"...Amen."
Father McNamara bestowed a friendly smile upon his congregation, and bade them all to go in peace. To his relief, Mrs Barton and her flirty daughter hadn't come to the evening service. He hadn't seen either of them since the extraordinary events a week ago. All the usual faces were there however, but the two nuns who had entered as he began his sermon - on the perils of temptation - intrigued him. They remained seated together in a pew while he dutifully stood by the huge old oak door, swapping small talk with several parishioners as they filed out, souls cleansed in preparation for the week ahead.
"Can I help you, Sisters?" He said, walking towards them after ushering his flock out into the world.
The taller one smiled at him as her companion said, "I hope so father."
Her voice, low and compelling, sounded vaguely familiar yet he didn't recognise the pretty face amidst the enfolding wimple of her order.
"My name's Sister Judith," she went on, studying him with large blue eyes, "and this is Sister Carmel. We have urgent need of your counsel on a delicate matter that can't be discussed with our sisters, please say you'll help us."
"Well I..."
"We'll be
very
grateful." Sister Carmel interrupted, taking his hand in hers. It felt warm, comforting his nerves. He'd felt uncomfortable in the presence of women since Mrs Barton had taken his innocence with regard to their wiles. Besides, what threat could two nuns pose to his virtue?
"Of course," he said, "won't you come this way?"
They stood, moving without apparent volition as their habits flowed down to the tiled floor, exchanging glances behind his back. Sister Judith pointed out the confessional box to her friend who placed a hand over her mouth, stifling a low laugh.
"I'll come any way you like honey!" She whispered and Sister Carmel jabbed her in the ribs, urging her to stop before her mirth disturbed the tranquillity of the church. Only the sharp, clip-clop of their shoes could be heard echoing off the bare stone walls, decorated with scenes from the passion. The only passion they were interested in was of a more worldly nature and they ignored them, following the unsuspecting priest who genuflected before the large gold crucifix on the altar before turning into a small room where he gestured for them to be seated.
A large man walked through another door to their left and said, "I'll be off then father."
"Alright Gordon," the priest replied, "thank you for your help. Good night - and say hello to your mother for me. I hope she's better soon."
"She'll be fine. The doctor says It's just a touch of flu. A few days in bed should see her right again." Gordon said, glancing curiously at the visitors.
They gazed back placidly without blinking, studying him in a manner most unbecoming to their station. He looked away and stammered good night to the priest, closing the door behind him as Father McNamara sat down opposite his unexpected guests.
"Now, what's this about?"
Sister Carmel walked over to the door and locked it while her partner said, "we know how the Church stands on the issue of two women - or men- enjoying sexual congress, but what is your position on transgender relations?"
"Well I..."
"It's an abomination in the eyes of the Lord, right?" Sister Carmel said, walking over to him.
"...don't think I could possibly - er, yes. Yes, I suppose it is." He blushed and crossed his legs, avoiding her direct gaze.
"Answer me this then,
priest
. Sister Carmel said, standing defiantly before him. "Look at me! Would a loving God make me as I am? Knowing I will be despised by all those who judge themselves
normal
in his eyes. After all, he made us in his image, right?"
He turned his head to watch her untie the cord around her waist and said, "That's true, but we mustn't presume to know the mind of God."
"Know thyself priest!" She laughed, slid the cord from her body and let it dangle loosely by her side while pulling the centre of her habit aside with a tearing sound.
"Please Sister! Remember your vow." He gaped at the dark velvet triangle between her parted legs and tried to rise.
She pushed him roughly back into the chair. "My vow?" She sniggered, rending the velcro'd halves of her garment aside by lifting an inappropriately shod foot onto the arm of his chair. "What do you know of my vows?"
He stared at the high heel in confusion. Did nuns wear such things now? He wondered, feeling his face burn with embarrassment at her brazen stance. Should she be wearing stockings, and panties? Her heat was obvious by the startling bulge between her wide spread thighs. He found himself transfixed with fascination by the beefy swelling, stretching the black velvet out towards him.
"You mustn't." He whispered. His gaze followed her fingers, pulling the top of her habit aside, exposing more of the same material, containing twin monuments of feminine lushness.
"Mustn't I?" She said softly, defying his plea until her habit hung loosely around her slender shoulders.
"No!" He said with more force, "or I'll..."
"You'll what?" She challenged, placing both hands on her hips.
"...call the police!" He cried, pushing her foot away and trying once more to escape the awkward situation.
"You don't want to do that," Sister Judith said, sitting calmly observant of the scene.
"Why not?" He said, staring defiantly at her Sister.
She answered his question with one of her own, smoothly taking control of the situation.
"Have you seen Mrs Barton this week?"
"How do you know...?" His voice trailed off, blown away in the gale of laughter from Sister Carmel as she saw the look of astonishment spread over his face like warm molasses pouring from a jar. She quickly took advantage of his discombobulation, pinning his hand to the chair arm with her foot and whipping the cord around his wrist, strapping it securely.
"I move in mysterious ways," Sister Judith drawled, "although I don't claim to be omnipotent."
Carla twisted the opposite end of the chord around the priests other wrist and sniggered, "but you are potent my love."
"Who
are
you?" He said, staring furiously at her.
She turned haughtily on her heel and flipped him the finger, "I'm more of a man than you'll ever be - and more of a woman than you'll ever have!"
Their laughter assailed his reeling senses until it was cut short as they kissed a long, luxurious kiss. Sister Carmel's upraised buttocks taunted him as she bent over and he could do nothing about the erection that responded to the lewd sight.
Father McNamara groaned as the realisation struck him. This was his mystery caller! He would be disgraced, de-frocked, outcast from the mother Church for sure. He strained at the cord in a gesture of defiance at his fate and slumped in his place as he realised the futility of trying to escape. There was nothing he could do but face up to their wicked will and rely on his faith to prevail.
