Un-Convent-ional Punishment

[BadForm]

The year was 1582. Father Jeremiah Forthingale was once more on his rounds of the convents in and around his parish in Anglia. Today, he was at his favorite convent, that of the Order of the Sisters of Mary Magdelene. He had an understanding with the mother superior there... and understanding based on punishment of the nuns which would allow both priest and abbess to satisfy their carnal and sadistic hungers. Nobody outside the convent would ever find out, and if they were told about it, they would believe a priest and abbess before anyone else.

The father looked down at the papers before him. Ah, this was an interesting one. Sister Mary, the newest sister to join the order, and a beauty at the tender age of 18. She was, from what the abbess had told him confidentially, as innocent as they came. To look at the list of sins before him, though, she was a whore, a blasphemer... virtually the devil's own handmaid. Her true innocence would be destroyed today.

Father Jeremiah Forthingale waited for the young nun to arrive in his office, smiling to himself.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

OOC : I'm new to this place... let me know if this is... helpful..would love to get involved.

IC

Twisting her fingers nervously in the harsh fabric of her new clothes, Sister Mary glances nervously around the stark room awaiting her summons. A richly born noble woman, she would find life in the convent harsh at first... she sighs..remembering her fine clothes... her comfortable upbringing.. but..that was when her dear father was alive. Now ... she was left with few options.. she would not sell herself.. for a comfortable life.

No!! .. subconsciously squaring the shoulders of her slight frame... she mentally braced herself for the choice she had willingly made. Better hardship than ... dishonour... corruption... at least here... .she would remain... unsullied by the concerns of the world....

Smiling calmer, yet still playing with her hair nervously.... Marianne .. now plain sister Mary freezes. Her face falls suddenly... her hair... she had not yet cut her hair..usually worn long and fair about her shoulders it was now.. twisted and tied up out of sight....
Would she be ordered to cut it...immediately.. later...
It was the one vanity she would really miss... miss above all others...

Looking her now still hands... head bowed..eyes downcast... she hears a noise..... the door opens... she looks up.. shyness, fear, panic all crossing her expression as she looks timidly up at the Father approaching.....

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

Catherine Morley is an orphan. She has been raised for years in this convent, though she is several years of study from being a sister of the cloth. But these women have cared for her, brought her from child to womanhood, and now, she does her best to be a servant to the sisters, to perform her chores with grace and gratitude to God and humanity. Catherine is beautiful, though she would never think so. She does not wear the robes of a Sister, only a simple white shift, and sometimes a green apron that is heavier for the winter. This day, Catherine holds a large basket filled with linens she has washed. Her long auburn hair is tied up in a tignon, and she sweeps the escaped tendrils away from her face in a smooth gesture.

She slips her shoes off at the door to the convent and is weary from the wash room outside. She has seen the carraige sitting neatly in the modest gardens of the convent and knows this must be the expected Father Forthingale. She is curious what the man looks like. She has not been in the company of many men. In fact, perhaps only three in her lifetime in this convent. She has rarely left these grounds.

She hears the voices of people talking, and does not want to interrupt of disturb them.. Quietly, she pads barefooted down the cool and drafty stone hall, but then, in a moment of unusual curiosity and impertinence, she stops near the great door to the Mother Abbess's chamber, and she listens...feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt at this eavesdropping...

 

[BadForm]

OOC: I'm eager to carry on, but we could really do with an Abbess to be the Father's partner in crime here. Anyone up for the role of a perverse mature woman?

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

OOC: I thought about doing it but I think I would suck at role playing an older woman. Sorry. However this has already inspired me to write a story. I will have it done in about a week.

 

[BadForm]

Father Jeremiah Forthingale

The father looked at the woman before him, his face betraying no emotion. "Come," he said simply, before reentering his room and sitting down behind a table.

The sister looked about to find another chair, but a warning word from the father reminded her she should stand still and not fidget. His eyes travelled the length of her body. She was dressed in the garb of the convent, a shift under a long black habit and a white wimple on top. It was much simpler than the costume favored by most orders and came as something of a shock to most of the new nuns. Father Forthingale looked back into the young nuns eyes.

"Sister Mary," you have been here but a few weeks and already, I regret to say, I have received many reports of your unfortunate, nay sinful behaviour."

He looked at the sheet before him and frowned. "Sister, why are you behaving in such a manner?"

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

"come"
A single word.. cold but commanding... silently she got up and followed, unable to read anything from the Father's inscrutable expression.

The room, as all the rooms in the convent, so stark, unwelcoming, but she knew that was the idea! Comfort did not exist. Such a change from the life she once knew.

Casting her eyes round for a chair, she remembered, belatedly, that she was not being invited for a social chat. The Good Father was, she had been told an important man and had summoned her. For what purpose she could not fathom. Did every new postulant receive such an audience.

A sound subtly reminding her as to what was expected she stood submissively, respectfully, her eyes lowered awaiting the Father's words. After what seemed to her an age, but must have been mere seconds she slowly raised her head, sensing his eyes on her and returning his intent look.

"Sister Mary," you have been here but a few weeks and already, I regret to say, I have received many reports of your unfortunate, nay sinful behaviour."

Her eyes opened in shock. sinful... ?... me...?...
His eyes locked with hers.. seeming to look into her very soul... seeing guilt there, perhaps she was still too proud... but sinful.... ?Her eyes registered confusion.

He lowered his gaze once again, leaving her mind free to race back replaying her conduct, her words, her actions over the past weeks. It had been a difficult adjustment to make, but, she had tried so hard! So determined was she to succeed in pursuing the humble simple life she had chosen for herself. In the outside world she had been known as a woman of breeding and virtue.

Raising his eyes once more from the paper before him, his eyes locking with her troubled ones, his words cut into her as he spoke softly and yet harshly,

"Sister, why are you behaving in such a manner?"

"Father.... Father... Forthingale.." she stammered, even unsure about how to address such an important person. "I....I. am not sure what you mean. I.. have tried to follow the rules and... although this life is ... difficult... I am doing my best..."

She broke off.... awkwardly stammering a defence for unknown actions...Glancing up at the man before her, his expression unreadable, his eyes not leaving her, his gaze unblinking.

Flushing as if guiltily before him, fidgeting once again.. unused to being spoken to and questioned in this manner.

If this were "outside" in her world... the world which was hers... she would question him in return... ask what reports he had received... what was written on that paper he kept referring to... but here it was she who was answerable... answerable to this coldly authoritative man who claimed he knew of her "sinful" nature. She had been sure the Abbess had approved of her efforts, she had certainly been kind and welcoming since Marianne had been under her care.

With a frown, she mentally pulled herself up... Marianne indeed!... here you are Sister Mary.... She closed her eyes, willing herself to adjust better.

Opening them she looked up at Father Jeremiah Forthingale who had been watching her intently all this time. Her voice soft and polite as she spoke:

"Father, if you could tell me in which ways I have displeased the Mother Abbess and... sinned against God and the Church, I will do my best to.... make amends......."

 

[BadForm]

His stern eyes held hers. She was nervous, and understandably so. She had been called before him with no hint as to what her transgressions had been, and, he knew, she would be surprised when she found out.

"Firstly, Sister Mary, there is the sin of deceit. You know full well all of your sins, Sister, for 'twas you who committed them. You are new to the order, and for this reason, sister, I will be leniant on this issue. Be warned, however, that in the future, you will be expected to be truthful at all times, and not stand before me in the pretence of innocence.

"Secondly, there is the sin of vanity. Sister Mary, I see that you have as yet failed to attend upon the Abbess so that she may trim your hair to a respectable length. You are a sister of this order, not the whore of Babylon. And the punishment for this shall be the removal of all hair from your body."

He watched as this sank in. How would she react. Would it be with humility? With anger? He knew the abbess had not told her to have he hair cut short, but what could she say. She had already been accused of deceit. The priest waited for he reaction.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Sister Mary

She stood… her eyes locked to his….unable to remove her gaze as his cold calculated words hit her. Disgust, anger, disappointment and.. just a hint of a threat were conveyed in his calm but clear words. Each word clipped as a shard of glass, cutting her to the quick.

Her face paled, coloured emotions churning round as his words hit her…the words.. sinking in..slowly.. layer by layer…

“Whore of Bablylon!?” her mind screamed.. how dare he…??… Did he not know it was to save herself from being practically sold to the best suitor that she had entered this awful place!? Her eyes sparked, he natural inclination being to tell him where to shove his rules, his judgements. Her chin jutting stubbornly forward her eyes met his levelly, challengingly.

What did he know about her anyway, this self-righteous.. opinionated…self-important……… She cast her mind around for a suitable name for this… this….. .insufferable….. man… !
She paused…..biting her lip…this.. priest actually…. the Father of the Abbey.

The Father… who had taken his vows. Dedicated his life to God’s service… and here she was… a mere postulant.. almost.. cursing him.
She coloured… dropping her eyes to focus on the Father’s cross… hung from his robes. The cross itself accused her.

The word Vantity.echoed in her mind. Yes.. she was vain.. and.. although the Abbess had not made the request of her.. specifically told her to tend to her hair... she knew in her heart of hearts that she should have presented herself and broached the subject before now. Instead she had tied it up.. brushing it out at night, when all the others had retired.. still.. dreaming.. enjoying the sight of it…as a symbol of what she had lost.. no .. given up she corrected herself angrily!

Her mind snapped back to the Good Father’s words.
Deceit… another sin of which she was accused. She was deceiving herself. Part of her still yearned for the rich comfortable world she had left behind. To be admired, to be…abruptly she cut off her train of thought. After two long weeks, she should be more selfless. He was right.

She raised her eyes again. Her eyes filled with indecision, then guilt and despair. She spoke softly:
“I am..sorry Father. I..should have reported to the Abbess. I…she faltered.. her manner and words..unfamiliar… I was aware of my sin. I beg forgiveness Father.”

Then… although she was speaking into silence it was then that the third and final layer of his words hit her.
“And the punishment for this shall be the removal of all hair from your body."
No… she could not have heard right.
What did those words mean?
How would she survive here?
She so wanted to be as selfless and pure, but had to let go.
Had to let go of her past life.

She turned her eyes beseechingly on the silent Father before her as if wordlessly beseeching him to understand her turmoil, to help…..

 

[BadForm]

Father Jeremiah Forthingale

Father Forthingale watched the woman before him. Her pride and strength were evident. She was high-born, but had lost her fortune. With that, she had also lost all hope of respect and wealth. Outside of a convent, only the whorepits awaited, and she would never be willing to prostitute herself. All of this was evident on her face, and in her stance. What had not yet sunk in was that the whorepits may be the easier choice - at least there she may make a little coin for her efforts.

His gaze remained steadily fixed on her eyes, knowing she would not look away for fear of offending. In those eyes he could read every tumultuous current she was experiencing. Every realisation, ever rebellion quashed, ever fear and every confusion. Well, it was time to take her a step further.

"Sister Mary," his voice was all the more menacing for its calm, clear quality. "Your arrogance and pride are evident to any who would look at you. You stand before me, defiant and bold. Do you forget, perhaps, that I am your Father. That it is through me that you will find the blessing of God. Do you perhaps feel you are above me?"

He paused, running his fingers along his jaw in deep thought. "Very well, if you have not yet learned to be humble at the tender grace of the good Abbess you will learn it now, Sister. As I stated, your punishment, which I shall administer, will be the removal of all the hair of your body. There are two things you must bring me, sister. The first is a pair of shears, that I may remove the bulk. The next is a shaving knife and soap. You will find them in my room, sister. Upon my table."

He gave her a few seconds to allow that to sink in. Yes, he was going to shave her head, her vagina and any other part of her body where he found hair. But that was not all.

"I still see the light of defiance in your eye, Sister Mary. It appears I must truly return you to a state of innocence. Disrobe now. Stand before me as Eve did before the fall, naked and innocent. This is how you will spend the next week. I hope that you may learn humility."

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

"NOooo!!"
The words were out of her mouth before her brain had the sense to retract them.

His earlier words about her feeling above him, her pride and her defiance had struck home. She felt shame, guilt. But... Man of God or not.. he could not mean to do this to her.

"No. Father!.. You cannot mean to do this?"
She exclaimed.. incredulous.

I will do penance... shave my head... anything.. reasonable... but this...
She broke of speechless...unable to continue.. shocked to her core.

She had never ..exposed herself to a man...and.. although having all her hair shaved seemed.. extreme.. she could bear that.. bear that at his hands... accept the justice of the punishment.

She met his gaze again.. panic.. and humiliation both apparent.
When she spoke her voice shook with emotion.

"No... I am sorry Father.. but..no.. I cannot.. will not.. present myself naked before you or let you.... "
her voice broke and a hue of shameful crimson suffused her previously pale cheeks. She lowered her head.

I" beg of you ... Father.... " she paused.. suppressing the sobs... which she had all but held back... "please..." the catch in her voice was all too clear... "please..turn me over to the Mother Abbess... I swear I will obey her .. in all things."

His accusation of her lack of humility stung her... she sank to the floor..kneeling.. penitently at his feet.
"Please Father, be merciful.... " She raised her eyes to him.... unaware or uncaring of the tears on her cheeks.....
..." please....?... " She implored her voice heart-wrenchingly emotional....

 

[BadForm]

Father Jeremiah Forthingale

The father stood and walked over to the kneeling nun. He placed a hand on top of her head, and caressed her hair, not unkindly. He had used the stick, and would again, but now it was time for the carrot.

"Sister Mary, I am being merciful. All within these walls are bound by the word of God. You, the sisters, the Abbess.. and I myself. Without the following of God's commands, this place will be defamed. And I know you no more wish that than I wish to see you lost and alone on the cold streets."

He raised her chin so he could look down into her eyes and feigned a look of fatherly love.

"Dear child, it is nothing that I ask of you. That you spend one week without dress? That is one week in the natural state in which the Lord made you. How can that be shameful? It cannot. It is not."

And so he continued to caress her soft cheek with loving respect. But his next words, while spoken in the gentlest of voices, would likely be the ones to compell her.

"Did Abraham refuse the Lord when, in the Genesis he is commanded 'Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about.' Nay, I say, he did not. For Abraham was a true man of God and knew that to prove his devotion, sometimes he must put aside his own feelings and human morals, and accept the greater will and knowledge of the Lord.

"Tell me, Sister Mary, do you truly consider your instruction to be more difficult than that of the Lord unto Abraham?"

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Sister Mary

Her head dropped.. a feeling of helplessness swept over her. The tears so long suppressed fell freely. If her father had not died, she would not have been put in this situation. Refusing the ..auction of her inheritance.. refusing to … cheapen ... herself to a mere commodity…was it really worth it? Surely this was far .. far worse.

She caught her breath, as a gentle hand rested on her head.. moving.. gently.. stroking… she choked back a sob. Her father had used to comfort her like this.. used to stroke her hair to calm her. Perhaps that was why its loss was so important to her.
Father Forthingale' s words cut through her reverie.

"Sister Mary, I am being merciful. All within these walls are bound by the word of God. You, the sisters, the Abbess.. and I myself. Without the following of God's commands, this place will be defamed. And I know you no more wish that than I wish to see you lost and alone on the cold streets."
His tone, whilst not qquite warm, was … almost ...comforting… certainly ..concerned...

She felt his hand beneath her chin and allowed him to raise her distraught face. His eyes.. as she looked into them once more… held a warmth... an ... understanding.. so unexpected.. and so welcome. She thought again of her father. If only……..

The Father once again broke into her thoughts, preventing her pursuing that line of fantasy…
"Dear child, “ he started. Getting her attention immediately. Her nature naturally compliant was more than willing to hear his now affectionate words.
“.. it is nothing that I ask of you,” he continued, “that you spend one week without dress? That is one week in the natural state in which the Lord made you. How can that be shameful? It cannot. It is not."
Put like that.. his request seemed.. almost… reasonable… the sin..which she had attached to the act..must..surely come from her own.. sullied mind. He was after all, Holy. Not a man, in *that* sense. To think thus would be to .. insult him...

She continued to gaze up at him. His hand lightly moving across her cheek. Calming.. tender almost. Paternal. His eyes filled with understanding.. and her need to .. understand the meaning behind what he required from her.

So softly.. so gently did he continue his speech that she had to strain to hear his words. Though quoting scripture.. it did not impact her as sermonising… He concluded: “For Abraham was a true man of God and knew that to prove his devotion, sometimes he must put aside his own feelings and human morals, and accept the greater will and knowledge of the Lord.
“Human morals…. The greater will… She reflected these words.

"Tell me, Sister Mary, do you truly consider your instruction to be more difficult than that of the Lord unto Abraham?" He enquired finally.
What could she answer? She bent her head, ashamed at her resistance, her rebellion.

“No Father.” She whispered contritely. “ I pray that I may be given the grace to obey the Lord… and .. " looking up at him trustingly, "..thank you for your.. guidance and compassion.”

With a modest blush.. she raised her hands..to unbutton her shift.. struggling with the cumbersome fastenings….

 

[BadForm]

Father Jeremiah Forthingale

The priest turned away from her and took his seat at his table once more. He leant over the bible which was open before him and continued to read without acknowledging the young nun. He could still see her though, out of the upper part of his eyes, and he was enjoying the sight of her.

She was broken now, at least in part. She had taken that first step which would eventually lead to her downfall. Nothing he could ask would she not, eventually give way to. However, if she thought she had faced the worst of what would come in punishment, she was mistaken. He gave the list of her supposed crimes another glance and allowed himself a slight smirk. That he erased at once, to ensure she did not see it.

As he read he heard a slight noise outside the door. He looked to the side, noticing the door had not quite been latched properly. Then he saw it move slightly and smiled. So, one of the other nuns was listening. Well, if that did not present another avenue of entertainment for him, and shame for sister Mary, nothing did.

The priest stood as Sister Mary continued to undress and strode over to the door. He opened it suddenly, and the woman outside fell inside in surprise. It was not one of the nuns, which was a surprise, but one of the women who had been raised from an orphan in the convent. She would take her vows one day, but this gave the priest an opportunity to enjoy her before that blessed day.

"Stand up, my child," he said. "And come inside."

OOC: You're in Catherine... hope you're prepared.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Sister Mary

As she fumbled with her fastenings, the Father turned away taking his seat at the table on which lay various papers. She glanced over nervously, calmed by the fact that he appeared deep in thought.

His attention diverted, she slipped off the wimple, then the black habit she had been struggling with. It was almost a relief to be rid of the heavy garment. Pausing, in her white shift she glanced over at Father Forthingale. He seemed deep in thought, prayer perhaps? His head bent over a massive Bible, not a glance, not an acknowledgement to her actions. Reassured and convinced now that her soul was safe in this man's hands she formed unspoken prayers and unmouthed vows of obedience as she slipped off her shift.

For her 18 years, her body was curvaceous. Wide hipped with full ripe breasts, her long fair hair still pinned up high on her head. She had been considered a beauty, she acknowledged with a grimace, knowing that that would only prove an obstacle to her instruction now.

Wiith resolution, she peeled off the last of the garments. Whereas she had felt comfortable in her shift, she now felt exposed, vulnerable, but not ashamed. Not after the Good Father had explained why this task had been set her. She glanced over her body, neither approving nor disapproving. She was now as Eve. As God intended. She blanked her mind. Forcing any thoughts of those human morals out of them. She would obey. Try to follow the orders laid down by this Man of God.

She gave a start as he suddenly moved from his desk to the door.
There had been a noise outside! She, instinctively ducked down to the pile of clothes which had lain at her feet, clutching one of the garments to her in an effort to cover herself, pariallly at least. Curled in this way, making herself small behind the flimsy protection she gasped as the girl fell inside in response to the door being suddenly pulled open.

How long had she been there?
How much had she heard?
Her cheeks burned with shame.
Her serenity now fled by the sudden intrusion, she struggled for composure as the Father addressed the girl.

"Stand up, my child," he said. "And come inside."

Sister Mary was now the one crouched on the floor, as if poised for light. She raised panicked eyes and glanced questionningly as the girl stood and entered....

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

Catherine

With eyes frightened, curious and large as saucers, Catherine entered the room. She wanted to tell the Father that she had not been eavesdropping, that she was not overhearing their conversation, that she was not...ah, but that would be a lie. She could make no words of defense form in her cupid's bow mouth. Clinching her hands together, she entered the room and saw a woman in a plain shift, in a state of partial undress. The woman looked frightened, embarrassed and mortified at her current situation. Catherine was aware that her own presence made this woman more uncomfortable. She recognized this woman, quite beautiful, as being a recent addition to the convent, though she had not spoken to her yet.

With an impertinent curiosity, Catherine looked at the woman's breasts, larger than her own, and admired their creamy skin color. Realizing she was being wretched, and she was already in enough trouble, she turned her head away and forced herself not to look at the beautiful woman. She dared not look at the Father, for he might think that action an even ruder offense. Staring at the floor, she stood in the center of the room and waited for the priest to instruct her. She hoped he had not known how long she had been outside the door.

 

[BadForm]

Father Jeremiah Forthingale

Father Forthingale returned to his seat and considered the two beautiful women before him. Sister Mary was flushed with embarrassment, while Catherine was shaking in fear. Both were his to command, and that was good. Catherine added a new dimension to the punishment that Sister Mary was to suffer. And a new dimension to the whole situation. He wondered for a moment just how far he dare push them... and realised it was all the way.

"Sister, you will find the shears, the shaving knife and soap in my room. Bring them here, with a bucket of water that we may begin your penance. Go now, as you are. Your week without clothes has begun."

The father turned his attention onto Catherine and wondered just how much she had heard. Well, however much she knew before, that should give her some hint as to what the start of the punishment should be.

"My child," he said, ignoring the nervous nun. "Why were you listening at the door? Do you not know the grievous nature of your trespass?"

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

She rose slowly.. allowing the clothing to drop to the floor. Standing, rosy cheeked in her nude state. She looked across at the girl noticing her eyes travelling in surprise over her naked body. She flushed still deeper in humiliation. Her eyes moved to the Father and back to the girl who looked unfamiliar and even younger than herself. The girl was now stood, much as she had stood herself but minutes ago! Sister Mary tried to catch her eye to communicate compassion and understanding.

"Sister, you will find the shears, the shaving knife and soap in my room. Bring them here, with a bucket of water that we may begin your penance. Go now, as you are. Your week without clothes has begun."
His words chilled her. They were both subject to the harsh rules. How would she bare it? Her hesitation and turmoil went compeletly unnoticed. The Father having given his instructions in a voice which was calm and assured, clearly expected no futher rebellion, and would expect none. His anger was now firmly focused upon the newcomer.

Sister Mary, grateful that the attention was being taken off her, but guilty for feeling that way, threw a look to both the Father, silently waiting her exit before reprimanding the eavesdropper, then to the young girl who awaited his words. She then silently slipped out of the door, to fetch the items required.

As she moved quickly and nervously through the corridor she reasoned with herself, that if she met anyone they would be fellow sisters and ... although she would have to explain the reason for this .... humiliation .... ( she shuddered imagining the shame) ... name her sins and then describe the punishment justly apportioned to her, it would be better to get the initial ordeal over with as soon as possible.

Flushed and trembling about to face her own terrible punishment, she still glanced over her shoulder, wondering what the poor girl was going through in there…. The Father had not looked pleased.

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

Catherine.

"Father, I...I am...so very sorry...I have been impertinent and rude and I beg your forgiveness for my intrusion..."

The words came from her lips as a childish stammer. She could not help herself. She felt guilty...and she WAS guilty. Catherine felt her breathing become rapid, and try as she may to control it to a simple pattern, she could not. She felt the priest's steel gaze on her and felt as if she had already gone to the depths of Hell.

"I apologize, father, and beg your mercy."

 

[BadForm]

Father Jeremiah Forthingale

The priest raised his voice slightly as he addressed the girl, his annoyance obvious. "Catherine, I asked you a question. You will answer it. I had not asked you to beg and plead as though you feared for your life. I asked you to tell me why you were listening at the door, and whether you know how grievous a trespass you have committed."

He was standing now, his gaze pinning the grovelling woman to the hard floor. Her pleading was pleasing, but he would push her past it. He would make her confess not only to her crime, but to everything she perceived as a crime. And the one thing he knew was the human heart was generally more guilty than the human action.

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

Catherine.

She knew at once that she would have no lenience from the father. She must answer him truthfully, directly.

"I was listening at the door because...I heard voices and a man's voice...I do not hear men in these halls often, and then the woman's voice. I was curious, and I had intended on simply knowing who was in this room, but then...then your words became...compelling. I do not understand why. Yes, I know I have been a wicked girl. I await your wisdom and guidance, Father."

Keeping her eyes directed to the cool stones of the floor, she waited for what she was sure would be words to cast her out of the convent, her only home.

 

[BadForm]

Father Jeremiah Forthingale

Father Forthingale stared at her in apparent anger for over a minute, watching her tremble so seductively before him. She was another beautiful young woman and, if things went well, he would certainly taste her fruit, one way or the other, by the end of the night. Sister Mary may be more difficult, but this little one had not learned enough to take her vows yet. He let his face soften.

"My child, you acknowledge that you know better than to trespass into others private affairs. For that I must devise a punishment suiting to the crime. And be aware, I shall. However, let me assure you that your natural inquisitiveness is but a gift from the Lord himself. It is a hard gift, for it must be controlled. If uncontrolled it will turn you into a handmaid of the devil himself. Yet without the drive of controlled inquisitiveness, how are we to learn of the beauty, love and grace of god? I say we are not."

He paced towards her and urged her to stand by taking her hand. "I shall not punish you for one of God's gifts, for that would be a sin in itself, a blasphemy. No, rather I shall train you to use it well. Would you like that, child? Would you be my aid?"

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

Catherine.

Catherine's eyes widened. Was he truly asking for her help...in anything? It would be an honorable thing to serve him, to have such a great man's guidance and to be so close at his side! And was he not going to punish her? She almost trembled with relief.

"Father, it would be a most honored thing to learn the grace of God at your guidance. I am most indebted to you, Sir."

Shebecame bold then and with a graceful and almost seductive manner, she kneeled to take his hand and kiss his palm, in gratitude for his unexpected mercy. As she knelt, she found herself very near the priest's hips, and she had the strangest thought...what would it feel like to touch a man in that most secret of places?

In a flashing moment of quick images and racing fantasies, Catherine imagined what the priest's male organ might look like. She had seen the drawings in a book about medicine, of a male organ, and wondered if Father Forthingale's penis looked this way? No, he was such a powerful man and respected, that surely his would be larger. In her mind the organ stiffened and became a swollen pink color, the bulbous head of the thing blossoming like a ripe fruit. Horrified at her own wicked imagination, she shook off this strange thought, and rose quickly to her feet.

She curtsied to the priest and tried to supress the flush of heat that had stained her cheeks a deep red and now spread to her neck.

"How is it that I might learn from you, or help you, Father?"

 

[BadForm]

Father Jeremiah Forthingale

He looked at her nodded compliance and resisted the urge to smile. She looked so relieved and expectant, but was she expecting what was to come? He doubted it, she had nothing in her life to lead her up to this. Would she be ready? From the looks she was giving him, he felt she was. As ready as she could be at least.

"Child," he said, retaking his seat. "When you were outside, listening, you heard me inform Sister Mary that she must be punished. As your first task, you will be the one to perform that punishment, under my guidance. Bring the bucket of water in the corner over here ready to make a lather for when you shave her."

As she did so, Sister Mary re-entered.

"Ah," said the priest, "You have returned. Good. Now, Sister, give the shears etc to Catherine, and we may begin."

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

Catherine.

Poised firmly but unsure, Catherine takes the sharp shears in her hands, and gives Sister Mary an apologetic look. With a gentle touch, Catherine takes the woman's long, glorious mane of hair in her hands and with regret clearly in her deep green eyes, Catherine chops the first handful off. There is a long pause and the regret passes. the first bit is done. The rest is easier. Another handful of silky locks falls to the floor, then another and another. Soon, the beautiful woman's hair is cut as short as a boy's. Catherine works quicker, not wanting to prolong the torture of this woman any longer than neccessary. She clips off more hair, until the silky tresses are short little spiky tendrils, not long enough to grasp.

There is a pail of water near Catherine's feet, steaming water, and a fresh cloth. On a small tray lay a sharp razor and a small bottle of oil, the kind the Sisters often made from almonds and sold at the market.

Catherine takes a generous amount of the oil and rubs it into the remaining stubble of Sister's Mary's scalp, then picks up the razor and goes to work in long and careful strokes of the razor.

Catherine is an efficient worker and soon Sister mary's head is bald and very smooth. Catherine has taken off every bit to an almost asthetic finish. To her surprise, Sister mary is still beautiful, perhaps even more so in a different way. There is something ethereal about the woman's beauty now. As if she were a fairy creature.

Catherine looks back at Father Forthingale and asks,

"Is this as you want it, Father?"