6 comments/ 151077 views/ 16 favorites Eli's Coming By: jjsharshaw There is no fear in love; perfect love drives out all fear. - I John 4:18, King James Version It's the child He loves that He disciplines; the child he embraces, He also corrects. God is educating you; that's why you must never drop out. He's treating you as dear children. This trouble you're in isn't punishment; it's training, the normal experience of children. Only irresponsible parents leave children to fend for themselves. Would you prefer an irresponsible God? - Hebrews 12:6-8, The Message Paraphrase Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. - II Corinthians 1:3-4, The English Standard Version Eli's comin'. Girl you better hide your heart; your lovin' heart. Eli's a comin' and the cards say a broken heart. - Eli's Coming Three Dog Night ~~~~~~~~~~ There is a hierarchy among surgeons. Urologists and Ob/Gyns are a quiet, generally dignified and an in-obtrusive lot. The older urologists can be generally humorless; not a bad idea for men who make a good deal of the living feeling men's prostates. One of these older, humorless urologists ambled toward a hospital room on the Urology floor at St. John of God Medical Center in Joplin, Mo. As he passed the nursing station he asked, in a dignified, slow, reserved voice for, "a glove and some jelly" with which to digitally examine (that is with a glove covered finger via the patient's rectum) a new admission's prostate gland. A (younger and much more humorous) nurse causally asked the doctor, "What flavor?" Slowly the urologist turned and asked, "What flavor of what, nurse?" "Jelly," the nurse retorted, barely able to suppress a smile. For at least 30 seconds the urologist stood in the middle of the hallway looking at those now assembled in the nurse's station waiting to see what this dignified urologist's answer would be. "I get it. That's a joke," the urologist finally (slowly) said. The nurse smiled a bedazzling smile (that had absolutely no apparent effect) at the frumpy looking urologist and said, "I'll get you the KY Doctor Card and be right with you." "Thank you, nurse." And with that the dignified urologist turned (slowly) on his heel and proceeded to resume his march to the patient's room to feel the gentleman's prostate. Next in the pecking order are General Surgeons, who can and do have senses of humor and dignity (sometimes). A general surgeon, whose unofficial sub -specialty was excising and draining pylonidal cysts (extraordinarily painful cysts that principally afflict men at the top of the gluteal maximal cleft (ass crack)) liked to yell, "Thar she blows!" when his scalpel incised the cyst, relieving its pressure and sending a column of blood and pus (under generally high pressure) toward the ceiling of the O.R. If the column of blood and pus managed to hit the ceiling and shower the O.R. crew with bacterially loaded goo, the general surgeon would then yell, "We gotta gusher, folks!" Other surgeons and O.R. crews, upon hearing "Thar she blows!" would stop whatever they were doing and wait to hear if he had a gusher or not. The O.R. crew who worked with this particular general surgeon would always make sure they had something plastic to cover themselves with when the surgeon did cysts. In between the General Surgeons and the "higher specialties" reside the Vascular Surgeons who found, sometime in the late 70's/early 80's, they could make a small mint, appealing to women's vanity and fixing women's legs afflicted with varicose and spider veins. Until the arrival of the Heart Surgeons and Interventional Cardiologists, Orthopedic and Neuro Surgeons were at the top of the hierarchy. This was not because their specialties required that much special knowledge and experience (Well, there's the thing about brain surgery...) But principally because the Orthopods (and to some extent the Brain Surgeons), almost to a man, were football jocks in college. This meant they were generally tall, well muscled and accustom to getting whatever they wanted, no matter who said no. That and the fact that hip and knee replacements done by the Orthopods and Carotid Endartrectomies (surgical cleaning of the Carotid arteries in the neck) done by the Brain Surgeons were volume surgeries with low overhead, i.e., there was lots of money to be made for both doctor and hospital. And then came the Heart Surgeons, officially known as Cardio-Thoracic Surgeons, and loosely known as "Chest Cutters" or simply, to the cognoscenti of the heart surgery trade, as "Cutters." The lesser Cutters walk on water and can turn water into wine. The stars of the Cardio-Thoracic trade do not walk on water; they walk five feet above it and can create wine from just about anything. You want this if you are a patient whose Cardiologist has just told you that your Right Coronary Artery is 90 percent blocked and you need heart surgery right away or one day, without warning, you will fall face first into your dinner plate and that, pretty much, is, as they say, that. So you want one of these guys who have no sense of failure. If a Cutter says you're going to live, you can pretty much make book on it. And if you do die, it was someone else's fault. Maybe yours. Definitively not your surgeon's. Of course, having no sense of failure breeds not just simple arrogance but a god complex in the respective surgeon and that can be dangerous. ~~~~~~~~~~ 2:30 AM The Basement of an apartment block 155th and Riverside Upper East Side, Manhattan, New York City Sweat trickled down the tortured woman's face and then the grimace of pain and the panting turned to a grimace of pleasure and breath held and released with accompanying sounds of pleasure, agonizing pleasure. The woman rubbed her thighs together and arched her back and belly out, pushing up her breasts to try to maximize the sensations. "You look so beautiful in pain as well as pleasure Rebekka." And, in a very raw, animalistic way, the woman, bathed in sweat and looking exhausted, did look beautiful. "Fu...fuck you...Eli. I'll give you another," the woman moaned in pleasure and then gulped for air, "I'll...give you an...another minute of two to get me the fuck down before I make you regret this. Seriously, Eli." "Ah, Bekka, you sound so harsh." The man pressed the button again that elicited a scream followed by several smaller screams. It was a small electric current passing through the dildos in Rebekkah's tortured sex and ass. The woman frantically pumped her pelvis against air. By this point in their "play" Bekka had been trained to respond to the electrical stimulation as a trigger to intense orgasms. Rebekka licked sweat off her upper lip and fixed a malevolent stare at Eli. "Do that one more time and I will kill you." Eli looked at the woman, a nurse in the Intensive Care Unit of Beth Israel Medical Center/St. Lukes - Roosevelt hospital, and contemplated her beauty in her bonds and her exhaustion and pain. She was so beautiful, hanging on the Roman Tau cross he had erected in his playroom. Her ankles and wrists were not impaled by spikes but were very well held in place by thick foam pads, ropes and duct tape. She still suffered pain at her bondage points as the ropes cut through the foam to make semi-deep and irritated ligature marks into her tender skin She sat upon a large dildo deeply embedded in her cunt and a smaller one deeply embedded in her ass. After dinner and normal (more or less) love making, Eli had drugged (consensually, more or less) his victim and placed her on his cross. Initially, as she was coming out of the drug, the cross and her helplessness excited her but as Eli kept her up and kept forcing orgasms on her she became angry. Eli stood on a pneumatic platform that could move him up or down the woman's body on the cross. He chose to stop at eye level. He grabbed a handful of her wet, lustrous black hair, arching her throat out from the cross, and with the other hand he jacked himself off and splattered his cum on her belly and thighs. This was the proverbial straw that broke Rebekka's back, figuratively speaking. 10:30 AM, the Next Morning Office of the Chief of Surgery Beth Israel Medical Center Manhattan "Eli, the only reason the other service chiefs are not here, the only reason your accuser is not here, the only reason that I am speaking in such normal tones is because I won the coin toss on how to handle your off duty proclivities." Eli Benjamin popped his gum and then attempted to blow a bubble as he looked with falsely concerned eyes at the Chief of Surgery. "Peter, are you talking about that little strumpet I had last night? Christ, I don't even remember her name. I think she got me drunk, maybe drugged me. She's nothing but a third rate whore as I recall. She blew me off in the cab." The Chief of Surgery smiled a tight little smile that Eli did take notice of because it appeared that the Chief of Surgery, whom Eli thought was born anally retentive and permanently unhappy, was happy; very happy. "Dr. Benjamin, the name of your little strumpet, the third rate whore? Yeah, her name is Rebekkah Rene Quentin, nee Samuelson. Does her birth name sound familiar?" "Samuelson? Well, your name is...," and then the depth of Eli's problem became immediately evident to him, "Oh." Eli became slightly worried. "Oh, shit, Peter. Well...all I can say is...oops. You know, my bad." Dr. Peter Samuelson, M.D., smiled his tight little smile. "Yeah, Eli, I learned quite a bit about your sexual perversions while I was suturing my first born child's ligature marks on her wrists, her ankles and her throat at 4 AM this morning. Oh, and I had to throw a couple of sutures in her rectum. She would not explain how she was torn back there except to remind me that she is a champion amateur skeet shooter. You can draw your own conclusions but I would think it wouldn't be too safe for you to live and work in the greater New York area any longer. Bekka's got this Italian custom over/under 20 gauge skeet gun that is very short and easily concealed. "I had to sedate her mother. She kept screaming at me to call, let's see, how did she put it? Oh, yes, she kept screaming, 'Peter don't you know any Italians that you could call to cut off the bastard's testicles?' As much as it pained me, I had to tell her that I didn't. But I did one better, I think." Eli deadpanned, "Peter, I'd let you take one testicle. No anesthesia. It would hurt like hell. But hey, anything for you. And listen, third rate whore? That was only a defensive lie. Your daughter could suck and fuck like no one I've been with for..." "Eli." "Yes, Peter." "Shut up. "You, my filthy pervert, are black balled. I am fairly certain that by later this afternoon you won't even be able to get a job working for a veterinarian anywhere on the Eastern Seaboard. By this time tomorrow morning I don't think you'll be able to find work in a hospital in Chicago, L.A., San Francisco or Dallas. Of course you had that problem with Baylor sometime back so Dallas, Houston, the Gulf Coast and as far west as Arizona is already closed to you. "Well, you've, uh, certainly been thorough Peter. And merciful, I might add. You think she's seriously with the shotgun?" "Quite. Seriously, I'd hire someone to pack up your condo and then hole up in a hotel until you find something - abortions in Newark, maybe? I mean she mentioned the first shot should take off your genitalia and then the second shot would make you an ostomy user for life." Eli frowned. "Oh." Dr. Samuelson smiled his tight little smile again. Eli knew Dr. Samuelson was quite serious. ~~~~~~~~~~ Six Months Later Eli moved to a studio apartment in Parsippany, New Jersey, under an assumed name, and began his job search. It took Eli six months to find an opening at a medium sized medical center in Southwest Missouri. If anything, Peter Samuelson, in avenging his daughter, had been thorough. Besides St. John of God's in Joplin, there was only a position open in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and one in Missoula, Montana. Eli took the southern most opportunity, reluctantly. Mike Strauss, the Vice President for Medical Affairs at St. John's made the ultimate decision to offer Eli a position. But before the offer was made Eli met with the two resident chest cutters, a husband and wife team, and the chief of the medical staff, the number two partner in the Orthopedic practice and as Chief of Staff, the most politically powerful doctor on staff. John Riffen, the chief of the medical staff saw the inevitable and said nothing. When Mike Strauss asked for Riffen's opinion, Riffen nodded 'yes' enigmatically and left the meeting. Richard Morgan and Cynthia Lockley, the husband and wife chest cutters, stayed with the Vice President longer, quite a bit longer according to John Riffen's spies. Negotiations over who would take each others' surgical calls allowing the surgeons some time off each week. Riffen, who never had been seen to smile, smiled slightly to himself. Morgan and Lockley would take Eli's calls but the majority of the surgical staff at St. John's knew all about the circumstances of Mordecai Elijah Benjamin's journey into the surgical hinterlands. Morgan and Lockley, fair to midland cutters, would take Eli's patient load when he needed a day off but there would be payment involved. And, quite likely, not fair payment either. ~~~~~~~~~~ If the heart surgery world is driven by ego the nurse/nun business is driven by the antithesis of ego: selfless love. St. John of God Medical Center is owned, operated and administered by the Sisters of Mercy, Omaha Province. About a baker's dozen of local nuns worked at various positions within the hospital. One of the nuns who serves as a surgical nurse is a bit of an anomaly. Sister Mary Magdalena du Plessiss is in her mid early to mid 30's, stunningly beautiful with a open, broad, oval face and large brown eyes through which the love of Christ focuses on anyone her gaze falls. Father Benedict Harter, the community's chaplain, had twice tried to discourage Sr. Mary from taking her solemn vows with the Sisterhood. When asked why by the community's prioress, Fr. Harter, in his early 80's, his blush set off by his thinning white hair, had to admit that "she looked too damn good to be a nun. She needed to be more in the mode of the dour, knuckle busting stereotype of a school teacher nun." It did not help the Father's embarrassment when it took the prioress an overly long time to quit laughing - though she had to admit she too noticed that Sr. Mary had the looks of a woman who had once been an all- American college cheerleader who was now pursuing her career and should be driving a minivan with two or three kids and a big dog in the back. There was no guile in Sr. Mary; what she said was what she meant. What others said she took at face value. Sometimes in surgery when someone told a joke or was being sarcastic a nurse or tech would have to pull Sr. Mary aside to explain. Then she got it. But even if she didn't get it she would laugh politely, always making the person who felt the need to explain or who had told the joke in the first place as if they were the greatest joke teller in the world and Mary's mind was just elsewhere. Silly Sr. Mary. When Sr. Mary did pastoral care rounds twice a week she changed from her surgical scrubs to her full habit. Her visits were eagerly anticipated by the young men on the Sports Medicine and Orthopedic floors and by the old men on the Oncology and Pulmonary floors. It didn't matter to Sr. Mary that the young men were not Catholic nor did it matter to the old men, who had long ago lost their faith in a god, that Sr. Mary wanted to pray with them. The Sister's voice carried a certain soft, ethereal peace to it and the soft touch of her hand on the hand or arm of the patient carried an unearthly compassion that left some patients in stunned silence and peace after Sr. Mary had left and caused others to weep uncontrollably for the sensation of spiritual peace that they felt in their few, fleeting minutes with the nun. An excellent surgical and critical care nurse, Sr. Mary had a Masters degree in nursing. Some in the hospital thought eventually the Sisters would promote Sr. Mary to either the board of directors or to the hospital's executive management. Everyone at St. Johns loved Sr. Mary. Something she always said was that "nothing was inevitable but the will of God." She was about to find out what that actually meant. Office of the Nurse Manager, Surgical Services St. John of God Medical Center, Joplin, Mo. Monday, 5AM Jan Courtney, RN sat behind her desk, her face in her hands. She felt sick and she didn't know what to do though she really did. She just did not want to face up to the duty she had to do. The duty she had to do was tell her best nurse, Sr. Mary that she would have to work with a new doctor and the new doctor, no offense to monsters, was an absolute monster. ~~~~~~~~~~ On the previous Friday afternoon Courtney got to meet Eli at a reception for doctors and management. Eli was to be a "rainmaker," doing very expensive heart and thoracic surgery on high risk patients; patients who would ordinarily go to Tulsa, Kansas City or Springfield. Five minutes into her first conversation with Eli, Courtney not only knew she didn't like him - she hated him with a passion that bothered her. He was simply, in Courtney's assessment, a perverted, obscene man whom happened to be very gifted in surgery. He was, she angrily mused, an amoral idiot-savant; that or a sociopath. In those first five minutes of conversation Eli propositioned Courtney no fewer that three times. And on the last time, when she politely refused his personality changed very subtly; he seemed to be threatening. But, then again, maybe not. He said, "I always get what I want, even if it means taking it." Then he said, "I bet you have a fat, salty-sweet cunt. I promise I'll taste it and fuck it and then have you suck my cock clean of your cum-slime within out first 30 days working together. You won't be able to resist. It's just a fact. And, oh by the way, you got a sweet ass. I'll take that too if you don't want to give it up. See ya' round the surgery, babe. Monday." Right then and there Courtney didn't know whether to call her husband, a burly welder and a bare knuckle boxer (for fun) who, when he heard the details, would come to the hospital and beat the doctor to within an inch of his life. Or, did she take her complaint to the administration. The doctor had not even done his first surgery here and already there would be a complaint. Courtney got control of herself and moved on to the cluster of orthopedic surgeons eating canapes and pealed, cold boiled shrimp. Courtney noted that they were drinking way to much to operate if they had to. Dr. John Riffen, dipped a shrimp in shrimp sauce and watched as Courtney came over. "Motherfucker hit on you, didn't he Jan?" Riffen asked quietly, his face the usual indecipherable mask. "I see you've gotten to know him John." "Fucker propositioned my wife in terms I don't think I've heard since my first internship rotation at the VA Psych unit." "Uh, I'm sorry John, did you say you heard?" "Yeah," Riffen said, popping another cold, boiled shrimp in his mouth. "Fucker did it right in front of me. When Sherrie informed him she was married to me, fucker wanted to know how Sherrie was in bed and how well she could suck cock. I almost decked him right then and there. Fucker," Riffen added in a malicious half whisper. Eli's Coming "What are we going to do?" Courtney asked quietly and somewhat desperately. "I mean what's it going to be like with him operating? And who's taking his calls?" "What to do about him, short of having him killed, I got no idea at the moment." He added, "But I'm working on it. "Morgan and Lockley are taking his call and for them to do that I suspect that a large amount of money is changing hands. He brought his own fucking gas passer; Harry...something Jewish. We'll just have to wait and see how well he plays with others." Just then the Vice President for Medical Affairs came over to Courtney and Riffen. "John, may I have a moment of Jan's time, please." Riffen popped another shrimp in his mouth and motioned for the V.P. and Courtney to go somewhere else; he could care less. His gaze was firmly fixed on Eli who was now standing in the midst five ICU nurses. They looked to be having a good time. Riffen shook his head in disgust and turned toward the buffet table for more shrimp and some fresh crab Rangoon that had been put out. "Jan, how are things tonight? Have you had a chance to talk to our new chest cutter." Not wanting to disappoint, as it was the V.P. who recruited Eli, Courtney lied. "No, I really haven't had the chance." "Well, let me call him over..." "That's all right Mike, I, uh, have to hit the ladies' room." "Well, okay..." For the rest of the night she was able to avoid both the Medical Affairs V.P. and Dr. Benjamin. ~~~~~~~~~~ Courtney looked at the clock on her desk: 5:55AM. Rooms were being prepped, patients were being retrieved from the nursing floors and prepped in the pre-op area. The O.R. was coming to life. Jan Courtney desperately wanted a cigarette and was on the verge of heading outside when her worst fear for Monday morning popped her head in Courtney's office. At 6:15AM, Sister Mary popped her head inside Courtney's office. "You wanted to see me, Chief?" "Sister Mary, yeah. Please sit down." "Gee, what's with this 'Sister Mary' stuff? Am I in trouble?" Sr. Mary asked as she sat on the couch in Courtney's office. "I'm sorry Maggie. It's just that I have to do something I don't want to do this morning. In fact," Courtney tried to joke, "I've thought about waking Father Harter up and confessing." "Oh wow, this must be bad. You know you need to be a Catholic to confess, though I'm sure Fr. Harter would be glad to hear whatever you need to get off your chest. In fact, I'd listen. Or...is that why I'm here?" "No, Maggie, well, actually you are here for an, uh, an assignment and I'm..." Before Courtney could finish her apology and explain the situation, Eli popped his head in the door. "So, Mother/Nurse Manager Creature," Eli called all senior nurses "mother," "is this the top flight nurse that can keep up with me while keeping her tits out of my surgical field?" Courtney felt ashamed and violently angry at the surgeon while feeling like crying for putting Sr. Mary with this obscene heart surgeon. Courtney swallowed everything, took a deep breath and smiled an almost genuine smile. "Yes, Dr. Benjamin," Courtney said, gesturing toward Sr. Mary, with her almost genuine smile, "she's my best girl. She'll keep up admirably." "And..." Eli had a bizarrely charming smile on his face, looking between Courtney and Sr. Mary. He was waiting for Courtney to say, "And she'll keep her tits out of your surgical field." Courtney's thin veneer of civility almost crumbled as Eli kept trying to get her to say the "tit phrase," when he suddenly and completely switched gears on the Nurse Manager. He stepped fully into the office, took Sr. Mary's hand and shook it professionally. "She's just a little bit in awe of me," tilting his head toward Courtney. "Mordecai Elijah Benjamin, M.D., Fellow, American College of Surgeons, Board Certified Chest Cutter and world renown heart surgeon, at your service ma'am. "You, pretty nurse person, can call me Eli if it strikes your fancy or Dr. Benjamin or Dr. Benjamin who walketh upon the waters, but I get really torqued if you call me an asshole within the first 24 hours of our association. "You see, I firmly believe that you have to know a person 24 hours before you can label them a bastard and an asshole. Although you may call me a rake and a roue anytime within the next four hours and I'll like it. I am a rake and roue par excellence. You've been warned my dear." His smile was charming, his eyes bright; he radiated confidence and charisma. Sr. Mary's smile was genuine and warm as she returned the hand shake. "I'll keep that in mind, um, Eli." "Good. Now has the Nurse Mother over there," again tilting his head toward Courtney, "told you of your supreme assignment?" Sr. Mary almost laughed, "Um, no, not yet." "Well I am here to take you away from the drudgery of having to do anymore endoscopic gall bladders, broken bones, artificial hips, what have you – the stuff for lesser surgeons – and do high risk chest cases with me. You, my lady, are to be my assistant when I operate. "Now come with me and let's prepare for our first case, a 76 year old dairy farmer from a place you call Nev-A-da but that is clearly spelled like the state of Nevada, who needs some new coronary arteries but whose aorta and right coronary is absolutely shot to hell. But we, well, I, am going to save him to milk old bossy once again." Eli held out his hand again and Sr. Mary took it. He pulled her, with a gentlemanly panache, off the sofa. As Sr. Mary went out in front of Eli, Eli turned back to Courtney, who was positively livid, and did a "Groucho Marx" with his eyebrows – above a smile that Courtney decided was manifestly evil. Courtney decided she would have shot him if she had a gun. Jan Courtney felt like she had just fed a Christian to a lion; a hungry lion at that. But Eli's first day in surgery – the dairy farmer, an 82 year old farmer's wife who needed a whopping five bypasses and a morbidly obese, brittle diabetic college teacher who needed his right femoral artery bypassed all went without incident. Whenever Courtney checked on the operating room or asked Sr. Mary how things were going, things were going "great." The rest of Eli's first week went "great." Either the topic of Sr. Mary's being a nun never came up or Eli was interested in other quarry from the ICU. The third Friday after Eli started to operate with Sr. Mary by his side was the beginning of several ends for Eli and Sr. Mary. Trauma Bay 12 St. John of God Medical Center Friday, 2:35 PM "Where you at Mags?" Eli asked over his cell phone on the 18th green at the Briarbrook Golf Club. "I'm in Trauma 12. It's Dr. Coogan. Ultrasound is showing a huge dissecting aneurysm in his aorta." "Is he still conscious?" "Yes, but he's scared and in quite a bit of pain." "Cool him out, Mags. Give him five of Versed slow IV push, 100 of Demerol also slow IV push, get him on a vent and get his ass up to my O.R. Harry will be up in a few minutes to get him prepped. I'll be there in, oh, 20 or 30 minutes. I gotta putt for par and take this fuckin' guinea lawyer's money." "Yes sir." Sr. Mary liked Eli's crude panache. She did as she was told with a smile and an urgency that the situation demanded. Webb City Attorney Dean Goteri was Eli's golf partner. He missed his final putt and all Eli had to do was make par and collect $300 from the good attorney. Eli had paid most of his way through college and med school as a golf hustler. The attorney had the vague feeling he'd been hustled but he let it pass. Eli headed for the hospital to fix Dr. Gerald Coogan's dissecting abdominal aortic aneurysm. Meanwhile, back in Trauma 12, Sr. Mary and a couple of E.R. Nurses pushing Dr. Coogan's bed were met at the cardio-thoracic surgical suite by Dr. Harry Rosenberg, Eli's anesthesiologist's since they did their cardio- thoracic residency in Houston with DeBakey at Baylor. Thanks to some excellent surgery and, possibly, the uber ego of Eli Benjamin, Dr. Gerald Coogan, M.D., a 50'ish Internist, survived the surgery and eight weeks later was back doing half days in his office. His type of malady would never have survived a trip to any of the big regional med centers, and in point of fact, Eli felt the need to yell, repeatedly and loudly during the final hour of the surgery. It must have been old hat to Harry but the rest of the crew were shocked. "Come on, Jerry! You ain't fucking up my record by dying on me! No sir! Forget going to the fuckin' light! You come to me! Not the light! Me! Come to ME! NOW, MOTHERFUCKER! Come to ME!" It was the most incredible thing that anyone in the O.R. had ever seen. Eli's face was practically purple while he was yelling at Dr. Coogan but as soon as the situation stabilized Eli was as cool as a cucumber, snapping his chewing gum, as he had been the whole time in surgery. Sr. Mary wanted to know more; she was attracted, in an odd – and very platonic way - to Eli. Ten minutes later Eli closed Gerald Coogan's abdomen and told the circulating nurse to send Dr. Coogan to ICU with Eli's standard post op orders. Eli departed to the doctor's locker room to finish his paperwork and write more orders. ~~~~~~~~~~ Sr. Mary thought she was a member in Eli's exclusive heart surgery club. O.R. Six was the clubhouse and Eli was a wonderful and talented surgeon. What neither she, nor Jan Courtney knew was that Eli was being nice because he had been fucking the ICU nurses he was with at the reception. He also found an assistant vice president for nursing services who shared his passion for the Marquis de Sade and his sexual practices. But four of the five nurses got frightened when Eli wanted to push the envelop so Eli was down to only two women he was fucking and playing with. He wanted more. What Eli did not know, until he ran into her on the Surgical floor in her habit as she was doing Pastoral Care rounds that Maggie or "Mags," as he liked to call her was a nun. Eli looked at Sr. Mary in a new light, thinking to himself that his role model, de Sade, would just shit knowing Eli was about to force and debauch a nun and enslave her. This was Eli's plan and he was very excited. He'd take her and break her and always have a mostly unwilling playmate that he could mentally and physically abuse. He almost called Bekkah, the nurse that got him black balled, to thank her for his good fortune. Sr. Mary quietly slipped into the doctor's lounge after Dr. Coogan's surgery and sat on a bench opposite Eli. Eli looked up, snapping his chewing gum. He glanced at her over his reading glasses and then went back to the paperwork. "Something on your mind, Mags?" Sr. Mary smiled, put her chin in her palms, elbows on her knees and her feet pigeon-toed. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone yell at a patient not to go toward the light." Eli looked up from his paperwork then quickly looked back down. "I do it from time to time. Depends on how bad the case is. Coogan was definitely seeing the light; I can tell these things. I just urged him to come back, that's all. "I imagine that bothers you, you being a Christ whore and all that." Sr. Mary was stunned. "Uh, excuse me, did you just call me a Christ whore?" Eli looked up and away from Sr. Mary, pulling at his lower lip as if deep in thought. "Um, yeah. Yes, I did. But because you're so good I haven't made an issue out of it. Good surgical nurses are hard to find and despite your predilection for being a whore for your Christ and not me, I like operating with you." "Why do you blaspheme?" Sr. Mary asked quietly and very seriously. "Uh, Mags, Mordecai Elijah Benjamin...Jewish...at least genetically. Remember, Mel Gibson and a whole bunch of other folks before him, called us "Christ killers" because we went with the Jewish national terrorist rather than the Galilean mystic when Pilate wanted to cut someone loose, as was his habit, for Passover. Started a Crusade or two, at least, as I recall from my liberal arts training. "But hey, I get the Evangelicals all worked up telling them I really am from the lost tribe of Benjamin. Shit, I can earn a couple of bills a day in a crowd of Evangelicals just having my picture taken. "I was down to Dallas last year." Eli adjusted how he was sitting. "Some big church blowout was going on in the same building as some medical meeting I was attending. Harry and I cleaned up on the rubes. "Some, fat, sweaty guy, who I could tell just by the color of his nose and surrounding skin needed at least four new coronary arteries, had Harry take my picture with this guy and his wife. "And I'm sure they went home and," Eli switched to a rube, southern accent, "this guy says to his friends, 'Lookee here. Me and Alice got our picture took with a real Jew-boy. Yeah. Right there in Dallas no less. I guess they're everywhere.' "And the couple, they're showing the picture to a man, one of their church friends probably. He's shaking his head in agreement and he says, 'Me and Thelma was down to Branson and I think we saw a couple there. Course, they were the Jesus believein' kind cause we saw 'em at The Passion Play.'" Sr. Mary's mind was off balance and swimming with the shock of Eli's relentless cold, mean spiritedness. She'd never been called a whore, a Christ whore at that. Before she could say anything else Eli started talking again. "Tell me something. I ask purely out of clinical curiosity. Really." "Um, okay," Sr. Mary said rather shakily thinking that maybe the conversation would turn rational and polite. "I understand the Christ Whore organization," what Eli referred to Holy Orders of nuns, "has had to lower it's standards and take non-virgins to bolster its number of nuns. Is that true?" Sr. Mary didn't know what to say and before she could say anything intelligible Eli cut back in. "Are you a virgin?" "Ye-yes. Yes I am." "Ah come on, you're shitting me!" Eli said with amusement and disbelief in his voice. "In 2006 you are a virgin. You're what, 24, 25?" "34." "Wow, you look very young. Nice skin," Eli muttered as he appraised her open, almost oval shaped face and elegant throat more closely. "But come on, come on, confess - pun intended," Eli sounded like he was joking with a friend. "You never played the little game with your sister Catholic whores-to-be when you were a kid, you know, stick a pencil up your twat to see who had the biggest one?" Sr. Mary felt her face flush hot; partly from anger and partly from embarrassment. She answered with a very clipped, "No." "No shit! Well, I'll be goddamn! But," with a look of excitement flashing across his face he asked, "in prep school, no Bill Clinton-style non-sex? You know, you didn't suck any of the big one eyed snakes?" Sr. Mary's face felt hotter and she felt tears welling up but she'd be damned if she let this obscene, hateful man make her cry. "No." "Hmmm," Eli looked at her more closely, judging her last answer for truth. She felt her body pull into itself defensively. She averted her eyes and wiped a tear from her hot cheek. "Okay, okay, final question: No Catholic school girl missionary sex?" "What's that?" Sr. Mary half whispered, her voice trembling and cracking from the pent up tears that she wanted to flood her face and somehow hide herself or at least get Eli to take pity on her and stop his verbal assault. "Aw, Sr. Mary, tut-tut. Catholic school girl sex is where the guy fucks your ass and thereby preserves your virginity - and also helps prevent pregnancy on the first date." Sr. Mary could not believe Eli's out and out lewdness. She started to leave, started to get up off the bench but then turned on Eli who held a childish look of glee on his face. "You know, Dr. Benjamin it may surprise you to know that I never saw a real penis until Anatomy and Physiology class in nursing school and it was on a cadaver of a 63 year old man." "Uh-oh," Eli was clearly mocking, "Now I've gone and done it. You called me Dr. Benjamin and I sense a certain degree of hurt in your voice and posture." He sounded so genuine - at least Sr. Mary wanted to hear him that way. Maybe he was going to apologize. Maybe. But when you feel that you can will people to life just by yelling at them on the operating table it isn't often you apologize to anyone for anything. But all the doctor did was over dramatically 'tsk' and then with amazing speed - at least so judged Sr. Mary - Eli pulled her from her bench and onto her knees in front of him and between his legs. She let out a small, surprised squeal; that was all she could do. She found herself inches from and starring at Eli's crotch and she didn't know where to look so she closed her eyes, tightly. "Uh-huh, Sister," Eli said as he savagely hauled her head back by a handful of her hair, "time to have a little education that you seemed to have missed in your formative years." Sr. Mary opened her eyes and looked up at Eli's face. She really couldn't see much, her eyes were full of tears. In a small, frightened voice, she begged, "Please don't do this. Please." "Awwww, Sr. Mary, tsk-tsk and tut-tut. Save your begging for when things really get interesting. My cock in your mouth is nothing compared to what we're going to do later. I, Mordecai Elijah Benjamin, am going to make a woman out of you. My big cock up your allegedly virgin cunt of yours...well, you're either going to love it or hate it but you are going to know what it feels like to have a cock inside your belly and ass." Eli let loose of her hair and she bowed her head and really let loose her tears. She should have moved. As Sr. Mary was sobbing Eli was pulling his scrub pants and underwear down to his ankles. Sr. Mary didn't notice. With his hand back in her hair (and his other hand holding his erection) he guided her mouth to his cock head. When she opened her eyes this time she immediately shut them, pressed her lips shut and shook her head 'no' as best she could with the grip his hand on her hair. "Oh no, my beautiful little Christ whore. Open wide and take the head of my cock - clinically known as the glans - in that tight little mouth of yours or I'm afraid Sister Mary Kevin might take a fall down the South stairs. You wouldn't want to be responsible for little, frail Sister Mary Kevin getting hurt, would you?" Sr. Mary sobbed loudly, sobbing in one long syllable, "NOOOOOOO." "Then I'm going to take my hand out of your soft hair and you, because you want to help Sister Mary Kevin, are going to show me how well you can suck cock for the very first time. And if you bite me...well, that's going to be very ugly for you and your fellow sisters. Understand?" Sr. Mary nodded her head vigorously, her face contorted in horror. Sr. Mary opened her mouth and Eli guided the head of his cock into her mouth. Pre-cum was copiously dripping from the head, a fact that pleased Eli immensely. Some went in her mouth, some went down her chin. It was hot and salty to taste but very slick; her mouth watered in response to the foreign object and she drooled down her chin. Her tongue licked his urethra and more shot out onto her tongue. To her credit she did not gag but managed, after a short time to swallow. Eli started to pump the shaft of his cock while gently pressing on the back of Sr. Mary's head. Eli came quickly but not in her mouth. With a groan – and extremely reluctantly - he pulled his cock from her mouth and shot his sperm over the lower half of her face and the upper part of her chest, soaking her scrub top. Sr. Mary again bowed her head and wept softly; Eli's seed smeared on her lips, down her chin and onto her chest. She felt ruined and violated and helpless before this blaspheming man. Eli's Coming Eli was standing. His erection softening until it lay on top of Sr. Mary's hair, down the center part of her brown hair. Eli bent sideways and looked at his victim. "I am going to check on Dr. Coogan in CVICU," Eli said matter-of-factly as he pulled up his pants. "You, listen very carefully, you are going to remove your scrub top and bra and put them in my locker. I like souvenirs; I've never bagged a nun before," he hesitated in thought, "well, not an avowed virgin nun before. Anyway, get a surgical gown on. You will wear the surgical gown to your car and drive to my house out on Shoal Creek, you know, the Castle above Reddings Mill. You should remember the health of Sister Mary Kevin. Understand, Mags?" Sr. Mary nodded yes and Eli laughed as he slapped his softening penis across Sr. Mary's forehead a couple of times. Sr. Mary closed her eyes tightly and wished for this all to be over. When she opened her eyes they were vacant; the tears gone, more or less. She was thinking of Sr. Mary Kevin, a spry 78 year old nun that had helped Sr. Mary Magdalena learn "the ropes" in the Sisters of Mercy. She couldn't allow her to be hurt. The Residence of Dr. Benjamin The Castle at Reddings Mill Friday, 7:30PM Sr. Mary rang the bell. Eli was at the door almost immediately. "What took you so...oh. My bad. I should have told you not to wash your hair." Eli took her by the chin with one hand and turned her head slowly in the porch light. "And, damn it! I should have told you not to wash your face either. Oh well, you are here and that's what's important. Come in." Sr. Mary stepped into the foyer of the Castle, so named because a zinc mining baron at the turn of the 20th century had built his home to look like a castle, complete with a tower and what much later would be a perfect dungeon. It was all made of native stone. "Here's the deal, Mags. I am going to deflower your cunt and ass and you are going to be a live-in slave for my personal enjoyment. Clear enough?" Sr. Mary could hardly talk. She asked with as much malice she could muster, "And what of my life with the Congregation and my work as a nurse?" "Here, follow me." And they set off down a spiral stair case. "About your work, you will be my surgical assistant. About your life as a Christ whore, well, I'll leave the details to you on how you'll handle that situation. Just remember what kind of man I am and that you love your other sister whores." They stepped into a large room with a low ceiling. Sr. Mary stopped and her breath caught. At the far end of the room was a Tau cross, the kind the Romans' liked to use for execution. Along the walls either side of the cross were various pieces of unrecognized furniture or equipment and things hanging on the walls – some of which where recognizable. "This, Mags, is my playroom. What do you think? Notice the cross, hmmmm? As soon as I deflower you I'm putting you up there. Notice the seat?" Sr. Mary saw something that resembled an erect penis midway down the shaft of the cross." "That goes up inside you. There's a smaller horn behind it that fits in your ass. Don't worry. By the time I put you on your Master's cross both your cunt and ass will be wide open and raw. It may even feel comfortable to you. "Sister Mary, do you know what I am, aside from what you think of me?" In a half whisper, "No." "I'm a true sadist." "So, there's not going to be any 'safe, sane and consensual' with you then?" Eli looked surprised. "You know safe, sane and consensual?" "Yes." "Pray, where or how? You're not holding out on me are you? You really aren't a virgin, that sort of thing?" "I wasn't always a surgical nurse. I used to work E.R. There was a young woman who came in D.O.A. one night. She had been strangled during sex. She had the phrase tattooed above her right breast. Her partner came in; he had to go the psych ward. He kept saying, over and over, 'She never gave the safe word.' The whole thing made a very big impression on me. I learned a little about that life...and then I applied for a job as a surgical nurse." Eli laughed and to Sr. Mary's ears it sounded as the laughing rebuke of the Devil himself. "You went to surgery right after that to avoid dealing with conscious, live people and their problems. How many hail Mary's did you have to say to clear that one up?" There was a long pause, "I've never confessed that sin. You're the only one, that I know of, who has guessed my motives." "How utterly delightful! Well, enough talk. Come here! Now!" Eli's voice went from laughing/taunting to commanding and sinister in a heartbeat. Sr. Mary jumped and obediently and promptly went to him. "You're trembling. I like that. You don't really want to lose your virginity do you because you know the way to punish a sadist is to enjoy what he does to you." Sr. Mary was staring down intently at her surgical togs. "I wish I could say so convincingly." Eli smiled to himself; he had not had such an emotionally brittle victim/lover since he had a ripe graduate nurse five years back. "God, you stupid bitch, you could try lying." "No, I couldn't." Sr. Mary whispered, her voice seeming to diminish with the rise of her fear. From the point that Eli ripped the surgical gown open and off her and she felt his hands on her breasts, breasts only she and her doctor had touched she went into emotional shock. She didn't even try to cover herself or fend off his touches and squeezes. It was time for Eli to be stunned. Sr. Mary, naked to the waist, her arms limply at her sides, was – beautiful. Her breasts modest but full with large nipples surrounded by larger areolas. Her belly not concave but ever so slightly nicely rounded. Her ass, from what he could tell of her in her scrub pants was classically heart shaped. While Eli was experiencing sensory overload, Sr. Mary's shock had already overloaded. Her memory of this night, thankfully, would be in pieces and hazy. She remembered things as if they were snippets of a movie that she was watching and being in at the same time. ~~~~~~~~~~ Her first memory after the touching was being on her knees in bed. Her chest lay flat on the bed. Her nipples and her large areolas felt the rough scratchiness of the blanket as she moved and they pressed to the bed. She could feel the cold metal of the handcuffs on her wrists resting in the small of her back. Then fingers on her sex lips. His fingers. Probing, prodding. "Plllleeeeaaaassseee, don't do this. I won't tell. I won't tell, please. I swear on all that is Holy that I won't tell! Dear God, I promise. I...please. Don't do this!" She screamed. Something cold touched her sex lips. "Easy there, Mags. I am actually showing you some mercy; taking pity on you if you want to think of it that way. You know, if it helps get you through. I'm lubing you up a bit since it appears that your god has forgotten about you. Where the fuck is he, anyway? Why's he gonna let me do bad things to you? You know, I swear, if I didn't want the feel of your virgin cunt, I'd stick you on the cross and play with your tits a while. Nice tits, Mags." ~~~~~~~~~~ Still kneeling on the bed. Still pleading. Hands on her hips and then she feels his penis shallowly penetrating her lips. Teasing. "My God has NOT abandoned me to you!!!!" she shrieked. "HE HAS NOT!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, shaking with a deep fury inside and then sotto voce she was back to pleading, "Please. Please. Before it's too late. Please let me go. Please don't do this thing to me. I won't tell. I can keep secrets. Please." "Oh, I bet you have some very juicy secrets. You'll have to tell them to me sometime." She screams as he presses the length of his penis into her, pulling back on her hips to get fully inside her. Even though she was 34 she had the small remnants of her hymen. She feels the skin tear lightly. She is fully violated; her defilement is complete. She quits struggling, quits pleading and simply sobs. ~~~~~~~~~~ She feels his penis moving back and forth inside her. The rhythm varies from fast to slow to fast again. He leers something that chills her to her soul and makes her plead even more: "You know, Christ Whore, even though I lubed you up, your labia was fat and sticky. "I do believe you are likely ovulating, if I remember my OB/GYN rotation when I was just a newbie doctor. And since I am riding bareback, you'll stand an excellent chance to be with child after tonight. To abort or not to abort, that is the question!" He taunts. ~~~~~~~~~~ Time has long since lost any meaning for Sr. Mary. Her shoulders and arms ached from being handcuffed behind her back. She has no idea how long it has been since her violation. But suddenly there is a strange feeling stirring in her belly and upper thighs. At first it feels as if she has to pee. Despite her torment she worries about wetting the bed. She coughs and then makes a muffled moan into the bed. The feeling intensifies and goes from feeling the need to pee to a tingling warmth. It feels good. She gulps for air and coughs. The feeling of pleasure intensifies. She grunts in time to his thrusts. Eli laughs; the laugh of a demon but...Sr. Mary is drawn back to the pleasure that is building between her legs and in her belly. She subconsciously focuses on the intensity of the feeling. When Eli feels the contractions of her cunt begin he laughs loudly; his delight is horrific, mocking and bitterly triumphant. "Jesus H. Christ! Not only have I taken your cherry and knocked you up but I made you cum! GOD DAMN!" She blocks Eli's taunts. She is consumed by the now radiating pleasure in her belly and thighs and moving up to her breasts. She wants the pressure of the scratchy blanket on her nipples. She wants it now. She wiggles her hips and pushes back fully on Eli's penis. This brings another string of obscenity filled ridicule from Eli. Maybe she is all that he calls her. Oh. God. The pleasure, like a drug. Oh, God. ~~~~~~~~~~ Pain. Intense pain cuts the haze in her brain. Her upper body is jerked off the mattress. Eli has a tight grip on her hair. Her back is bowed and occasionally her belly makes contact with the scratchy blanket. Eli has jerked her upper body off the mattress, solely by gripping her hair. For the first time in her life she notices the pleasure of her breasts swaying freely away from her body. He is taking his pleasure. Sr. Mary is oblivious to what is about to happen as her mind tries to balance the pain in her head with the pleasure welling up in her belly again. ~~~~~~~~~~ She lets out a long moan; wiggles her hips again and pushes back until her bottom touches his belly. A surrender? She wants him to defile her completely, not that he hasn't already? His thrusts slow, he unleashes another string of obscenities and ridicule. In the tightness of her sex she feels his penis expand inside her. It jerks a number of times. She coughs, then wiggles and pushes back again. The Pleasure together with the pain. Is that his seed he is filling her belly with? She'll be pregnant. A life is in her belly now. How strange to think that one would be a virgin all their life and now, in a moment, she is probably carrying the seed of life within her. ~~~~~~~~~~ Upright on her knees. Bathed in sweat and panting hard. Her hair hangs down in her eyes and she makes no attempt to brush it back, not that she can. Metal still around her wrists and against the small of the back. She interlaces her fingers and feels the wet sweat between them. Her shoulders are so terribly tired from being cuffed so long but...she likes the pain? My God, is she a whore? Is this the way a whore feels? She can feel moistness running down her thighs. It feels good. Oh, God, it feels so good! She is momentarily ashamed in her thoughts. But the sweat dripping from her nose onto the flat of her chest above the swell of her breasts brings her back to the sensations coursing through her ravished body. Eli is saying something but she is not hearing. She only concentrates on what is happening; the sensations. She feels open and raw between her legs; obscene and yet so very much alive in the sensations of the moment. She gags. Eli has taken her by the hair again and shoves his partially erect penis in her mouth. She licks then sucks clumsily at first and then with more certainty, more experience. He presses his penis in again. To the back of her throat. Another gag then it is sliding freely in her mouth. Salty slickness mixed with a metallic taste. Her blood? His semen? ~~~~~~~~~~ "Go home! Remember your whoring old sisters! LEAVE!" She's completely disoriented. Standing beside the bed, naked. Eli's voice is irritated and strained. Clothes hit her face. She reaches out to grab them and realizes she is no longer shackled. She puts on the over sized tee shirt and jeans he threw at her. "LEAVE! Damn you!" As Sr. Mary pulls on the jeans she looks up. There is someone else in the room. Mother of God! Is she hallucinating? She looks to Eli. He is nude and breathing heavily. He is dripping with sweat. She looks to the other...man? He's very tall. Even though he is just the other side of the bed he is difficult to see. Barefoot, the jeans too big for her, she drops them to the floor and runs for the door in nothing but the tee shirt. She has to get out. ~~~~~~~~~~ Mordecai Elijah Benjamin's bedroom Friday, Near Midnight "Is a heart attack justice for the defilement of one of My children?" The voice was deep and seemed to be coming from everywhere at once even though the speaker, the man, was standing next to the bed. It had just the slightest hint of malice in it. "Wha...? Who the fuck are you and how'd you get in my bedroom?!" Eli demanded between pants as he gripped his chest, the pain running into his left arm. The man laughed. And Eli, for the first time he could remember, was afraid now for his very soul. "Mordecai, Mordecai, don't ever let it be said that I do not allow free will. And just so you'll know," the volume of the man's voice was rising and as it did so the pain in Eli's chest increased until he thought he could not bear it, "I did NOT abandon my child to the puny likes of you. I am the Great I Am of your forefathers; the God of Abraham, Issac and Jacob; the God of Israel; the Shekinah Glory. Attend My words Mordecai, lest I forget to show you mercy. "She has been my faithful child all her life. You served My purpose; that's all. Now, how to reward you..." Missouri Route 86 near Reddings Mill Friday, Near Midnight "Mary, Mary, stop and do not be afraid." In the full moon Mary could make out the features of a woman with a hypnotically soothing voice. Behind the woman were two men, one of whom she thought she had seen in Eli's bedroom. Mary staggered slightly; the breeze blew between her thighs and she realized she was essentially naked save for the tee shirt. She was in emotional shock and her body had been used like it had never been used before; she ached and was exhausted. She wanted to lie down but she was still frightened about Eli and about this strange trio that confronted her. "Who are you?" Sr. Mary asked in a trembling voice. "We Are, They said in one voice. "You have served Us well all these many years and now We have put you through a terrible discipline but it is so that you will be able to take care of a girl that will come to you in two months time, pregnant and abused. She will seek Our comfort and you will be the conduit through which We provide it to her." The man from Eli's house spoke; his voice smooth, deep, it seemed to wrap her body in comfort. Sr. Mary surprisingly found she was no longer afraid; she felt at perfect peace in the presence of these three strangers on the road. And then it dawned on her - unless she was hallucinating from Eli's rape and sodomy - she was in the presence of the Holy Trinity. Even though she was still at peace she let loose a small squeal and fell to her knees, making them bleed on the rough pavement, and making the sign of the cross. The man (the Father?) spoke again as the woman (the Holy Ghost?) reached down to Sr. Mary to help her up, "Please Mary, arise. We are family. "Mordecai Elijah Benjamin has had a certain, um, experience." (Sr. Mary thought she detected a very dry note of humor in his voice.) There is an ambulance on its way. He will live. He is the father of the child that will grow in your womb. "If you choose to forgive him, I think you will find he is a changed man. He will support you, your child and the Congregation of your sisters." The other man spoke (the Son? The Christ?) continuing the Father's speech. "He may even provide you with the pleasures that you have denied yourself for Our sake now that you have had a bite of the apple, so to speak." Sr. Mary's eyes grew wide and filled with tears as she took in what They were saying. She heard "...But your choices are yours and so many choices there are to chose from. You are Our faithful servant and Our blessed daughter who lives forever and forever in the protection of Our wings..." And then - Sr. Mary fainted. Newton County Deputy Mike Pritchard's cruiser came to a squealing halt. He saw a body lying partially in the road. It was Sr. Mary. At first, given the angle of the body, it appeared the woman was nude but when he got out of his cruiser and ran to the body he realized she was wearing a big tee shirt covering her upper body. And she was alive; moaning and starting to stir. Deputy Pritchard ran back to his cruiser. He called for a second ambulance – he was responding to the ambulance called for the Castle – and got a blanket from the trunk and covered her bare legs and hips. Just as suddenly as she had fainted, in the presence of the Trinity, Sr. Mary sat bolt upright and stared at Deputy Pritchard. She looked at him with a look of fear and panic. "Are you a policeman?" she asked in a trembling half-whisper. "Yes, ma'am, I am. Have you been injured?" Sr. Mary averted her eyes from the deputy; she felt so ashamed. "I've been raped. Please, I want to go to the hospital. St. John's; I work at St. John's." "Sure thing, ma'am. Uh, beyond your assault are you hurt? I could take you in my cruiser if you thought it would be okay. Otherwise there's an ambulance on the way." "Could we go in your car, please?" the tremble left her voice but she still spoke in a half-whisper. She didn't know why. She was not going to tell anyone who had raped her. She asked for a second blanket and the deputy was quick to respond. Now, a blanket over her head and shoulders and one around her waist, in the moonlight she may have looked a lot like the virgin Mary on the road to Bethlehem – except there was no swelling in Sr. Mary's belly yet. Trauma Bay 1 St. John of God Medical Center Emergency Room Saturday, 2AM When Sr. Mary arrived at the E.R. she was not alone. The 10 nuns of the Congregation of the Sisters of Mercy were all waiting. Sr. Mary Kevin was in the vanguard immediately followed by the Congregation's prioress,Reverend Mother Mary Danica. The youngest nun, after Sr. Mary Magdalena, in the Congregation's house was 54 years old. The oldest was 82. They were all there and flocked around Sr. Mary as if a protective flock of geese were protecting a gosling. Sr. Mary was stunned beyond words. When she finally could speak she asked, "How did you know I was coming here?" "We all were visited by an angel who said you were injured and that you would be bearing a child. The angel said to come immediately so here we are." The nuns were giddy with excitement: they had been visited by the Angel of the Lord. Eli's Coming Sr. Mary kept her encounter with the Trinity to herself. The excitement of the nuns was quickly broken. They all heard a man crying. In between sobs the man moaned plaintively, "I can't see, I can't see." They went to investigate since all the sisters worked at the hospital. Meanwhile, having a nun raped in one's jurisdiction can be a dicey proposition for a sheriff running for re-election. Deputy Pritchard promptly called the Newton County Sheriff who arrived at St. John's E.R. with at least half the Newton County Sheriff's SWAT team. The Sheriff had set up roadblocks around Reddings Mill, at the Jasper County line going into Joplin and at the McDonald County line. The Sheriff thought God forbid that the rapist made it to the wilds of McDonald county... The Sheriff was as disappointed as the nuns of the Congregation were surprised when he asked Sr. Mary to name or describe her attacker. "I can't. God told me He would take care of it. I'm sorry Sheriff, I have to go with God. You know, via con Dios?" Sr. Mary said with her usual aplomb suddenly back and intact. "Of course Sheriff, I can appear in your re-election ads about the excellent care you have shown me." "Well, all right," the Sheriff said tentatively, not at all pleased. Shortly thereafter the SWAT team went home and the roadblocks were taken down. The E.R. doc insisted that Sr. Mary stay the night for observation. ICU Bed 6 St. John of God Medical Center Saturday, Around 4:40AM "Is your sight any better?" Her voice was soft, as full of comfort as she could make it. "Mags? That you?" "Yes, Eli, it's me." "Was that who I thought it was back at the Castle?" Eli asked in a hushed, half frightened voice. "If you thought it was God Almighty, yes, I think so. I think Scripture refers to Him when He's among us as the Angel of the Lord but...yeah." "I'm still blind as a bat. And, I guess I've got three..." "...You've got four...," Sr. Mary interrupted. "...Four stents. Will you forgive me?" "Why?" Her voice suddenly was harder. "What's the right answer, Mags?" Eli turned away from Sr. Mary even though he really didn't have a fix on her position. "He's a scary guy, your...master. I never believed all the bullshit and then here He is in my bedroom giving me a heart attack. When I got nasty and told this guy in my bedroom to fuck off He struck me blind. Suddenly I got the picture of the first born of the Egyptians dying as He passed by. And I told Him to shut the fuck up." Sr. Mary smiled until it hurt; the same old Eli. Even though he had come face to face with God Himself he still told God to fuck off. "He said something to me. He said if I forgave you I might find you a changed man. You'd take care of me and the sisters and the child in my belly with your chromosomes. "Was I," Sr. Mary lowered her voice, embarrassed by what she wanted to ask, "was I, uh, you know, any good, Eli?" "G-good? How so?" "When you violated me; was, ah, my flesh pleasing to you?" There was a long pause. She saw his face contort and then a tear roll down his cheek. "I'm not sure what you wanna hear, Mags. The truth or something that makes you feel good." Sr. Mary steeled herself – she wanted the truth but she wanted the truth to be that she was good; that he enjoyed her for more reasons than she was a virgin Catholic nun. She wasn't at all sure of what he thought would "make her feel good." "Let's go with the truth, Eli. Promise I won't hold it against you." "You were a great piece of virgin ass," Eli said very quietly. "May God strike me blind...oh, wait, uh, may God curse me with frogs." Sr. Mary laughed at Eli's genuine discomfort. "Then you'd want to make an honest woman out of me and show me some more of the apple you forced me to bite into?" "Apple? Apple? Oh. God. You mean my carnal education of you? We are getting Old Testament here aren't we?" "Yeah. That." Without hesitation Eli said, "yes." And his sight immediately returned. He didn't tell her immediately. He turned back toward her. She had showered. Her split lip, that he split, was sutured. Her hair was brushed back from her face and even without makeup she looked beautiful. "And you'd want me? Warts and all? You know, the Big Guy said if you forgave me but it seems like there were other options for you." "Eli, I don't know enough to say I want you but I do forgive you and I am willing to see where this goes if you are." "I think when I decided to say 'yes' to you I got my sight back. So maybe you'll keep me on the straight and narrow and I'll..." "...Keep fucking me?" Eli was stunned but then smiled his usual, smug, smart ass smile. "Yeah. I like the sound of that." Epilogue Two months later, Mary went to working half days in the O.R. and started a crisis pregnancy counseling service. Her first client was an 18 year old girl, abused and made pregnant by her step father. Eight months later Mary, under a special dispensation of Rome, became Mrs. Mordecai Elijah Benjamin. On their honeymoon, she helped Eli get rube Evangelicals to pay $25 a picture of a genuine Jew from the lost tribe of Benjamin. Nine Months and three weeks later, on the verge of having her labor induced by her obstetrician, Mary gave birth to Mordecai Elijah Benjamin the Second. And while Eli dedicated 20 percent of every surgery to the upkeep of the Sisters' house, they made a fair bit of money on their own, showing where the Angel had been and what they were told. Rumor had it that the Pope would visit Joplin and the place where the Angel of the Lord appeared. At the baptism of Mordecai the Second, while the priest tried to accommodate his father's religion by pronouncing "mazle tov," Eli grinned from ear to ear and said "Finest Kind." The priest wasn't sure what to say to that and Mary reached around and pinched Eli the First on the ass. "Eli has to be experienced to be understood," Mary Magdalena du Plessiss-Benjamin said. "Finest kind," she said with a smile, an eyebrow cocked. And the priest intoned the sacred blessing over Mordecai the Second: "Nomini Patri, et fili, et spiritu sanctu. Amen." * Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed it. Please take a moment to vote and send some feedback.