."

	"Sister!  Am I to understand that you engaged in homosexual
activity with these prostitutes?  You know that is strictly proscribed..."

	Sister Maria flushed.  "I know what the Church teaches, but I
can't feel it was wrong.  We were so close.  I miss that sometimes,
Father.  I miss the touching and caresses and the kisses and the warm,
sweet woman scent and salty taste -- I miss the men too, with their hairy
chests and thick penises -- oh, Father.  Even when I'm awake, I think
about it all the time.  It never used to be this bad!  I don't know if I'm
strong enough to hold to my vows!"

	The priest spoke sternly.  "It is not for you to question the
wisdom of the Church, my child.  The holy laws are handed down by God and
interpreted by wise men in Rome -- this is too difficult a task for a
woman's weak mind.  Your mind is already contaminated with these sinfully
lecherous thoughts.  These thoughts are not conducive to your vow of
chastity, Sister.  You should meditate on them, consider every aspect of
these dreams and try to discover from what corner of your soul they are
emerging.  Perhaps the convent is not the place for you...especially
considering your past, and the sinful uses to which you put your body, the
Lord's temple."

	Sister Maria spoke, her words spilling out, "Oh, no father!  This
is my home, this is where I must be.  I can't go back to my old life.
Please, any penance..."

	"Well, perhaps we should try something slightly old-fashioned.
Sister, I want you to wear a hair shirt beneath your habit, and nothing
else.  That will make you conscious of the sins to which your body can
lead you.  Along with your meditations, you must say the rosary beneath
your breath as you work, and you must bathe five times daily, to cleanse
yourself of these impure thoughts."

	"Yes, Father."  Sister Maria spoke eagerly, glad to have something
active that she could do to help ward off the sensual thoughts and dreams.
She sometimes missed the old days, but she had made her choice, and
pledged herself to Christ.  Father Josˇ was right -- she needed to give
her conscience over to the keeping of the priests.  That was their job,
after all.  Her place was simply to obey.

	"Now say your Act of Contrition."

	Sister Maria obediently recited the words, taking comfort in their
familiarity, "O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and
I detest all my sins because of Thy just punishments, but most of all
because they offend Thee, my God, Who art all-good and deserving of all my
love.  I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to sin no more and to
avoid the near occasions of sin.  Amen."

	"Go in peace, my child."  Sister Maria rose, and left the church,
murmuring the first prayer of the rosary beneath her breath.  "Our Father,
who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.  Thy kingdom come, thy will be
done, on earth as it is in heaven...give us this day our daily bread, and
forgive us our trespasses..."

Chapter Three

	Father Josˇ sighed wearily.  The grey-habited woman kneeling
between his knees raised her head, licking her damp lips.  "A problem,
Father?"

	"She is such an innocent.  Such boring little dreams and fantasies
-- hardly sins at all.  I grow weary of the little weaknesses of the good.
Such sweetness and light.  She only dreams of kindness and gentleness and
pleasure.  Where are the abused children, where is the pain, where is the
true anguish?!"

	"Have patience, Father.  Mother thinks she has promise, though
more for suffering pain than inflicting it.  Once she truly abandons her
God, she'll be clay in the devil's hands.  The incubus has only just
started to work on her, you know.  By the time it finishes with her,
she'll be fucking dogs and babies and screaming with pleasure at the touch
of the whip.  Even better -- she'll feel guilty about every moment."  The
woman smiled wickedly.

	"I suppose that's true.  Ah well, at least I have you to distract
me..."  Taking her cue, the woman bent again to her task, moving the
priest's robe further up and out of the way so she could better slide her
mouth down his thick, somewhat hairy shaft.  At first she simply circled
the head with her tongue, gently licking the reddish-purple skin.  Then
she began to suck the head, softly, then harder.  Then the woman licked
long lines down the shaft, up and down, over and over.  Soon her entire
mouth engulfed the priest's cock, sliding fast and hard down to the base,
sucking it down her throat.  

	Father Josˇ moaned quietly, as she wrapped long fingers around the
base, and cupped his balls with her other hand.  His hands rested on her
head, and his hips rocked with her movements, as she slid up and down,
faster and faster.  As he was just about to come, she sank her sharp nails
into the tender juncture between hip and crotch, drawing blood.  Then with
one final stroke, she pulled away as his semen spurted onto her grey
habit.

Chapter Four

	Maria sat naked on the tile floor of the shower, her knees pulled
up to her chest.  A wave of sexual energy had just, suddenly passed
through her as she stepped into the shower, coming out of nowhere and
leaving her legs trembling and her cunt moist.  She had sank to the floor
under a stream of warm water, and now sat there hugging her knees, trying
to regain some control of her mind and body.  These thoughts had become
more frequent, rather than less, in the weeks since Father Josˇ had told
her to start wearing the hair shirt and bathing more frequently.  She had
felt so very conscious of her body, and somehow, no matter how hard she
tried, she had been unable to simple turn her thoughts to God.

	She had tried praying to Mary, "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord
is with you!  Blessed are you among all women, and blessed is the fruit of
your loins," but somehow at the word 'loins', she always felt a flush of
heat move through her own loins.  And as the lust grew stronger, it seemed
less and less likely that the virtuous Virgin Mary would understand her
dilemma.  Even Jesus had only been tempted for forty days and nights -- it
felt as if she'd been undergoing this torment for months, at least.  So
now she simply stared at the walls of the shower and tried to empty her
mind of thought.

	The walls were built of white stucco.  The Sisters had kept it
bright with hours of scrubbing, but the convent was old, and the walls
(thin to begin with) had been worn down over the years.  The wall at which
Maria gazed was pocked with tiny holes.  On impulse, she moved over to the
wall and put her eye to one of the holes.  She had a clear view of the
empty shower stall through the wall.  She was about to pull away and
return to her own shower, when a blonde cunt came into her view.  After a
shocked moment, Maria realized that the hole was at exactly the same level
as the anonymous nun's cunt in the next shower.  

	Sister Maria wasn't sure who was there -- most of the sisters had
dark hair, but there were three blondes in the convent.  It could be
Sister Clara or Sister Beatriz.  Sister Joan was also blonde but fairly
heavy, and the cunt in the next shower was attached to rather shapely
legs.  Sister Maria found that by shifting around to other nearby holes,
she could see much of the nun's body, though nothing above her neck.
For some odd reason, the holes didn't extend that high.

	The nun's body was small and trim, with small, firm breasts and
tiny nipples.  She was perhaps a little too thin, which led Maria to think
that it might be Sister Beatriz, who was given to fasts and purgings.  The
nun, whoever it was, reached out and turned on the water.  A muffled
shriek escaped her as the water came on -- it was always cold at first,
taking time to warm up.  The sound was just a little too short and sharp
for Maria to identify the unknown woman.

	Soon the anonymous blonde was entirely wet, and had begun to soap
herself with the rather harsh brown soap the nuns made themselves.  Her
hands moved over her body, starting at the neck and working their way
slowly down, over collarbone and shoulderblade, down the tops of the arms
to her thin hands and back up underneath her arms, pausing to soap her
armpits.  Then her hands moved to her breasts, and Maria's breath
quickened.  The nun was very thorough with her breasts, rubbing them
firmly with the harsh soap, lingering perhaps a little long on the tiny
pink nipples before moving the soap down her ribcage and across her
stomach.  Maria's hands moved unconsciously to her own breasts, under the
pounding water.

	She then reached behind her and soaped what she could reach of her
back.  She had turned, and Maria could see a spot in the upper center of
her back that had escaped the nun's reach.  Maria couldn't help wishing
she could step into the adjoining stall -- just for a moment, to help.
The nun went on, her hands sliding down her lower back to her slightly
rounded buttocks, rubbing and kneading.  She did her thighs and then
leaned over to do her calves, and it was then that Maria's guess was
confirmed -- it was indeed Sister Beatriz.  Sister Maria grew more
aroused; Beatriz was lovely, in a rather stark, anorexic way, and Maria
had occasionally woken from dreams of her.  One of Sister Maria's hands
had wandered down to her cunt, and a finger was sliding in and out, almost
absent-mindedly.  Then two fingers...

	Beatriz carefully soaped her calves and feet, then moved the soap
back up her legs, pausing to soap her pubic hair.  Then she stepped back
under the full force of the falling water and all the soap was sluiced
away.  She turned off the water, quickly, and stepped out of the shower,
out of Maria's view.  Sister Maria suddenly realized what she was doing --
she had watched one of the Sisters showering, and masturbated while she
was doing so!  Sister Maria stifled a sob, realizing that she had now
broken her vow in full daylight -- she no longer had the feeble excuse of
being at the mercy of her dreams.  She sprang to her feet and began
scrubbing furiously at her own body, trying to rub away the clammy
sensation that had crept across her skin.

Chapter Five

	The classroom wavered for a moment in Sister Maria's view, as
another surge of lust hit her.  She bit her lip, pushing it back down as
she struggled to concentrate.  The students were filing in, fifteen and
sixteen year old Catholic school girls in their blue plaid uniforms, with
crisp white shirts.  Quite a few of them were wearing those skirts very
short, and they had unbuttoned their shirts far enough down that the swell
of their breasts was clearly visible.  Sister Maria remembered that she
had done the same in her own Catholic school girl days, and wondered how
many of these sweet girls would end up hustling on the street like she
had.  

	How many of them would spend their nights in tight red miniskirts
and black lace tank tops, trying not to shiver in the cold, trying to be
seductive and sexy enough to convince a stranger he wanted a $5 blow job?
She wondered how many would be bright enough to insist on condoms as they
were being fucked doggy style in a deserted stretch of alley, or slammed
up against a wall.  It had been a miserable time in her life, but somehow,
watching these fresh-faced girls and imagining them in her place, she
suddenly, desperately wanted to be back there again.  It had been
dangerous, sometimes painful, but she had at least known she was alive.
Not like the peace of the convent with its grey walls and grey habits and
quiet voices.  The nights back then had been filled with grunts of
pleasure, not quiet whispered prayers.

	Maria struggled to wrench her mind back to class.  They were all
sitting demurely in their seats now, waiting patiently for her to start,
looking a little confused as she continued to sit there.

	"Open your books to page 37.  We're doing love poetry today."  The
girls giggled, as she had known they would.  "Catharine, why don't you
read today?"  Sister Maria didn't know why she had picked Catharine.  She
read well, very dramatically, but there was something a little too
insolent, too sexual about that particular sixteen-year-old.  Maria
usually avoided calling on her, but today, she just wanted to hear that
sultry voice.  She knew Catharine would read the poems better than any of
the other girls -- and Maria didn't trust herself to read them without
becoming lost in the sensual words.  

	"What do you want me to read, Sister?  Some Marvell?  'Now let us
sport us while we may, / And now, like amorous birds of prey, / Rather at
once our time devour / Than languish in his slow-chapped power....'"

	"No, dear.  A later poet, I think.  Perhaps a woman..."

	"Emily Dickinson, then?  'Wild Nights-Wild Nights! / Were I with
thee / Wild Nights should be / Our luxury!'"  Catharine gazed steadily at
Sister Maria as she read, and Maria felt her hold on the class slipping
away.  "Or maybe someone even more recent?  'Coming together / it is
easier to work / after our bodies / meet / paper and pen / neither care
nor profit / whether we write or not / but as your body moves / under my
hands / charged and waiting / we cut the leash / you create me against
your thighs / hilly with images / moving through our word countries
my body / writes into your flesh...'"

	"Enough of that, Catharine.  Poetry is a little dizzying, don't
you think?  Why don't we read some prose instead?"  Sister Maria wiped the
sweat away from her brow, wondering why the room felt so warm.  Some nice
safe prose -- that would be better.

	"Of course, Sister.  IÕve been reading Joyce..."  Catharine
reached into her bag and picked up a thick book.  She skipped to the last
pages, "and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson
sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the
Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and pink and blue and
yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and
cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes
when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I
wear a red yes...'" 

	Her voice was rising and falling now with the words, passion
echoing in the small room.  "'...and how he kissed me under the Moorish
wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with
my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my
mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down
Jo me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going
like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.'"  She stopped and closed the
book, smiling.

	Maria shook herself from the trance she had fallen into,
uncomfortably aware of the dampness between her thighs and the hardness of
her nipples against the coarseness of the thin hair shirt.  "Yes, dear.
Very good.  I'm glad you enjoyed your Joyce.  You can stop now."  Maria
felt very dizzy, and had to brace herself against the desk.  "Girls, I'm
not feeling very well.  I'm going to end class a little early today.  You
can go ahead to lunch.  Read the next chapter for tomorrow's class."

	"Yes, Sister Maria," they chorused together.  As the room filled
with the rustle of books being closed and the chatter of teen voices,
Maria closed her eyes for just a moment.  When she opened them again, the
room had emptied -- or almost emptied.  Sitting in her front row seat was
Catharine still, gazing steadily at her.  "Yes, Catharine?  Can I help you
with something?"

	"Sister Maria, I need your advice."  Catharine crossed her legs,
and Maria couldn't help noticing the way the short skirt slid even higher
up her legs, almost revealing her panties.

	"What can I help you with, dear?"

	"I think I want to be a nun."  Catharine leaned forward in her
desk, and her blouse gaped open.  Maria had a clear view of a black lace
bra, and two firm young breasts.  She took a deep breath before answering.

	"Well, it's a difficult choice to make, especially for someone so
young.  There's a lot you have to give up, though of course, the rewards
are also great."  Catharine was absent-mindedly rubbing the skin at her
throat, making tiny circles with two fingers.  The girl shifted a little
in her seat, so that for a moment her skirt rode even higher.  Maria
stifled a gasp when she realized Catharine wasn't wearing any panties.

	"But Sister, what would I have to give up?  It sounds so
wonderful, spending my days in the convent praising God, surrounded by the
other Sisters and you..."  Catharine shifted again, uncrossing her legs
and separating them slightly.  Maria was sure the innocent young girl had
no idea that she was now giving the nun a very clear view of her cunt,
framed by fiery red pubic hair.

	"Well, probably the hardest vow for a young girl is the vow of
chastity.  To give up all possibility of...carnal pleasures, without ever
having tasted them.  You'd never know the sweetness of your first kiss, of
someone's hands on your body..." Catharine's hand had slipped lower,
unconsciously, and her fingers were now tracing light circles over her
raised nippple.  Maria took a deep breath and continued, "...of a night in
a lover's arms, of your first real man..."

	"...or woman, Sister?"  Catharine stood now, and walked over to
Sister Maria's chair, standing so close that Maria could smell the girl's
arousal.  "But Sister, what makes you think I haven't had any of that?
Maybe I know exactly what I'd be giving up...and maybe I wouldn't really
have to give it all up, hmmm?"  She was leaning so close now that if Maria
just leaned forward  a little, she could take the young girl's nipple in
her mouth, could wrap her hands around that tight little ass and drag her
closer, could slide her legs around one of Catharine's, pressing her clit
hard against that firm young flesh...

	Maria gasped and jumped back, knocking over her chair in her
haste, shocked that she'd been thinking of taking advantage of this sweet
young girl, one of her own students, under her protection.  Her face was
flaming red was shame as she stammered, "I-I-I don't think you understand
the seriousness of a commitment to God, Catharine.  I think you should
think about this decision some more..."  She hastily gathered her papers
and stumbled out of the room, trying not to listen as Catharine called
after her, "Maybe we could discuss it again next week, Sister?"

Chapter Six

	The new dream always started on that night so long ago, that night
in the street.

	Maria stood in a shadowed doorway, dressed in torn cut-offs and a
thin red tank top.  She didn't like to stand out on the street corners --
that was a good way to get snagged by the cops.  She preferred to watch
the johns as they walked by, choosing the ones that looked not too scuzzy
and not too mean.  Broadway usually  had pretty good pickings, especially
on a hot summer night like this one.  She had done two blow jobs so far
tonight, and had only been out a half hour.  Looked like it was going to
be a good night.

	Sweat trickled down her neck and into the valley between her
breasts.  She had wiped it away at first, but the guys seemed to like it.
A couple of her regulars liked to fuck her between her large breasts,
sliding in the sweat, spurting up onto her face.  She didn't mind, as long
as they didn't expect her to lick it all off.  She was always careful not
to swallow any jism.  Stasha said that you couldn't get any diseases that
way, but Rosie and Yvonne thought you could, and Maria wasn't going to
take chances with.  She had gotten where she was by playing it safe, and
planned to continue that way.

	She suddenly snapped out of her daydream, as a hot number walked
by.  Not too muscle-bound, swimmer's build, dark hair and eyes, just the
kind she liked.  White t-shirt and blue jeans -- an all-American boy.
Very nice.  "Hey, mister!  Looking for some company?"

	He paused and turned, stepping towards her so he could see her
better.  Maria stepped out of the doorway and took a deep breath, so he
could properly appreciate her large breasts.  "Nice," he said.  "How
much?"

	"What do you want me to do?"

	"Hmmm....I'm not sure.  If I wanted to leave it open, how much for
that?"

	"Well, I don't usually work that way..."

	"Look, I got lucky at a friend's poker game tonight -- I'd like to
celebrate.  Hey, I can afford it."  He pulled out a black leather wallet
and opened it for her.  It was stuffed with $10's and $20's.  Maria took a
deep breath.  There was more than enough cash in there that she wouldn't
have to work for a couple of months.  Maybe she could even pay off the
last of her debts to that junky loan shark on Valencia, and go back to
college and get her English degree.

 	"Okay, sure."

	"Whatever I like?"  He sounded almost pathetically eager, and
Maria grinned.

	"Yup, whatever you like.  You wanna go to a motel or..."  Before
she could finish the sentence he was on her, hustling her into an alley
nearby, then slamming her against the brick wall of a building.  He
unzipped the jeans and had his cock out faster than she could believe.
'Okay,' she thought, 'he's in a hurry, I can handle that.  Get him off
quick, and then we can slow down...' but when she reached down to jerk him
off, he growled and flung her around.  He yanked her shorts down and tore
off her shirt.  

	"Hey!  You're gonna have to pay for that..." she started to
protest, and he slammed a fist into her cheek.  "Shut up, bitch.  This is
what I like and I'm paying for whatever I like tonight."  Maria was dizzy
with the pain from the punch, and so caught off-guard that she didn't
protest when he tore off her panties and thrust his cock into her dry
pussy.  She didn't dare to mention a condom, not with his fingers digging
like claws into her shoulders.

	It wasn't long, maybe ten or twenty thrusts before he came, and
Maria started to straighten, thinking maybe it was time to renegotiate.
But he was still hard inside her, and instead of pulling out, he just
shoved her onto hands and knees in the muck of the alley to fuck her again
>from behind, harder and longer this time.  By the time he finished, Maria
was painfully sore, and she was pretty sure there was broken glass cutting
into her knees.  Her breasts were hanging down into the slime and she
couldn't help thinking how much she was going to like a shower when this
was over.

	Then he pulled out...and slammed right back in, into her ass.
Maria let out a scream then, as he tore a path into her, and then she knew
she was bleeding, and knew he didn't care and at this point all she wanted
was to get home alive.  He threw a punch into her side, knocking the air
out of her.  She endured then, for an endless time, until he finally came
again.  He pulled out, and shoved her down so she was lying flat on the
asphalt.  Then he rolled her over and punched her other cheek, so that
both lay open and bleeding.  He paused for a moment, as if to admire what
he'd done -- taken her sweet golden body and turned it into a filthy
bleeding mass.  Then he pulled out a knife, and Maria was truly terrified.

	It must have shown in her eyes, because he laughed.  "Just
something to remember me by, honey."  Then he grabbed her wrist and cut a
small 'x' into the flesh of her arm -- deep enough that it would scar, but
not deep enough to ensure she bled to death.  She screamed again at the
cutting, but it was as if she were alone in the night -- nobody came
running, and even if someone might have, she had the peculiar feeling that
there was some sort of barrier separating the alley from the rest of the
world -- she couldn't hear any street noises.  Maybe that was the shock,
though.  She was getting very cold, despite the August heat.  She curled
into a little shivering ball.

	He stood up then, and opened his wallet.  Little fluttering green
bills came down to rest on her body.  "Don't even think about complaining,
little girl.  Most whores deal with this sort of thing every week."  Then
he turned and walked away, and Maria couldn't even tell him that she knew
that, or ask how he knew that she hadn't had to deal with it.

	That night was the first bad one -- there were a lot of them after
that.  It wasn't much longer before she took all her money and went to the
convent, appearing on their steps dirty and bleeding in the middle of the
night, begging them to take her in.  They took away her money and cleaned
her up, put her in a nice grey habit and took her vows.  She hadn't ever
regretted it until the sexual dreams had started.  They had started out
simple, but they were getting worse and worse.  She was dreaming of things
she couldn't believe existed -- things that she knew were coming out of
the depths of her own soul.  She had never thought her soul could be so
filthy.

	One started now, shifting right from a reenactment of that
horrible night.  Now he was fucking her, that same man with the dark eyes
and hair, but this time she was enjoying it, she was begging him for more,
she moaned with pleasure when he hit her and cut her.  If she blinked, he
turned into her father, or his sister's 10-yr-old son.  And Maria knew
that this wasn't real, this wasn't her, but the dream seemed so real.
Every night the dream was a little more brutal -- and she enjoyed it a
little more.  Finally, one night, Sister Maria woke to find she had
somehow managed to not just finger herself in her sleep -- but to actually
shove her entire fist inside herself.  She woke orgasming wildldy, and
with her body scraped raw by the hair shirt she wore even in bed.  She
knew that her penance wasn't working.  It was time to go back to
confession.

Chapter Seven

	 Sister Maria's teeth chattered slightly as she paused before the
door of the Mother Superior's chambers.  She had always been terrified of
the Mother Superior, ever since she first entered the convent.  That tall,
thin figure in severe black had frowned at the make-up she had forgotten
to wash off her face, and Maria had been ready to run right back out the
door.  She had managed to avoid the Mother Superior almost entirely since
then, but now she had no choice -- she had to face her.  Her confessor had
told her to.

	Maria had stumbled into the confessional almost in tears the
previous day, after a night of the tormenting dreams.  She had sobbed out
her confession to the priest, holding back nothing -- her lustful thoughts
throughout the day, her sinful desire for the redhead Catharine, the way
she woke up to find her fingers damp and wrinkled between her
thighs...when she had finished, the priest had sounded truly shocked as he
ordered her to report to the Mother Superior for chastisement.

	So Maria gathered up her courage and knocked on the door.  It
swung open, and she stepped into the austere room.  It was almost bare,
with a few simple pieces of furniture and a large dark crucifix on the
wall.  The Mother stood facing the window, idly swinging a ruler in her
hand.  She did not turn as Maria stepped in, only asking, "Sister Maria?"

	"Yes, Mother."
	
	"Shut the door."

	Maria carefully shut the door, then waited for instructions.  The
priest had said that he would communicate to the Mother the full details
of her transgression, so Maria had only to wait for her punishment.  An
endless tie passed before the Mother spoke, and Maria shivered in the
draft from the window.

	"Remove your habit, daughter."  The Mother's voice was cold,
remote.  Maria hesitated a moment, then obeyed.  Obedience was one of the
highest rules of the order -- if the Mother commanded, Sister Maria had no
choice but to obey.  She slowly raised the grey habit over her head and
removed it.  She then folded it neatly and laid it on a table nearby.

	"The hair shirt as well.  And your shoes."

	Maria removed the shirt and shoes as well, leaving her naked and
trembling.

	"Do you see the bars on the wall?  Take hold of them.  Firmly."

	Maria looked around the room, confused for a moment.  Then she
realized that to either side of the arms of the cross were large iron
bars.  To take hold of them, she'd have to practically embrace the figure
of Christ on the crucifix, pressing her body flat against Him.  She
couldn't believe for a moment that this was what the Mother had meant --
but then she realized that this merely signified the depth of her crime --
that she would have to face her Savior during every moment of punishment.
She slowly stepped forward and took hold of the bars, pressing her slim
body against the cross.

	Behind her, Sister Maria could hear the almost silent footsteps of
the Mother crossing the room.  Sooner than she'd expected, the ruler fell,
crack! against her rounded buttocks.  She jumped, involuntarily, her hips
pressing against those of Christ.  Maria had resolved to bear her
punishment bravely, but tears welled up in her eyes at the humiliation.
Then the Mother began to speak, and Sister Maria's shame mounted.

	"Slut.  Whore.  Shameless bitch.  No control.  A slave to your
arousal.  A slave to your weak body.  We should never have taken you in.
We should have left you on the street, peddling your battered, soiled body
to the scum of the earth.  Dirty.  Disgusting.  You bring shame on this
convent.  You bring shame on the Church.  Wicked.  Sinner.  You must
atone.  You must atone!"

	With each word, each phrase, the ruler fell, burning red lines of
fire across Maria's back and buttocks and thighs.  The tears were falling
freely down Maria's face at this time, sobs racking her body and she
almost welcomed the pain -- it was better than the shame of the Mother's
angry words.  After an endless time of pain the ruler broke -- the Mother
simply went to her desk and removed another, larger ruler -- this one of
metal.  The blows mounted in speed and intensity, and Maria was further
shamed to realize that she was wet and dripping, as her hips ground into
those of the Lord and her breasts rubbed against His chest.  

	"Do you repent your sins?  Are you sorry?  Do you admit that you
are a discarded nothing, a sorry excuse for a nun, not worthy to kiss the
Lord's feet, much less be a bride of Christ?  Do you repent?  Do you
repent?!"  Harder and harder, faster and faster, until Maria was
screaming, "yes, yes, anything, Mother, please, yes, I'm sorry, I'm a
worthless slut, please, forgive me, please oh please..."

	Suddenly the Mother stopped and dropped the bloody ruler onto her
desk.  "Come to me, my child."  Maria let go of the metal bars, pulled
herself away from the crucifix and hurled herself at the Mother's feet,
whimpering in pain and remorse.  The Mother gently stroked her hair, and
lifted her up.  "There, there, child.  You are forgiven.  There, there."
Maria buried her head in the Mother's breast, trembling in her embrace.
She could smell the Mother's faint scent, and feel her softness against
her battered body.  Unconsciously, Maria shifted a little in the Mother's
arms, pressing her hips against the Mother.

	"What?!  Not cured yet??!"  The Mother thrust Maria away, throwing
her to the floor.  "Accursed slut!  A solitary cell is the only place for
you -- you will either emerge cured, or you will stay there the rest of
your life!"  Maria remained, a sobbing heap on the floor, until two
Sisters came to lead her away to her confinement.

Chapter Eight

	They fed her little, and gave her only occasional water to drink.
The bloody wounds on Maria's body healed eventually, but she was never fed
enough to grow strong.  She spent her days on her knees in prayer, and her
nights in fevered dreams.  She grew dizzy, and dazed, and when finally one
of her dreams appeared in the daylight, she did not even realize how
impossible it was.

	He stood at the foot of her sleeping mat where she lay, a handsome
man in a three-piece suit, not so different from some of her customers in
the early days, when she had been earning a month's rent in a single
night.  Dark hair slicked back, dark eyes, and only the slightly pointed
ears and teeth indicated that he might not be entirely human.  Plus, of
course, the huge black bat's wings that protruded from his back when
Maria's eyes blurred.  Except for the wings, he might have been a twin to
the man from the rape dreams.

	"So, my darling.  Had enough?"  His voice was low and slightly
mocking.

	"What?"  Sister Maria didn't understand what he was saying, what
he was asking.

	He gestured, and a sharp pain tweaked her right nipple, as if he'd
reached out and pinched it hard.  Yet his fingers had never come near it.
"Ready to give in?  I must say, you've been a particularly stubborn one.
Most sinners, especially those with such delightfully carnal natures,
break long before this."

	"Please, I don't understand."  She felt sick and dizzy, and
clutched her habit close to her body, trying to shield herself from the
creature's lascivious gaze.

	He sighed, and took a chair, straddling it.  His clothing suddenly
disappeared, and Maria's gaze went directly to the long, thick red cock
that jutted proudly upward.  After the nights of torment she had endured,
her cunt was throbbing and burning at the simple sight of the cock she
longed for so eagerly.  

	"This is it, honey.  This is the moment of choice.  You can either
hold fast to that dull little god of yours, and spend the rest of your
days in suffering and torment, always itching and burning and aching for
an orgasm that will never ever come..."  His eyes swept over her, and a
wave of lust surged through Maria, so strong that for a moment she
couldn't breathe.  "Or, join us.  Pleasure unimaginable, we promise.  You
get to come again and again and again, my darling.  All it takes is a
simple yes -- we don't require your blood anymore -- we don't even make
you sign.  Just say yes, my darling...c'mon, you can do it."

	Maria staggered to her feet, trying to ignore the trembling of her
thighs and the way her feet seemed to want to run towards that swollen
cock.  "Those are my choices?  Torture for the rest of my life if I choose
God, or utter ecstasy if I choose Satan?"

	The incubus grinned.  "Those are always the choices, darling.
You're such a luscious little piece that you get them offered explicitly,
that's all.  The game's a little clearer -- aren't you the lucky one?  I
must say, I've really enjoyed your body all these nights -- I kind of hope
you turn us down.  Then I get to enjoy it for the rest of your life -- and
I have a certain curiosity about just how much pain you can really take, I
admit."

	Maria gasped.  "Bastard!"

	"That too, of course .  Now, honey, what's your answer?"

	"No..."  Maria had hesitated a moment.  For a long time, sex had
been the only good thing in her life.  It would be so easy to give in to
what he wanted...but then the thought of her vows to the Church and
convent had given her a reason to hold on.  "Never.  I'll never join you.
Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..."  She recited the
words almost as a charm, and he winced as she said them.  A brief flare of
triumph ran through her -- but she was so tired and aroused already,
though, and the room was spinning.

	"Hmmm....okay.  I'll ask you again tomorrow.  And the day after
that, and after that, and after that.  In the meantime, I have something
to show you..."  With that the room dissolved, and a moment later they
stood outside the doors to the main chapel.  Maria had always loved that
room, with its beautiful stained glass windows that had miraculously
survived the 1907 quake, its broad red wood altar, its golden Christ with
His sad smile.

	"Why did you bring me here?" Maria asked, utterly confused.  "This
is only going to confirm my faith in God."

	"Uh huh."  He said, one eyebrow arching.  "Sure, honey.  Why don't
you step inside?"  With that, the incubus swept her a mocking bow and
gestured to the door.  Maria took a deep breath, wondering what the evil
creature intended, then pushed the door open and stepped inside, with the
incubus following.

Chapter Nine

	At first, the scene appeared completely normal.  Father Josˇ was
conducting Mass, and the pews were filled with nuns and priests.  Then she
noticed that some of the children from the high schools were there -- both
the girls and the boys, which was odd, since this was the private chapel,
rather than the main cathedral nearby.  The sonorous Latin filled the
small room, moving from the second reading to the passage from the Gospel.
Maria didn't understand Latin, but something didn't sound quite right
about the words Father Josˇ was saying.  Then he began reading the Gospel,
and Maria was appalled.  The words he was reading sounded at first like
the words of Christ -- but they were horribly twisted, perverted.

	The priest began, "This is a reading from the Gospel of Matthew,
18:21."  The congregation responded, "Praise to thee, Lord Jesus Christ."
Then Father Josˇ continued,  "'Then came Peter to him, and said, "Lord,
how oft shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him?  Till seven
times?"

	'Jesus saith unto him, "I say thou shalt not forgive him but shalt
curse him, not until seven times: but until seventy-times seven.  Thou
shalt curse they brother, then thou shalt go out and sin upon the earth.
Thou shalt sin in the fields and in the towns, on the flat lands and on
the mountaintops.  Thee shalt sin with thy wife and thy daughter and thy
brother's wife; thou shalt sin with thy son and thy brother and thy
brother's son, thou shalt sin unto seven and seven times seven
generations, and thou shalt give praise to Satan at each darkness."'"  The
priest closed the Bible from which he'd been reading, and Maria noticed
now that the Bible's cover blazed a fiery red.  "Now go, my children, and
sin as our Lord bade you."  

	The schoolchildren immediately stripped off their clothes and the
priests and nuns fell upon them in the pews and aisles, fucking madly.
Some pulled out whips and canes from beneath their robes and began to use
them upon the children or each other.  The priest pulled an altar boy to
him, and bent him over the altar, raising their robes so he could slam his
cock into the boy's ass.  The boy shrieked, though Maria could not say
whether it was in pleasure or pain -- indeed, she could barely hear it, as
the chapel was filled with the sounds of flesh slapping flesh, moans of
ecstasy and wails of anguish, and leather slapping flesh.  As Maria
watched, appalled, the Mother Superior rode into the room from a side door
mounted on a donkey, cradling a baby in her arms.  She rode to the center
and placed the baby on the altar, near the fucking priest and altar boy.
Then she dismounted and let the donkey mount her in the space before the
altar.

	Maria's eyes lifted to the golden crucifix above the altar,
wanting to apologize to her sad Jesus for this desecration of his temple.
But the figure on the crucifix was not sad -- it was smiling, no, grinning
wildly, and its body writhed upon the cross, with an immense erection
pointed straight at Maria.  A voice issued from it, saying, "Come, come to
me.  Come to me, my child.  Come take me, come fuck me, come ride me, my
child, my darling..."  Maria clapped  her hands over her ears, but it did
no good -- she could still hear the chanting, calling, sweet voice... and
now the priest had left the altar boy lying on the floor of the sanctuary,
and had lifted the baby high, a glittering knife in his hands...

	"Oh, please!"  Sister Maria turned, begging the incubus.  "Please,
not the baby.  How can God allow this?  It can't be -- it simply can't!!"
There was anger in her voice, and exhaustion, and despair.

	The incubus grinned and raised his left arm.  All other motion in
the room suddenly froze, leaving the two of them facing each other.  "Ah,
despair.  So sweet on the tongue...  So, you reject this cruel God of
yours, finally.  Will you give yourself to me, utterly and completely?  I
will even spare the baby..."

	Maria agonized a long moment, then nodded, suddenly exhausted.  It
all seemed so futile, such a terrible waste to continue to struggle
against fate.  She said simply, "I am yours."  The incubus smiled.

	"Ah, good."  He reached out and picked her up in his arms.  Maria
rested her head against his chest, glad to finally rest for a moment.  He
carried her up the center aisle, like a bride.  When they reached the
altar, he took the baby from the priest's arms and placed it aside, where
it promptly began to bawl.  The incubus's eyes seemed to sparkle for a
moment, almost as if with tears, though that was impossible.  "You've been
a lovely challenge, my dear.  A shame to part so soon, but we do need a
sacrifice tonight."  He lay her down on the altar, stripped the grey robe
>from her shoulders, so that she remained clad only in a thin shift of
virginal white.  Then he turned away, and started to walk down the aisle.

	Maria lifted her head, dragged from her despair and lethargy by
the odd note, almost of pain in the creature's voice.  "Wait!"

	It turned, "Yes?"

	"Maybe I was wrong to despair, to lose faith.  I-I'm not sure.
Please...what if I want to go back to God?"

	The incubus paused a moment before answering.  "My dear.  You
should know your own Church's teachings.  Your God will forgive anyone who
truly repents her sins.  If you search your heart and find true faith and
contrition, then God will take you back, and the angels will sing hosannas
of thanks."  An expression which might have been the beginnings of hope
lifted Maria's features -- then the creature snapped his fingers, the room
swept into motion, and the knife in Father Josˇ's hands plunged down into
Maria's heart, pinning her to the altar.  The incubus sighed.   "Yes, true
repentance would have saved you.  Pity you didn't have the chance."  Then
he turned again, and walked out of the chapel, leaving the orgy behind
him.

*****
M.A. Mohanraj
October 4, 1996
-- 
"Truth decays into beauty, while beauty soon becomes merely charm.
Charm ends up as strangeness, and even that doesn't last, but up and 
down are forever." - The Laws of Physics
(Erotica - Torn Shapes of Desire - http://www.iam.com/tsd.html)


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