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St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 01

By: Nigel Debonnaire



(This story picks up with characters from "The Vicar of St. Dunstan's" series: the Series Guide will help you keep some of the characters straight. Mother Mary Rufus (now called "La Rossa") and Sister Mary Francis Xavier have been living in Rome for two years after MMR became the international head of her order, and have adjusted well to living at the heart of the Catholic Church. Their lives are about to be changed as an old friend from England comes by for a visit.) 



The sun was blazing through the cloud tufted blue sky. Mid-May was gentle in Rome, and I was taking the siesta period to sunbathe nude on the convent roof with Sister Juliana. She's the only one of the local nuns in residence at the Generalate who's close to my age and interested in the same things I am. Her home is Naples, and her olive skin grows deeper and richer with the sunshine, where the Irish half of my genes means I have to be more careful how long I'm out. It is delicious to feel the sun on my skin; I've enjoyed it in many places after traveling the world as a teenager, since my native England is rather stingy with warm sunny days.

Our bodies are different in build as well. Sister Juliana's body is very soft and slightly plump, with graceful curves that tantalize our groundskeeper Rocco Salvatore as be pretends to trim the hedges in the morning. My body is more athletic, lean and long, although I've been told my hips and breasts are appealing. I flipped over on my back to let the sun soak into every inch of my skin there, while Sister Juliana turned from her left to right side. 

"Sister Franny, how often do you think the Elephant masturbates? I know you pray in the Chapel every night, and a vent from his apartment carries every sound there."

"I would guess once a day, Sister Juli. Sister Agatha says he must have been up to three times a day when he was younger."

"And how would Sister Agatha know?"

"She was his housekeeper when he was at Santa Croce in Firenza. Never caught him at it, but heard enough through the door of his suite, and of course she had to clean up after him."

Sister Juliana sat up quickly, whipping off her sunglasses, and making her heavy breasts bob. "How horrible! Did he soil his bedsheets?"

"No, he had several pairs of white socks he used. Would throw them into the hamper with his undergarments and assumed Sister wouldn't know about the nature of the stains."

"How did Sister Agatha know? She's such a holy, devout person."

"Who grew up with five brothers in the countryside. Take it from me, she knows what crusty old semen looks like."

Shuddering in the warmth, Sister Juliana put her sunglasses back on and laid back, her skin glistening. "From what I saw when we took care of the Elephant during his illness last winter, he's the one who came from a farm. Do all men have cocks his size?"

I shook my head carefully, trying not to dislodge my wimple. "No, the Elephant got his nickname as a boy from the size of his member. Sister Agatha says that's why he became a priest: no woman he's ever met was willing to be impaled by him."

"Oh, my God, protect me from him. He would destroy me," Sister Juliana said, crossing herself.

"Has he made a pass at you?"

"Two days ago, when I was cleaning the Sacristy after Mass. I was bending over to pick up the used purificators, and he placed his hands on either side of my backside. Almost hit him with the linens since I stood up and threw them over my shoulder in surprise, but when I turned around he was smiling at me like I've never seen before, with a glow in his eyes that scared me. He gave me that gruff chuckle that sounds like a dog woofing and stroked my cheek, then he just walked away."

Monsignore Carlo Maria Farinelli was a huge man in many ways. He was almost seven feet tall with dark hair and eyes in spite of his 75 years, with huge ears and nose, gigantic hands with fat fingers, tree trunk legs and a torso that had been muscular in his youth. His voice was a clone of Pavarotti's, but a bad case of stage fright expelled him from the Conservatory and sent him to the Seminary. "Just be sure you don't let him trap you anywhere, Sister Juli. He caught me one night after vespers standing in front of the vestment closet. The Elephant was stalking me."

"Oh my, Sister Franny. What did he do to you?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Well, I did grab one of the Elephant's ears and squeezed as hard as I could. He's been respectful ever since."

"Squeezed his ear? How did you reach that high?"

"I'm not being literal. I grabbed one of his nuts and twisted."

She gave me an unbelieving look, so I pantomimed the male genitalia and demonstrated. Her laughter made her writhe on her couch so much she knocked her wimple off despite the pins holding it in place. Her long black hair was up in a bun. "That would come in handy when we go out to the clubs, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, but only as a last resort." Mother Mary Rufus, the head of our order and supervisor of the house, hadn't found out about our sneaking out to hang out at the sidewalk bars or go dancing at one of the clubs, yet. It's a good way to blow off the steam of convent life, and we enjoy teasing the boys a little, but we stay true to out vows and we are still virgins. Well, literally virgins. . .

My cell phone buzzed at my side and I picked it up: "Pronto."

"Hello, luv. How's life in the Eternal City?"

I shifted onto my side and looked away from my companion. "Just fine, Aunt Mavis. How's Scotland?" I said, switching to English after talking with Sister Juliana in Italian.

"Oh, it's doing just fine, but it's weeping a bit outside since I'm on my way out."

"Out?"

"Yes, luv. I'm leaving Scotland, too bloody cold up here. The babbies are grown enough I can leave them for a bit."

Aunt Mavis isn't literally my aunt, she's from the same parish my mother's family belonged to: St. Dunstan's. She's a huge lady, with dark hair and bundles of energy for a woman in her 60's. When Red and I moved to Rome, she left her husband and went to Scotland to be near one of her daughters. She would be called a wench in another time, good fun and full of wisdom in her own way. "So when are you leaving Scotland?" I asked.

"Oh, they've just called my flight, should be boarding after I ring off with you. Maybe they'll give me a full body search if I'm lucky."

"You've got a different way of calling things lucky. Are you on your way back to England?"

"No, luv, I'm coming to Rome."

"Rome!?!"

"Yes, luv. Always wanted to see you and your mother Barbara ever since you moved there."

I shook my head to clear out the cobwebs. "Why here?"

"I need some warmth Helen, I want to see new places, and I want to talk with you, dearie, now that you've got your hearing back. How long has it been now?"

"Six months, Aunt Mavis."

"Isn't it a miracle what medicine can do these days? Oh, I bet you're thankin' God every day now you can finally hear."

"Yes, Aunt Mavis, it's a miracle, I can hardly believe it myself. What flight are you on?"

"Oh, I've lost my ticket, no, Flight 5731. Gotta run. Be a good gel and meet me at the airport. Bye."

The line went dead before I could say more. Sister Juliana sat up and gave me a look of deep concern. "Who was that?"

"An old friend of La Rossa's and mine. She's coming for a visit."

"Oh, that nice redhaired English woman who smokes cigars? How soon?"

"Later today. No, it's not Mary Sterns, it's Mavis Hazelton. She's getting on the plane now."

"What?"

"Aunt Mavis has always been impulsive. That's what my grandmother always said. She was one of the original Quilting Ladies. . .oh, I haven't told you that story yet. Time to scramble, I've got to find out when she's getting here and sign out a car to pick her up."

"Do you need any help?"

"Ah, we'll need to get the guest suite ready. Not the one by the Elephant, the one by La Rossa's room."

"Will Mother Mary Rufus approve?"

"I know she will, La Rossa always plays it by the book. We'd better get dressed." I jumped up and looked out over the top of roof. Nothing was stirring in the street beyond the walls, and the neighbors' shades were drawn. I took a look at my skin: it was developing a nice honey hue, but I knew it was time to go in. My puffy nipples glistened with the sunblock I'd put on them, and my little red bush was moist from sweat, but otherwise my skinny little 25 year old body was the same as usual.

Sister Juliana was putting on her convent underwear, and pulling on her hose, her movements unusually crisp and purposeful compared to her normal laid back pace. I dressed myself as quickly as I could and we raced to the stairwell that lead to the main part of the Convent.

As I gave La Rossa's door a gentle rap, I heard a splash from within. Bursting through, I made my way to the bathroom where I found my mother, Mother Mary Rufus of the Sisters of St. George, called Red or La Rossa by the Sisters, lounging in a bubble bath. She is still a fantastic looking woman in her mid 40's, with beautiful blonde hair, perfect teardrop breasts and alabaster skin. Giving me a nasty look, she washed some suds from her upper arm and sighed. "All right, Squirt, what's the panic?"

"Aunt Mavis is coming to town."

She gave me a double take, and sat up. "So?"

"She's just now getting on the plane."

Throwing her sponge down with a splash, she seethed. "That's just like her, barging in unannounced. What flight's she on?"

"5731."

"What airline?"

Damn, I thought. I knew there was something I need to ask Mavis before she rung off. "I'll look that up."

"You'd better, Squirt. It'll take her three or four hours to get here, probably longer if she's coming from Scotland. Are you getting the guest suite ready?"

"Juli's working on that."

She gave me a fierce look and gripped the sides of the tub hard. "Oh, you two were sunbathing naked on the roof again."

I put my hands on my hips. "So?"

"I hate it when you give me that attitude you inherited from me. You're just lucky none of the neighbors have complained or Rocco the handyman hasn't been posting pictures of you on the Internet."

"We make sure Rocco's gone, and our roof is the highest point in the area anyway, with walls high enough to hide behind."

"All right, convent life has changed since I was a novice. So I guess you need a car to pick her up?"

I nodded. "All right, sign out the van; Mavis will be coming with a truckload of luggage, and she doesn't fit in cars easily. I'll meet you in a couple of hours to ride out to daVinci with you. Mavis will have a fit if I'm not there to greet her. She'll have to entertain herself tomorrow; I've got to be at the Vatican all day. Get the Elephant to get us tickets to the Papal Audience this Wednesday."

"Can't we go through normal channels?"

"Not on this short notice. Yes, I know he'll want something for it, and you can just give it to him yourself this time. Monsignore Elephant's a pain, I know, but he can come in handy at times like this. At least you can give his right hand a day off; it'll make up for you twisting his balls last month. Yes, I heard about that from multiple sources. Wipe that cheeky grin off your face and get cracking. Since I'm in charge of this circus, I'm going to enjoy what's left of my bath while I can. Scoot!"

When I got back to my monastic cell, the clock said 1530, so I knew I had some time. Checking the flights from the Scottish airports to Rome, I soon discovered what airline Aunt Mavis was on and when it was expected. Knowing her appetite, I texted Sister Agatha to say 2/3 guests were coming for dinner, and a text to Sister Juliana confirmed the guest suite would be ready. 

I took a deep breath and remembered the last task I was assigned. The Elephant was probably still taking his afternoon nap, but it would be better to pay his price at right away than wait until evening. "Always get the dirty work done first," I said to myself in English, and walked resolutely out the door.

The convent at our Generalate holds 15 people: there are five suites on the top floor for the Superior and several guests, 14 small rooms and a large common room on the first floor for me and my Sisters, and the Library, Archives and several sitting rooms occupy the ground floor. A small passageway connects with the rest of the building: the Ground floor has the Kitchen and Laundry, as well as the  hall we use for large gatherings and public receptions, and the Chapel is directly above it, with the Chaplain's apartment connected by a door next to the Sacristy. 

I paused in the Chapel to pray, asking the Biblical Matriarch Tamar to give me strength for the task ahead. When I got up, I sneaked the Oil of the Sick from the Ambry, thinking my task had medicinal value as well as spiritual comfort, and so it would be all right to use it.

Knocking at his apartment as discreetly as I could, I called: "Monsignore? Monsignore Farinelli?"

"Huh?" came the groggy reply.

"It's Sister Mary Francis Xavier."

"Huh? Who are you? What do you want?"

"I need a favor. I need you to get tickets to the Pope for me."

"Tickets? Tickets? What am I, a magician? Am I suppose to produce tickets to the Papal Audience out of thin air? I swear, Job had an easier job than I do here, Solomon has less to do for 900 women he was sleeping with." There was a groan from the floorboards as he stood up. "Don't understand. Why isn't La Rossa here herself?"

"She sent me to ask."

I heard ponderous movement and quivered a bit, but recovered and stood firm. "You know there will be a price?" came the heavy voice close to the door.

"Yes."

"You're a tiny, tiny girl. The Elephant will surely kill you."

"La Rossa told me what the price is. I have nothing to worry about and we both know it."

"You could stretch yourself. . ."

"I will pay the same price Mother La Rossa pays. If you do not accept, she will find out."

There was a sigh from behind the door, which creaked open. The cluttered sitting room reeked of cigars and expensive grappa in spite of Sister Agatha's weekly attentions, and the cleric stood just inside the door wearing a red robe. "Would you like some Grappa before we begin? I just got a shipment from an old friend from Torino yesterday. . ."

"It's too early in the day, and my mother told me to be careful of strange men trying to ply me with liquor."

"Your mother is undoubtedly a wise woman, whoever she is. Very well, I will sit on the couch, but your attitude is hardly, hardly, hardly helpful in paying the price."

"I will take my habit off and let you look at me. Will that be enough?"

"Hmm, that's a start. . ."

"But no touching. I will touch you and that will be it. You know I can deal with you if you go too far."

"Child, you are working against yourself by bringing these memories to my mind. Do you want the tickets for the Papal Audience that my dear old friend Monsignore Guido Scarpelli can provide at a moment's notice?"

"Yes, I do and yes, I know it's a burden. All right, all right. Lay down and we'll begin."

The huge man lowered his bulk onto an overstuffed couch, lifting his leg to the opposite armrest, and keeping the other foot on the floor. His robe fell open revealing his hairy rolls of fat within. I shuddered, took a deep breath, and began to strip for him, leaving my wimple on. When my dress came off, he gasped: "Such lovely little berries you have. So perfectly shaped, they stick right out. And the points are so hard. I wonder what jewel lurks below?"

My panties came off, and a broad smile creased his face. He reached out, but I slapped his hands away to kneel before the couch and search for the Elephant. It was starting to raise its trunk, questing, seeking. Already it was too thick for me to wrap my hand around, and a hint of moisture rested at the end of the glans. Using my fingernails in a twisting motion, I encouraged the monster and it responded quickly, stiffening and growing redder. I reached under to tickle the Elephant's ears, playfully giving them a squeeze. The old man grimaced for a moment, but his face relaxed as I stirred his manhood.

It was time for lubrication, and making sure his eyes were closed, I poured some of the sacred oil onto his skin, rubbing it up and down to make it incredibly slick. "Oh, Maddelena, so good, so good. Better than La Rossa." Smiling, I nibbled at his glans; it was far too big to take into my mouth, but I worked my way around it moisten it. The fluid that emerged was sweetish, so I spent a little more time teasing his corona than I planned.

He started to grunt and wrinkle his brow, so I began to stroke him faster to bring him off as soon as I could. I started murmuring: "Come on, Pappa. Give it to me."

"Yes, yes, yes, Pappa's got a lot to give you. Faster, harder, Maddelena. Oh, you are such a blessing. Yes, yes, yes." Flecks of clear liquid started jumping off, with larger and larger dribbles mixed in. I rubbed the fresh lubricant all around and down, patting his balls, and returning to a two handed stroke. "Maddelena, it's almost here. Almost here. Almost here." 

With a huge cry, a fountain erupted under my grasp. I closed my eyes and my face, neck, chest and arms were flooded with the old man's seed. Pulse after pulse shot forth from my coaxing, and I kept at it until I milked him dry, squeezing his nuts to finish the job as best I could.

He took several deep gulps of air and let out a long sigh. I started to get up, but he said: "Stay with me a moment, Maddelena. Let me see you as you are." His dark eyes fluttered open wide and a broad smile creased his face as he regarded me. "Ah yes, covered with love, Maddelena, covered with my love. I will remember this for a long time."

"The tickets."

"Consider them in your hand now. I will do more for you, if. . ."

I gave him a peck on the cheek. "Let's keep this moment special by making it unique."

He gave me a strange look and touched a spot of oil on my skin. "Where did you get this?" I showed him the container. "Oh, Maddelena, what a little blasphemer you are! How could you think of using this Holy Oil consecrated to heal the Sick for this purpose?"

"You're a priest and I'm a nun. It seemed to make sense, since this was medicinal."

He started at me for a moment in horror, then shrugged and got up. "Let me give you a towel, Maddelena," before striding from the room and giving me a huge towel that could have wrapped twice around me. Watching as I cleaned myself up and dressed, he gallantly kissed my hand before gesturing me to leave.

I stopped by the Common Room to grab a couple of Morelli beers on my way back to my room. It made sense for the moment: I needed something after the task I just completed and to get ready to drive through Roman traffic to Leonardo Da Vinci Airport. A dash through the shower and a clean, fresh habit made me feel presentable, and I had a few moments to check my Facebook account before leaving.

Mother Mary Rufus was quiet as we darted through the cars on the freeway south of town. I didn't know if she was happy to see Aunt Mavis again, or dreading it. Halfway there, she gave me a little inquisitive sniff, but settled back when she didn't find what she was expecting. I gave her a sidelong glance, but she was lost in thought.

"Hurray, hurray, hurray, there's my gels. Ooooh, it's ssoo good to see you both." Mavis bounded out of Customs and ran to fling herself at La Rossa, crushing her in an enveloping embrace. "My Barbie, all dignified and queenly, Mother Superior of the world. Let me look at you." Mavis pushed her away to look her up and down before clutching her close again. "You're doing splendidly, gel, Rome agrees with you. And is this our little Helen Joy?"

"Hullo, Aunt Mavis."

She gathered me in to test the strength of my ribs and my ability to stay conscious without breathing. "All growed up, like a perfect little picture, and you can hear me at last, right?"


St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 01



"Right, Aunt Mavis. We spoke on the phone earlier."

"It's a miracle, it's a miracle."

"It took a while once we heard of the Swiss doctor's new treatment," I started, "I'd given up hope of ever hearing again, but after the new procedure and the implants, it's a new world."

"Are you still teaching sign, dearie?"

"Oh yes, I found a clinic where I can do it, a nice place. I'm still learning Italian signs, but it's coming."

"And you can speak Italian?"

"I'm doing fine, but La Rossa is going slower." 

La Rossa gave me a glare over her shoulder, and said: "We should be getting your things, Mavis."

"Right O."

As we returned to the City, Mavis asked if we had word from her ex-Vicar in Kansas, but Mother just shrugged and gave her a blank look. The plump old lady eagerly told us about the doings of all her family and her old parish of St. Dunstan's. The only down note was her failure to find a Scotsman to keep her company: "It's so strange up there. Like visiting a different planet, Scotland is. The food's ghastly, and everybody lives in mortal fear of having fun. Sure, there's a lot of stout men wearing their kilts with nae trues on, but it's like their hemlines are stapled to their knees. . ."

We were glad to get back to the Generalate, and it took four Sisters to get her luggage up to her quarters. The other English speaking nuns present didn't know what to make of Mavis, who kept up a steady stream of chatter throughout the meal, and the non-English speaking nuns marveled at how much food, wine and grappa she could put away. After Evening Prayer, she went up to La Rossa's room, and the faint echos of her voice rang in my ears as I drifted off to sleep.

La Rossa was tired at Mass the next morning: her eyes told me Mavis didn't leave until it was quite late, and she'd drunk quite a bit of Scotch to keep her company. Mavis herself was bright as a penny, smiling and moving with the chants of the Liturgy. Monsignore Farinelli watched her as much as he could and pulled me aside before I could finish cleaning up in the Sacristy. "Little one, who was the charming new Sister at Mass this morning?"

"She's Senorina Hazelton from England. And she's not a nun."

"No? Then how does she come to shine her light on us?"

"She's an old friend of La Rossa's from England. Family friend."

"Ah, I notice La Rossa is worn this morning. Shame. Is she the one you wanted the Papal Audience tickets for?"

"Yes. I think she's going to be around for a while."

"Well, I must do my part to help make her welcome. I shall accompany you tomorrow morning." There was a feral gleam in his eye that frightened me. 

"Do you really need to? Remember you always get upset when you see all your old classmates around the Holy Father."

"They are lickspittle, they can have their lace and frills. It is not manly. No, I shall protect you when you go forth. I can rise above the indignities of Fate and corrupt use of power."

"Okay, I guess. From what I know of Aunt Mavis, Rome will need protection." He gave me a strange look in reply, but said nothing.

During breakfast, Mavis was whispering with La Rossa about the priest who said mass. The older woman had an odd look on her face as she listened to her old friend, half listening, half dreaming.

La Rossa, just sipped her coffee with more urgency than usual, nodding, then shaking her head and giving me a cross eyed look. I could read her mind: I need to recover. It was no surprise she cornered me just after breakfast: "You and Juliana are taking Mavis out on the town today. See everything you can, walk her from the Colosseum to the Pantheon, walk her all the way out to St. Paul's Outside the Walls, keep her busy."

"Got any mad money for me?"

"Draw what you need from the Bursar." She took a deep breath and sighed. "Mavis is in a bad way: Scotland wasn't what she hoped it would be, and she feels useless. She needs company, she needs a familiar face or two, and she needs new surroundings."

"How long is she staying?"

"God only knows. Get back by supper and we'll go from there."

Fetching a nice bundle of euros was no problem, so Juliana and I guided Mavis onto a bus for the ancient city. She was excited to visit the antiquities she's only seen in pictures, taking dozens of shots with her digital camera. Sister Juliana and I posed in front of several places for her, taking care to look cheerful but not flippant. It was a lovely day, not very warm, although Mavis was slightly damp as we approached the Pantheon. From there, we took her across the Tiber to the Vatican museum, where she enjoyed the art but seemed disappointed Michelangelo's David wasn't there. I tried explaining to her that it's located in Florence, but it didn't seem to sink it.

After ogling the Sistine Chapel, we crossed St. Peter's square, prepared for the next day's audience with legions of empty chairs and barricades, and found a small bistro to have lunch. As we settled at a sidewalk table with some bottled water and scrutinized the menus, Mavis fanned herself and looked around. "This is a lovely place, Helen. How good is the food?"

"It's lovely, Aunt Mavis. Have anything you want."

"Thanks. Your mother looks tired."

"She's had a lot on her plate lately. Just got back from a trip to Australia last week, and we received a delegation from Canada a couple of days ago. Also have a long visit to Sweden next month, with some regional meetings to prepare for, so she'll be due for a rest soon."

"I hope so. Barbara isn't getting any younger. How about you, Helen dear? Are you liking your stay here?"

"It's wonderful, I love everything about Rome. Would love to stay here after La Rossa's term is over, but I'll probably have to choose between going back to England, or following her to Kansas."

"Speaking of Kansas, have you heard much from the Vicar?"

I took a sip of peach tea and took a deep breath. "Very little. Agnes and I are Facebook friends, so I see the updates and pictures she puts up. They seem happy out in Kansas, or at least Agnes is happy. La Rossa never talks about him, seems sad when he comes up in conversation, never wants to hear from me about how he's doing."

"Shame." Our primi piatti arrived, and Mavis devoured hers with such gusto, Sister Juliana was open eyed with amazement. As we waited for the next course, Mavis drew closer to me and started to whisper conspiratorially: "What about the Elephant?"

"Oh, that's a famous statue, known all over the world. Legend says the designer was kicked out of the seminary that used to occupy one side of the square, so he positioned the elephant's backside to face the school that expelled him."

She giggled, and shook her head. "No, I mean your chaplain, the Monsignore. I heard the nuns call him 'Elephante'"

Sister Juilanna shuddered and crossed herself, which made Mavis smile. I shrugged my shoulders. "Oh, that one. He's called that because he's such a huge man."

"Is he huge in many ways?"

"Yes."

"How about. . .you know?"

I took about sip of tea and tried to paste a pious look on my face. "I wouldn't know what you mean?" I said, "There wouldn't be any appropriate way for me to know much about his particular. . .anatomy." Our other companion didn't speak a word of English, but she must have read something in my facial expression and tone that made her giggle uncontrollably. I kicked Sister Juliana under the table, which made her giggle more. Mavis caught the suspicion and smiled to herself until the next course arrived.

It took a great deal of persuasion to get her back to the Generalate for the afternoon nap. Sister Juliana was looking frazzled, and I was feeling drowsy myself: I remembered the old song that "Mad Dogs and Englishmen Go Out in the Noonday Sun," but after 2 years I was completely Roman and needed my siesta. Afterward, we took her out South to see the gardens and artwork at St. Paul's Basilica, and she tried to get the gardeners involved in conversation, but their English wasn't good enough to do more than understand she was interested in the flowers.

By dinnertime, La Rossa was looking more human, and listened to Mavis' account of the day patiently, chuckling on occasion. However, when the dolci arrived, a frown wrinkled her forehead just under her wimple and stayed there until we were finished with Evening Prayer. As we were filing out of the chapel, she snagged my arm and drew me out of hearing of the rest of the nuns.

"Squirt, you need to do some undercover work tonight."

"Yes, like what?"

"Mavis is getting too interested in the Elephant, and he's getting too interested in her. He came by, dressed and washed for once, and grilled me about her and her situation. Tomorrow, he's putting his black dress on and going with us to the Audience."

"What? He's never done that."

"And he was asking Mavis about taking a stroll along the Tiber after prayers. Good thing she doesn't understand Italian and he doesn't understand English."

I shook my head. "Damn, it's like chaperoning teenagers! I don't think they'll need to talk much once they get some time alone."

"You don't know the half of it, Squirt. So I'm going to let you in on a little secret: I know about you and Juliana sneaking out to the clubs after hours. Now, don't look so offended, I have my ways. I also know you're not getting into any real trouble, which is why I haven't called an end to the party. So you two need to put your civvies on and take her out so she doesn't snoop around here after hours. While we were taking our siesta, she prowled the buildings looking for himself's apartment, but fortunately she got into a long conversation with Rocco that distracted her."

"Rocco?"

She laughed out loud. "He isn't used to women old enough to be his grandmother trying to seduce him. Poor boy was blushing when he told me." We laughed together for several moments before settling down. "However, I know Mavis, and she'll be looking for him tonight. He'll probably be looking for her once he gets a whiff of her perfume with that huge nose of his. So you and Juliana put your dancing clothes on and get her out of here. She'll go for that in a heartbeat, I know. Shoo!"

Sister Juliana was nervous when I told her La Rossa's instructions, but settled down when she realized we weren't in trouble yet. Mavis was ecstatic about going out dancing. So we took off our habits, put on our dresses and makeup, and met at the guest suite to pick up Mavis. It took all I could to keep her silent until we were outside, keeping up the pretense of sneaking out under La Rossa's nose.

"You gels look lovely. But your skirts are a little too long, what boy's going to notice you? I can hem them up a little for you, you have such nice legs, especially you, Juli." 

We were wearing matching blue and yellow dresses that went to our mid-thigh, with enough chest exposure to be ordinary without showing cleavage. A moderate amount of makeup and lipstick adorned our faces, and we wore clip on earrings in the shape of crosses. Trading our practical convent shoes for moderate heels, and letting our hair fly free, we were two ordinary girls on the pull who just happened to have a grandmother around. Mavis wore a black dress with a dramatically plunging neckline, slit up the side, a fresh flower tucked over her right ear, with enough jewelry and makeup to go professional.

Sister Juliana blushed as Mavis started to lift her hem, and I intervened. "Aunt Mavis, we just want to have a good time, not pick up a bunch of boys."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Why else sneak out of a convent?"

"We like to dance and have a drink or two, chat with someone who's our age. Italian boys are aggressive enough, we don't need big nets to fish this stream. There's usually even an older man or two around."

"Really? Are they cute?"

"You'll have to decide for yourself."

"Goodie. Let's go, girls."

The Celestial Pyramid was a club Sister Juliana and I went to the most; the owners were friends of the community, and their grandson at the door let us in without the usual cover charge. The dance floor wasn't crowded on a weeknight, unlike the weekend nights, and there was a lot of room for us to dance together while we looked at the crowd. They were typical young professionals, dressed well, enjoying the atmosphere and each other's company. This club didn't feature a glittering sphere like other clubs did, but there was an expert hand at the lights, so the throbbing music and shadows kept the energy level high.

We had a good time dancing together, different boys moving by to take a look from time to time, until it was time for refreshment. After picking up our drinks, we noticed our company was one short.

Sister Juliana noticed first, looking around frantically. "Where is the old lady?"

I looked around, and spotted her quickly. "She's on the other side of the room. Talking with the guy underneath the palm tree."

"Good. I thought she left us."

"No, Aunt Mavis wouldn't do that to us. If she got into to anything, she'd want us to go with her."

Sister Juliana shuddered and peered to look at Mavis' companion. "Why does that man have so much jewelry around his neck?"

"Trying to impress people, I guess. He looks like the greengrocer from down the street."

The music slowed down and the lights dropped for a slow number, and several couples took the dance floor. I always find it touching and sad: soft kisses and traveling hands abounded, but the looks in all the eyes were so frightened, tentative, afraid to face deeper realities the slow pace allowed to surface. Sister Juliana led me off to the W.C. to freshen up, and when we returned, the tempo and lights called us back to the dance floor.

Mavis was dancing with her new friends, and we laughed at her across the room. Her body was so large it went several directions at once, jiggling and wiggling chaotically, always trying to catch up with itself. Her partner turned out to be Francesco, the greengrocer from down the street, decked in an open collared shirt, several golden chains, slacks and shoes without socks. He was in his mid 50's, but had only a touch of grey around his well weathered features. His face was a combination of lust and amazement as he regarded his partner's energy. His eyes followed her cleavage, seemed to half hope her huge mammary would escape its confinement, and half hoping it would stay contained.

Sister Juliana had to turn and face me so Mavis wouldn't see her laughing at the show. At times, she would get another glimpse of Mavis' gyrations, and turn to double over in hysterics again. I got a strange look from a young blond boy close by and shrugged my shoulders. It was hard for me to keep my eyes on the action close by, and timely intervention by me kept my partner from bodily interfering in several couples' space. The evening seemed to drag by until around one, when the music paused and Mavis came to rejoin us.

"Helen, I've got a great opportunity for you gels lined up. A real chance to learn something important."

"Aunt Mavis, it's about time to go home."

"No, Helen, you've got to see this. Francesco's gonna let me show you two how to give a great bit of head."

I looked for Francesco across the room and didn't find him. "Aunt Mavis, Juli and I are already aware of the theory."

"But I've got a trick or two that nobody else has. Taught all my gels and they're the most popular girls in town, wherever they be."

"Francesco knows us, he's our grocer. He'd be embarrassed."

"He would? First Italian male I ever knew who'd be embarrassed."

"No, he has particularly ideas about the sanctity of nuns. I once heard him say that nuns should stay in their convents and pray all the time. What did you tell him about us?"

"Oh nothing, luv. You're young gels learning about life."

"Thanks but no thanks. Juli and I know the ways of the world well enough."

"But how do you handle the boys around here?"

"If they get too aggressive, we handle them. Sometimes nicely, sometimes not, if you know what I mean."

Mavis gave me a sharp look all over and nodded. "You're your mother's gel, that's a cert. I don't doubt you can take care of yourself in any situation. All right, your loss. Just tryin' to help. Maybe when we get back to the Generalate I can show you my special tricks on a banana. You've got bananas there, don't you?"

I gave her a peck on the cheek. "Yes. Appreciated. We need to go."

"I need to take care of Francesco."

Looking at the clock, and thinking fast, I said. "All right. Juli and I will meet you here when you're done. Don't have too much fun."

"Dearie, it's been too long since I've had a nice sausage like that. Won't be long."

She waddled off and Sister Juliana leaned over to whisper in my ear. "What was she talking about?"

I leaned to whisper back: "She wanted to show us something."

"What?"

"How to give a special blowjob."

Sister Juliana's eyes went wide and her hands came up to cover her face. "My God, Franny, that woman's incredible."

"I know it, Juli. I know it."



St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 02



The morning came too soon, and the clear sky promised a nice day for an outdoor Papal Audience. Sister Juliana and I were yawning through Morning Prayer and breakfast, so we changed into t-shirts and shorts and went up to the roof to do some stretching. It was 0700, and traffic was just starting pick up on the streets outside the Generalate. Rocco was digging under one of the bushes, throwing glances our direction from time to time, making a show of being busy.

"Did you hear about what happened last night when we were gone?" Sister Juliana asked.

"No. What?"

"Sister Agatha had a fainting spell, right after we left. Sister Prudence and Sister Felicity took her to the clinic and they're keeping her for several days."

"Is it her heart again?"

"Probably. Felicity said the outlook is not good."

"Damn. She's the only one around here who can really cook."

"The Elephant was with her all night. Felicity said he was crying at her bedside."

"He has a heart after all. Good for him."

"They were together for many years."

"Maybe it means he won't be going to the Audience with us today."

"One could hope. Can I go if he can't?"

"La Rossa will probably offer the ticket to one of the older girls. If I can put a word in for you, I will, but don't get your hopes up."

She smiled as she stretched her legs, sank down, and did the splits. I copied her motion, twisting and turning. The wind was started to stir from the South, indicating a warmer than usual day. It felt good to work out the kinks, to move gracefully, to feel my muscles stretch and relax again and again. I wished we had a boom box or iPod to work out by, but they were considered extravagances in the Generalate, so I had to imagine the music from our trip to the Celestial Pyramid the night before as I moved through our routine.

My cell phone buzzed; it was La Rossa, my Superior and my mother. "What?" I said as I flipped it open.

"Nice way to start the day, Squirt. We need to get this caravan organized. Get dressed and come downstairs ASAP."

"Can it wait 5 minutes?"

"No, and tell Sister Juliana I need her to head over to the hospital. We need someone to sit with Agatha, and she's the only one who's free right now."

"What room is she in?"

"ICU 3."

"All right." 

Sister Juliana stopped and gave me a quizzical look. "Marching orders from La Rossa. I've got to get ready for the trip to St. Peter's; you're going to sit with Agatha for a while."

"Darn. So much for stretching on a nice morning."

"Had to end sometime."

We scurried downstairs to put on our habits and get to where we needed to be. There was a limo at the front door, which surprised me greatly. La Rossa bustled into view: "Yes, I know, it's over the top, but Monsignore Farinelli set it up. At least, I talked him out of the driver with a promise of something special later: heaven only knows where we'd end up with him controlling the transport. Sister Veronica will be driving us."

"That'll be exciting."

La Rossa slapped my shoulder. "None of your lip today, Squirt. If I know Carlo, our seats will be in a premium spot, so you'll have to give up your attitude for a while. As will I. Unfortunately, you and I will have to be on best behavior today, more so than your grandmother's High Tea parties, so don't make my life any more difficult than it is right now."

There was a look in her brown eyes that worried me, but I dared not bring it up. Mavis waddled into view, wearing a more somber dress than the evening before, dark green with comfortable dark shoes. Her hemline was at her knee, however it featured a generous cleavage that I knew would interest the Elephant. Her makeup was more restrained than last night as well, but still aggressive.

Monsignore Carlo Maria Farinelli, the Elephant, made a grand entrance in his red piped cassock, his   remarkablye dark hair slicked back, his busy eyebrows seemed to be blow dried and his face was freshly shaven, cologne wafting strongly from him. A large, bear of a man, tall, rotund, with huge hands and feet, tenderly took Mavis' hand and brought it to his lips for an elegant peck. "And how is the lovely lady who are escorting to the Vatican today?"

Mavis curtsied as he kissed her hand. "Who is this noble gentleman?" 

Since the Monsignore didn't speak English and Mavis didn't speak Italian, I had to translate as they exchanged pleasantries. It was more difficult than usual, as I edited their remarks for double entendres and flirtations, keeping it banal. La Rossa's eye darted back and forth, her eyebrows hunched in thought, tapping her foot as we awaited our driver. 

Sister Veronica was a Roman native in her late 40's, average height, slightly plump, and a frequent target of the Elephant's attentions, which she fended off with practiced disdain. A sneer crossed her face as she saw the Monsignore, but a slight shake of La Rossa's head altered her attitude. With a generous bow, he ushered us into the limo, La Rossa sitting beside him with Mavis and I seated facing those two.

Our driver knew all the shortcuts through traffic to get us over the Tiber, and used her Italian driving skills to full extent, racing down back streets, blaring her horn at temporary obstacles, gesturing at other drivers. One sudden jolt threw Mavis face first across onto Monsignore's lap. He patted her head and caressed her shoulder, smiling unctiously at us with upturned eyebrow. She took her time getting back to her seat from that, patting herself and rearranging her stray hair as she settled back into her seat. "Mavis, you should always wear your seat belt in this country," La Rossa observed.

"Really? Whatever for?" she replied innocently. Monsignore Farinelli looked smug, Mavis looked flushed, quivering like a teenager, and La Rossa was not happy at all.

Monsignore gravely took Mavis' arm as we left the vehicle outside the entrance to St. Peter's square. La Rossa told Sister Veronica to return after the noon meal, and we hustled to catch up with them at the barricade. Once we got there and passed the metal detector, a Swiss Guard nodded to us and guided us away from the crowd spreading out across the square, along Bernini's Colonnade and toward the Papal Canopy set up near the entrance to St. Peter's. La Rossa shook her head and whispered in English: "I was afraid of this. Monsignore must have called in a lot of favors. Did you say anything to him about Mavis yesterday?"

"I only said she was an old family friend from back home. No details."

"Did you say anything to Mavis about him?"

"Only that he was called Elephante because he was such a large man."

"Shit. I hate it when this happens."

"When what happens?"

She straightened up and switched back to Italian. "I have some bad news about Sister Agatha."

I followed her back to Italian. "Really? What?"

"She's had a serious stroke. It will take a lot of therapy before she can function much at all, and there's no telling how far back she'll make it."

"Crap. She's the only one who can cook around here."

"Tell me about it. We're going to have put up with Sister Maria Alphonsa's cooking for a while."

I sighed and shrugged my shoulders. "Some of us need a diet."

"True, Squirt, and thanks for reminding me of that. I have another card up my sleeve, but we'll have to see how things go."

We arrived close to the front when a Bishop with a gold chain approached, accompanied by another Monsignore. Our Monsignore dropped Mavis' arm and greeted him with extended arms, embracing him and kissing him on both cheeks. La Rossa shook her head, and went back to English. "That's Archbishop Frederico Colonna, with Monsignore Guido Scarpelli beside him. They all grew up together in Venezia and went to Seminary together. Carlo can hardly stand they've done so well and he hasn't. He got caught juggling some figures a few years ago, so he was demoted to Firenza before he came to us. Word is Colonna's getting a Red Hat in the next Consistory, and Scarpelli will be the next Patriarch of Venice. Look at them. Bosom buddies, the best of friends forever. Wouldn't have happened last week. I'll bet he introduces Mavis before us."

"The Elephant's really on the prowl, isn't he?"

A felt a sharp rap on my skull, and felt the ire from my birth mother. "You'll use no version of that name here, dammit. It's bad enough you all call him that at the Generalate. Bring it up here and his friends might ask how he got that name. How are you going to explain that?"

I shrugged my shoulders, and made appropriate noises when introduced to his friends. He did introduce Mavis first, much to La Rossa's chagrin. Mavis curtsied and smiled at them, and they got a nice peek down her cleavage, which was apparent from the broad smiles on their faces.

We found ourselves in the front row, close to the Papal canopy and the center of the area. Monsignore preened and smiled like a politician with Mavis on his arm, who beamed at all and looked around as he pointed things out to her. La Rossa crossed her arms in front of her and sulked as organ music filled the square. It was a tinny sound, irritating, nothing like the organ I heard inside St. Peter's at Christmas, and an insult to the fine instruments back home. A double row of Cardinals assembled behind the canopy, distracted, chatting to one another, pointing at different things around the square. The two huge video screens set up in the square came to life, showing the Vatican Choir getting ready to sing.

The Papal cart rolled into site and whizzed around the square as the Pope beamed and waved at the throngs assembled there. It switched sides in the middle of the Square, passing through the crowd, before zooming up to his embarkation point. Coming up to the pavilion, he paused to greet people in the front row, and shortly I realized he was moving toward us: we were going to meet him in person if he continued his current course.

"What is your name, Sister?" He came up so quickly he startled me. I was looking into his smiling deep blue eyes, listening to his etherial tenor with a hint of Bavaria. He reached out and touched my cheek. "You are such a lovely child."

I broke his touch to bend over and kiss his ring. "Sister Mary Frances Xavier, of the Congregation of St. George, Your Holiness."

"It's a pleasure to have you here today. And this must be your superior, goodness, you could be sisters. It's a pleasure to see you again, Mother Mary Rufus."

She bent over quickly to kiss his proffered ring, and said: "Thank you, Your Holiness."

"Carlo, it's good to see you here again. It's been too long, you must come more often. Who is this dear lady by your side?"

He kissed the Papal Ring as well, beaming as he rose. "This is Signorina Mavis Hazelton from England, Holiness." Mavis curtsied as if greeting the Queen, and the Pope smiled broadly at her, his eyes flicking downward only for a moment. 

"We are honored to have you with us, Mrs. Hazelton," he said in almost perfect English. She battled her eyes and almost swooned on the spot.

The rest of the audience was a blur as they progressed from one language to another, the different portions of the crowd cheering as their groups were announced The Vatican choir sung, and La Rossa grimaced. Mavis leaned over and whispered hoarsely: "Don't they have better music here? This group is awful." La Rossa put her finger to her lips, shushing her, while the Holy Father gave us a sidelong glance with a small smile on his lips.

After the Audience,we were escorted back out through the square and made our way to a small bistro for the noon meal. Settling at a table on the sidewalk, La Rossa and I looked over the menu while the older folks made their way through the restaurant to use the rest rooms. "So far, so good," she said, "that went smoother than I thought it would. Mavis must have been blown away by all the pomp and circumstance."

"Does Monsignore always get us seats this good?"

"Hell, no," she blurted loudly in English, drawing stares from the other diners. She shifted to a lower tone and back to Italian: "Like I said, he must have called in some favors. Usually he gets us ordinary general admission, and we have to scramble to get seats up close. Some of those older nuns can be vicious."

We watched the people walk down the street as the breeze played down the confined space. The nice weather was holding, and promised to be a perfect day. A couple of bishops strode by on their way somewhere, a baby struggled to escape its stroller. I took a sip of water and said: "When did you meet the Pope?"

"There's a reception for new Superiors from time to time. I met him a couple of months after we got here, chatted about five minutes."

"Sweet."

A waiter brought a bottle of wine, placing the cork on the table. La Rossa took it and put it down. "Carlo's the sommelier. Looks like a nice vintage as far as I can tell. I'll let him do the honors with the cork. By the way, shouldn't he be back by now?"

I looked around and saw no sign of him. "Maybe he's waiting for Aunt Mavis inside?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Have a peek inside, Squirt."

The restaurant was full, and there was a line for the restrooms. I waited until a man and a woman emerged: it wasn't them. They'd given us the slip.

"Damn," La Rossa said when I related this to her, "I knew we were too lucky. I'll call him on his cell, you get the Home Office and report there may be an elephant on the loose."

Monsignore didn't answer his phone, and Sister Margherita promised to keep the Generalate alerted to his return. "They're on the lookout for him at home. Should we go look for him now?"

"No, they're probably hopped a cab and could be on their way to Pompeii for all we know. We've done all we can do; probably should have a nice lunch and keep our wits about us."

"What could they do? They can't understand each other."

"You know better than that, Squirt. I'm afraid they understand each other too well." 

We had a nice lunch and met Sister Veronica in the limo at 1300. My head was buzzing a bit from the wine, but I was glad I didn't have to teach Sign at the Institute until the next day. After another hazardous ride across town, we ended up back the Generalate as the other sisters settled down for their siestas. I picked up my sunblock and dozed in the sun on the roof.

Sister Juliana woke me from my nap just before Evening Prayer. "I'm jealous."

"Jealous?"

"You got to the Audience today, had lunch with La Rossa by yourself, and now you're up here while I had to sit with Sister Agatha at the hospital all day."

"How's she doing?"

"A little better. She opened her eyes when Sister Prudence came in and smiled a little, she's also moved a little bit on her affected side."

"That's good. And if you think I've had an easy day, you're sadly mistaken."

"Do tell."

"The Elephant kidnapped Aunt Mavis after the Audience and is AWOL."

She shook her head. "La Rossa must be in a tizzy right now." Looking at her wrist, she stood up quickly. "She'll be in even more of a tizzy if we're late for Prayer."

I got dressed and made it on time. La Rossa was guarded, which puzzled me. I thought she would be frantic after the afternoon's events, but she was only glum. Mavis was gone, which wasn't surprising, and Monsignor was absent as well, which was normal. Dinner was mostly inedible and uneventful until La Rossa beckoned me and Sister Juliana after the dolci.

"I need you to keep vigil tonight," she murmured to us.

"Where?"

"On the grounds. I don't want you in the Chapel, or else the Elephant will think something's up as he comes in. Keep an eye on his window and tell me when he comes in."

Sister Juliana asked: "Do you want us to call you?"

"No. Just keep an eye out, watch whatever happens and tell me everything in the morning."

"Something's up," I cut in.

"You're right, Squirt, but you don't need to know right now. Do as you're told for once."

"Like last night?"

"Sometimes I wish my sister Patty hadn't raised you and I'd done it myself. Get out of here."

Sister Juliana was happy to spend the night sitting in the broad tree outside the Chaplain's rooms. Sister Florentina loaned us her brandy flasks, which we filled with a nice grappa from the community room. It was dark when we took our places, settling on the broad, ancient limbs. The temperatures were moderate, but we wore dark jackets over our habits. We had nothing but the traffic noise from the other side of the wall and the occasional aircraft for company. "How soon do you expect them back, Franny?" Sister Juliana whispered after we were settled.

"Knowing Aunt Mavis, I imagine it won't be until after 1:00, Juli."

"Do you think they'll do anything. . ."

"Yes. I'd put money on it. Aunt Mavis has a reputation."

We sat in the tree, texting friends and keeping up with our Facebook accounts for a couple of hours. One of our Italian patrons was the owner of a local cell phone service, so we got unlimited calls and texts on our plan. La Rossa checked in a couple of times, as did Sister Margherita. I heard a rustling in the bushes around 2200, and in the dim light made out the form of Rocco Salvatore, our gardener. A quick text message to him, telling him to scram in no uncertain terms, sent him on his way, but he held up his hands, pleading profusely before he left.

2300 was the time when the lights came on in the apartment. The Elephant was still wearing his red piped cassock from earlier in the day. Mavis followed him, smiling broadly, and unzipped her dress. He went around the room lighting several large candles, before standing in front his closet to undo the many buttons of his costume. A large toothy smile dominated his face, and Sister Juliana shuddered to see it.

He wore a t shirt that revealed his shoulders under his cassock, and striped boxers. She wore a huge white bra and panties under her dress. They came together and locked lips for an eternity before breaking, his hands pawing her enormous breasts, squeezing and kneading. His hands went around behind her and she broke their embrace, shaking her head no and revealing the front clasp of her bra. 

Sister Juliana gasped as Mavis' breasts came into view: they were as big as bowling balls, with huge nipples that perked into marble sized buds when they met the air. "My God, she could nurse an army! Have you ever seen such huge tits before?" she whispered.

"No, Aunt Mavis takes the prize. Look, she's kneeling in front of him. I think the Elephant's trunk is coming out."

Mavis lowered the boxers and the enormous cock came into view, making Sister Juliana gasp again. "I wouldn't begin to know what to do with that," she said, her voice quivering in fear, "would you?"

"Like the Americans would say, I'm taking the Fifth. Look, she's smiling and licking her lips."

"Bet you she can't take the end all the way in her mouth."

"Aunt Mavis has a big mouth."

"What human being could? It's bigger than a man's fist."

Mavis started licking the shaft of the Elephant's trunk and tickling the ridge around the head. Her hand reached lower to tickle the wrinkled sack, and the Elephant broke into a beatific smile like none I've ever seen. It was tough to tell through the glass, but if we could have heard what we going on, I'm sure he was purring. She started to suck the head in, and her mouth stretched farther than I thought possible: she was able to wrap her lips entirely around it and suck it into her mouth. Sister Juliana put her hand on my thigh and I swatted it away. "I like you, Juli, but there's a limit."

"It's so hard just to watch this." She started rubbing her own thigh, working up, but her position blocked her from reaching the crevice between her legs.

"Ask the Virgin to give you strength." I shifted a little to make myself more comfortable, and noticed my panties were a little damp.




St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 02



The Elephant was playing with her ears as she sucked him, moving with her as she spat him out and worked her way down the shaft, licking all the way. The head of his penis was a brighter red than I'd ever seen before, shining so much I expected it to cast shadows. His eyes rolled back into his head and his shoulders relaxed into the mattress completely as she found her way to the base of his manhood. "What's she doing now?" Sister Juliana asked.

"She's sucking his balls."

"I can't imagine. Do women really do that?"

"Yes, it drives men crazy. Suck their balls and stroke their dicks and you'll get a pearl necklace almost every time."

"You mean pearls come out of there, Franny?"

"Figure of speech, Juli, figure of speech."

She gave me a curious look. "How do you know this, Franny?"

"I watched a lot of movies before I went to the Convent. And my mother told me a lot about sex."

Her dubious look stayed until a sudden movement drew her attention back to the window. Mavis was moving back up the shaft and had taken the head back into her mouth, swallowing as much as she could. Bit by bit disappeared, I'm sure Mavis could take in almost any normal man but the Elephant was too long and thick for her, and she didn't get halfway down his cock. "I bet the Elephant hasn't gotten this far before," I mused.

"What do you mean, Franny?"

"Just wondering, Juli, speculating."

She squeezed his shaft and slapped his balls, spitting him out and moving up the bed to kiss him on the lips. He recovered and threw his arms around her, squeezing her hard, before moving to grope her breasts again. Rolling over on her side, she offered her nipple to him, and he sucked it greedily into his mouth. They rolled so we couldn't see any genital action for a while, before he emerged on top of her and she put her legs up.

"Oh, I can't watch, I can't watch, Franny," Sister Juliana whimpered, burying her head in my shoulder. "Tell me what's happening, tell me what's happening. Is he going to deflower her?"

"Aunt Mavis has six children and over 20 grandchildren. She was deflowered decades ago."

"What about the Elephant? He might have a heart attack."

"I imagine he's a virgin. And I hope he doesn't have a heart attack, either."

"What's he doing, what's he doing?"

"He's lining up for entry. She's smiling and nodding her head, my God I don't know if she can handle it. They're fishing around, she reaching between her legs, I think he's in now."

"Oh my God, my God."

"That's probably what she's saying, yes, I can see her lips moving. Working it in and out, deeper, deeper. She's still smiling, she must be incredible. I can't believe it's happening, he's so big and thick. Deeper, deeper. I think they've done it. All the way in. I'm sure that's the first time the Elephant got that far."

My phone buzzed and I answered. "What's going on?" La Rossa demanded.

"What we thought would."

"Explain."

"They're home, and they're in his rooms."

"And they're fucking. Is she taking it all?"

"Yes, Mother. He got all the way in."

"I'm going to bed. You girls can go to bed as well."

"Don't you want us to see what happens?"

"You've seen enough. Mission accomplished. Good night." The line went dead, and I closed my phone, confused at what she said.

I put the phone away and felt the weight next to me shift. Sister Juliana had come out of hiding and was watching the scene in front of her open mouthed. It took three hard taps on her arm, almost hard enough to leave a bruise to get her attention. "Juli, Juli, Juli, we can go now."

"You can go if you want, but, but, but"

"All right, we can stay." 

Mavis and the Elephant gave us quite a show that evening, trying most of the positions available to two people their age and weight, the last being a strange approach like two crabs scuttling together, touching only at their genitals with her hips below his. They laughed as they bucked together, and Sister Juliana fell out of the tree. I scrambled down after her. "Are you all right?"

She shook her head. "Yes, I think."

"Now to bed," I said, and put my arm around her to lead her back to the dormitory.

Monsignore Farinelli looked the most peaceful and serene I've ever seen him at Mass the next morning. La Rossa was also relaxed for some odd reason; Mavis didn't make it down. I went about my normal routine, and caught the bus to the Institute where I was busy teaching sign language all day. The sky had turned brown, and showers chased me across the pavement as I made my way home. My phone was silent all day, and when I returned to the Convent I found Mavis strolling in the garden. "How's it going, Aunt Mavis."

"Splendid, Helen, splendid. How are you this fine day?" 

"Well, it's a bit drizzly today, Aunt Mavis. Had a good day at work, I love teaching small children."

"That's nice, Helen. When do you think the sun will be out?"

"It's not supposed to come out for another week or so."

"Splendid."

When I got in, I asked Sister Juliana about Mavis, and she said Mavis had just wandered around in a daze most of the day. Sister Agatha was doing better, but otherwise it was a normal day. The Elephant had been in an exceptionally good mood, which no one could explain.

I went up to see La Rossa and found her in her study, smoking a Havana cigar with a glass of brandy in front of her and a silly smile on her face. "What's going on, Red?" I asked.

"I love it when a plan comes together," she said in English.

"Huh?"

"Oh Squirt, things have turned out best after all. I just talked with Mary Sterns, and Mavis' oldest daughter. Will have to take Mavis to the Embassy tomorrow to do some paperwork, but other than that, things are fine."

"I don't understand."

"Mavis just asked me if she could work here. Agatha's ready for a rest, and I'm thinking of sending her to her hometown so she can be with her family when she gets better. We have money in the budget for another lay employee, so I'm going to hire Mavis full time to cook for us and do other sundry chores."

"Including the Elephant?"

She laughed and blew out a huge smoke ring. "Carlo's absolutely smitten with her. Asked me if she could stay, offered to pay her salary out of his pocket. There's a room she could use next to his, so I said all right."

"I know you, Red, and there's more to this. I doubt Aunt Mavis will use the room we're giving her."

"No, I doubt it very much either, but it means a happy chaplain who's not on the make, good home cooking for all of us, and a place for a woman who's felt lost and unappreciated for years. A win/win situation if you ask me."

"Makes sense. Wasn't she happy with Uncle Harry?"

"That's a long story, Squirt, and I'm sure you'll hear it as time goes by. Always wheels within wheels. Even her relationship with the Vicar was a bit strained. I'll have to send you out incognito in a few days to get some toys I know Mavis likes to play with. In the meantime, all is well."

"Be careful saying that, Mother."

"Yes, Helen. Now go get ready for Prayers."

The rest of the week was uneventful, Mavis settled in and the nuns were immediately happy with her cooking, even though it would be a while before she learned Italian cuisine. Monsignore Elephant spoke about sending her to a culinary school his cousin ran across town. After Saturday evening prayer, Sister Juliana and I put on our matching party clothes and snuck out again to hit the Celestial Pyramind and dance some stress out of our systems.

It was a full house that night, and we were hard put to fend off several brash Italian men. Francesco, the greengrocer from down the street, nodded at us and send a couple drinks our direction. The music was good, the crowd was good, and I felt my recent worries dissolving in the driving beat of the music.

Sister Juliana poked me in the shoulder and pointed to the balcony above. It was reserved for VIPs and was fairly empty this evening. A slender woman stood there, blond hair flowing around her shoulders, wearing a white halter dress and gold, open toed heels. She wore a necklace and her earrings caught the glint of the crystal ball. It took a moment to recognize the face with makeup on, but I could never forget her features.

"I think we're being watched, Franny." Sister Juliana said.

"Yea, Juli, but I think it's cool." La Rossa swayed to the music and sipped a glass of white wine as she stood over the scene like a matriarch, smiling down on us in benediction. I smiled back and we lifted our glasses to one another in a silent toast.



St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 03



It was a balmy September morning in Rome when Sister Juliana and I went to shop for fresh vegetables. The market was bustling with local restauranteurs and minions of the wealthy, anxious to find the best produce for the day's menus. Walking through the market purposefully, we looked everything over before approaching a vendor to haggle. We knew several of the merchants who brought the jewels of Lazio and Umbria to the hungry city, and our banter was lighthearted as we negotiated the best prices for our supplies. Most of them are a little scared to cheat a nun, but I have to show them I'm on top of things.

Freddo Salvatore greeted us as we approached his fish stand. "Bon giorno, Sisters. Can I interest you in some fresh mussels?"

"Yes, Senore," Sister Juliana chirped. "It's been too long since we had them last."

"Ah, Sister, these were in the bottom of the Adriatic just twelve hours ago. Can you do better than that?"

She giggled nervously, and he beamed at her. Freddo was an older version of his son Rocco, who's our groundskeeper: both are tall, well built, dark hair and eyes, with a broad smile marked by a golden tooth. "Everything looks good this morning, Freddo," I said. "I think we can take enough for a nice fruitti del mare this evening. Do you think the Sisters will like that?"

"It will charm the cold heart of La Rossa herself," Freddo beamed. "I'll bring it over this afternoon right after lunch, Senora Mavis will be delighted."

"Excellent," I replied.

"Sister Juliana, you look particularly gleeful this morning. Is there a reason behind your delicious little smile?"

A bright blush overtook Sister Juliana's olive complexion and she giggled again. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ah, I thought my Rocco had finally wormed his way into your heart."

I gave him a sharp look. "Or under her wimple?"

Freddo and I laughed as Sister Juliana turned a brighter shade. "I'm just teasing, Sister, just teasing. You both are always a lovely sight, and I'm happy you give me your business. Ciao." He turned to talk with another customer, and we made our way down the line of stalls in search of fresh bread.

After finishing our round, we were on our way to the nearest bus stop when my cell phone went off with a text message. Looking down, I said: "Shit" aloud in English.

"What Sister Franny?" Sister Juliana replied. "Is there trouble at the Generalate?"

"I'll bet," I said, switching back to Italian. "It's from La Rossa: GET YOUR ASSES IN A CAB BACK HERE ASAP. We haven't done anything questionable lately, so I imagine there's a crisis somewhere in the world. Taxi!" I shouted as a cab approached.

The cabbie was happy to take us back, acting like a perfect gentleman and helping us with our bags. Rocco Salvatore the Gardener met us at the gate to pay the cabbie off and relieve us of our burdens, leaving us free to come in immediately. "It must be an emergency," Sister Juliana sighed. "Rocco didn't even favor us with a 'welcome home' leer. Everyone must be scared."

"I hate to think what's going on," I said. "Don't think it's a problem overseas, or she wouldn't get us back this quickly while making Rocco take the groceries from us at the gate. Maybe one of the older sisters has had an attack of some kind."

"Like Sister Lucretia last month?"

"Yeah. We had to hotfoot it back from the nightclub. Oh well, no use in waiting for bad news."

We ran down the hallways of the Generalate, our wimples wobbling, skidding around the corner through the open door of La Rossa's office. She was sitting behind her desk, tapping the top with her fingers. "Were you picking out each cucumber one by one, Helen? It took you long enough to get here."

When she calls me by my birth name, I know something's very wrong. "No, Mother. You know Roman traffic; Alberto got us here as soon as he could."

"Oh, you know that lout of a cab driver by name?"

I put my hand on hers to calm her. "What's wrong?"

She stood up and started pacing the floor. "We're having a Visitation from the Congregation for Religious. Cardinal Enrico Terranova, the first undersecretary himself."

"Is he a scary man, Mother Superior?" Sister Juliana murmured deferentially.

"When I told the Elephant, his knees started shaking. He threw on his cassock and started praying the Rosary in the Chapel immediately, after ordering Mavis to prepare a meal fit for the Holy Father himself." She fished in her desk drawer for a pack of cigarettes, then threw them on the table quickly without taking one out. "Crap, can't greet him with smoke on my breath."

"He's coming today?"

"In fifteen minutes. I expect him any moment. Mary Richard and Bernadette are getting the community books ready for him, and you'd better get the house accounts ready for him too, Squirt. Juli, you'll have to get the posh guest suite room for him: he won't be staying the night, but he'll need a room for a nap. Fresh fruit and spring water only: Cardinal Terranova doesn't drink or smoke. God only knows if the man has any vices."

"What about lunch?" I asked.

"He'll be eating with Carlo, it's only fitting the priests take their meal together. Squirt, this man is hell on wheels: the Visitation sisters got a list 64 pages long from his visit with them, and he was only there one day as well. Shoo, you two! Get to work!" As we left, Sister Mary Richard came in at double speed, gibbering, her hands outspread, and we closed the door behind her as we left, not wanting to hear what her issues were.

Sister Juliana flew down the hallway to the guest suite we reserve for the high ranking, and I ran back to my little office on the third floor. It took only five minutes to get the files and ledgers out, and I spent the remaining time before lunch dusting and making sure everything was as far from its usual clutter as humanly possible. The day was growing brighter, and fifteen minutes before lunch, Sister Juliana poked her head around the corner. "Do you think we can lay out today?"

I looked at the clock and did some math in my head. "Don't see why not? He's going to take his nap after lunch, and I'm sure it'll be close to suppertime before he gets up here. I've got everything ready here; did anyone give you a job right after lunch?"

"No, not yet. I think everyone's running around like chickens with their heads cut off. The suite is ready, and Rocco brought up some fresh flowers. We may have to line up for inspection any minute, but I don't think there's anything else I need to do. It's not like he's going to inspect every nook and cranny."

"As frightened as La Rossa was, he might." Sister Juliana started shaking and I touched her shoulder. "No, Sister Juli. Just teasing. He's enough of a terror as it is." The cloister bell rang, and we went to the refectory for our noon meal.

As we got there, we were instructed to stand along the wall in order of precedence, which meant Sister Juliana and I were at the end of a line of 25 nuns who lived at the Generalate. Cardinal Enrico Terranova was a short, thin man, with an ageless, drawn face the seemed incapable of humor, and his red zucchetto sat on a full head of dark hair slightly touched by grey. Our Chaplain, Monsignore Carlo Maria Farinelli, better known as the Elephant, and La Ross flanked him as he progressed down the line, speaking briefly to each sister. His eyes were grey and emotionless, and it took all my composure not to quiver when he looked me in the eyes. "Sister Mary Francis Xavier," he said blandly, "And what is your ministry here at the Generalate?"

"I'm in charge of the house accounts, purchases of all kinds, and the supervision of the grounds and maintenance."

"So how many employees do you supervise?"

"Just two, your Eminence. Rocco Salvatore our groundskeeper and Mavis Hazelton our cook and housekeeper."

"Yes, the handsome young man seems in need of some very strict supervision." His eyes glinted momentarily before a thought dulled them. "Housekeeper? Why do you need a housekeeper?"

"Ah, she's my housekeeper, Eminence," Monsignore Elephant cut in. "I pay part of her salary myself, and she \takes care of my apartment as well as cooking for all. The sisters take care of their own housecleaning as much as they are able."

The Cardinal's head nodded gravely, an eyebrow raising in question as he reached out to touch my chin with his index finger. "It seems you bear a resemblance to our distinguished Mother Superior, and you are from the same country. Are you related?"

"Yes, Eminence. Mother Superior Mary Rufus is my aunt, my mother's sister." Which is literally true: Patricia Parkhurst-Frazleton is my legal female parent, which would make Barbara Parkhurst-Frazleton (Mother Mary Rufus) my aunt even though she is my birth mother. The Cardinal didn't need to know the real relationship between us. 

The Prince of the Church continued: "Will you have your books ready for me later today?" 

"Yes, your Eminence."

"Good. I will be at your office at 1730." He moved down the line and spoke to Sister Juliana, but she was so frightened she could only warble simple yes and no answers to his questions. Nothing changed in the Cardinal's expression: I figured he was used to making people want to wet their knickers.

After lunch, La Rossa took me to my office and grilled me about the books for an hour before she was satisfied I was ready. It was 1400 before Sister Juliana and I were nude in our rooftop loungers for our regular siesta in the sun. The day had grown very warm, and my skin tingled as a breeze wandered over it from time to time. Sister Juliana was in a blissful realm of her own, her skin glistening with sun lotion, her lips in a relaxed smile and her eyes closed. 

We dared spend only an hour before returning to our clothes and our work. I was scouring the Internet for the latest news when the Cardinal entered my office with La Rossa in his wake.

A slight smile played on his lips as he took my seat to look through my ledgers. A forced frown replaced it quickly, and he looked through the pages methodically, touching his index finger to his mouth occasionally. La Rossa watched impassively, keeping a poker face, and tapping her fingers against her arm, a sign of her nerves. I stood quietly, shifting my weight from foot to foot

He finished the last book and looked at me over my own desk. "Tell me, Sister Mary Francis Xavier, where do you purchase the food for the Generalate?"

"I purchase it at the local markets here in Rome, your Eminence."

"The supermarkets?"

"No, your Eminence. I go to the markets where the produce comes in directly from the countryside and the docks. Everything I can't purchase there, I buy through a co-operative."

"Your expenses are far less than I expected them to be. Why don't you economize more, and contract directly with a local wholesaler?"

"Your Eminence, I am very particular about the quality of food my sisters have on their table. In spite of our simple fare, I feel it essential for our good health and wellbeing that we buy fresh and I inspect each item personally."

"Commendable, sister, Commendable. And your cook, Mrs. Mavis Hazleton, how do you justify adding her salary?"

"Your Eminence, I was able to create a small stipend for here by creating some economies in other categories, particularly by selling two automobiles that were sitting unused in our motor pool. Monsignore Farinelli augments her stipend, and she has a pension from England as well, so her employment here is not a burden."

"And how much does Monsignore Farinelli pay her for her. . .services?"

"Your Eminence, you will have to take that up with the Monsignore. The only expense of his that I'm aware of is the stipend for his services as our chaplain."

"Very well, Sister." He rose to leave and as he passed me by, he touched my chin and looked deep into my eyes. "You seem a little different this evening, Sister."

"How, your Eminence?"

"Something about your face has changed since lunch. What would that be?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, your Eminence."

A glint of inquiry appeared and left before he withdrew his hand and went through the door. La Rossa 

gave me a strange look as she left, and I shrugged my shoulders.

Dinner went quietly; La Rossa changed our table reading from Anna Karenina to City of God for that evening, and during the course of Evening Prayer the Cardinal looked back and forth between me and Sister Juliana when he thought we weren't looking at him. A half hour after we retired to our rooms, I was summoned to La Rossa's apartment, and met Sister Juliana in the hallway. "What's going on, Sister Franny?" she said.

"I don't know. We'll find out, I guess."

"Were we wrong to go out on the roof this afternoon?"

I shook my head. "We got our work done, my interview with the Cardinal went well, and I guess you didn't get visited. What do they have against us?"

Opening the door of La Rossa's apartment, I found her sitting cross legged in her dressing gown with the Cardinal standing before her, covered by his cape. "The Cardinal has a confession to make, after which he has a request of us."

Sister Juliana and I stood before the prelate, and he gestured us to sit. "I have a confession, sisters: I have sinned against you. The sin is the sin against Susanna as recounted in the thirteenth book of Daniel, I crept into the garden of your privacy and looked upon your loveliness while you were unaware. A passing reference by one of the sisters informed me of your early afternoon activity, and I could not resist seeing for myself. I am sorry for having offended you, and desire your forgiveness."

My friend's eyes opened wide in amazement. "You looked at us on the roof? You went up to the head of the stairwell and looked out the window at us?"

The old man looked very small as he nodded. "I am only human, Sister Juliana. I am a man and you are lovely young women, Satan tempted me to gaze upon your beauty unaware." I looked deep into his eyes: they were pleading, but in their depths there was a fire that contradicted his contrition.

"So where do we go from here?" I asked.

La Rossa recrossed her legs. "Cardinal Terranova practices mortification of the flesh. Since you were the means of his temptation, he feels you should be part of the purification of his spirit." She reached into her pocket and produce a couple of small leather flails. "You will give him 38 lashes, one less than Jesus received before he died. He will guide you."

The Prince of the Church opened his cloak to reveal his naked body underneath. Painfully thin, his skin was slightly wrinkled with calluses on his knees. He knelt before us immediately, making himself a ball while presenting his back and buttocks. As he went down, I noticed a healthy penis swinging slightly engorged. He kept his red zucchetto on his head. "Begin," La Rossa said.

Sister Juliana and I gave him very light taps at first, but at his urging increased their force until he was satisfied. His body quivered as we reddened the skin between his shoulder blades and his buttocks, but he remained mostly silent through his ordeal. We finished our count, and he spoke at last. 

"Thank you, Sisters, thank you. I am free." He rose to put on his cloak, and it was apparent his mind was not entirely free from his preoccupation: his penis was engorged and red, the end budding a drop of white dew. Looking down, he blushed and unsuccessfully tried to cover himself, his cock wobbling. "I am afraid I am not free after all. The Serpent of Eden that corrupted Eve plagues me still. What can I do to escape his clutches?"

I guided the old man to a soft chair nearby and knelt before him. "I will help you, your Eminence. With your permission, Mother Superior." La Rossa gave me a solemn look and nodded slowly, Sister Juliana stood nearby and just quivered.

Taking his manhood between my palms, I rubbed them back and forth, making him hard as an iron bar. His endowment was generous, long and thin, but not as overwhelming as our own Elephant's member. Slowly I moved up and down on his shaft, spreading the essence leaking from him as lubricant. I gave his balls a light tap and he groaned in acceptance. "Oh Sister, I am such a sinner," he murmured, "you know what I deserve." 

So I fell into a pattern by accident: spending several moments stroking him, bringing him closer and closer to ejaculation before favoring him with several stinging slaps with the palm of my hand. It became a game until I glanced sidelong at La Rossa, whose serious look told me it was time to finish my task. "Time to draw the venom from the serpent," I murmured, looking the Prelate straight in the eyes as I pushed him over the edge, coating his thighs and stomach with milky liquid that jetted from him for several moments until subsiding. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sister Juliana licking her lips, and La Rossa's eyebrows were raised high in astonishment. 

It took several more minutes for him to leave the dimension of contemplation he inhabited, and La Rossa fetched a silken cloth to clean him. Recovering his senses, he stood up, putting his cloak over him. "As your Mother Superior agreed, we will not speak of this evening's events again. I thank you for your attentions and your help in purifying my soul." Slipping on shoes, he paused as he passed me to murmur in my ear: "I am your friend, Sister. Any thing you wish from me is yours."

It was a week later I entered La Rossa's office to find her reading a letter. "Who's that from?" I asked.

"Our friend, Cardinal Terranova."

"Our friend? Who in Rome calls him that?"

"We do now. The Visitation Sisters got 64 pages of transgressions, the Sisters of St. Rhoda got 2 years outside supervision, and the French Dominicans still shudder when you mention his name, and his visit was 10 years ago. We get a one page letter commending us for our zeal."

"I guess because we are so brave in our battle agains the Serpent of Eden."

La Rossa put the letter down and we laughed until tears came from our eyes. "Squirt, you are so damn funny. What a crock: Serpent of Evil indeed!"

I shrugged my shoulders. "People are funny in the Church."

My Mother laughed out loud again and smiled broadly, her cheeks shining. "Child, that is an understatement."



St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 04



The Roman November was cold and chill. Steam clouded the kitchen windows as Mavis Hazelton, our cook, prepared the Noon meal at the Generalate. Mavis, a short, chubby woman in a white blouse and dark skirt, was usually disheveled by the middle of the day, but today she had a panicked look about her. As I entered, she caught my eye and said frantically: "Helen, you've got ta do something about her, you have to get her out of my hair. She's me own flesh and blood and I love her, but she's driving me crazy, the poor gel. Monsignore Elephant is growling with frustration, and I have to keep him happy somehow. Please, Helen, please."

She had to be talking about her granddaughter, Betsy Birkitt, and her lover, Monsignore Carlo Maria Farinelli, otherwise known as the Elephant. Betsy had been in the country for a long holiday after his twin sister's wedding to Kieran Hali, an Anglican seminarian I'd known from England. "I'm busy this afternoon, Aunt Mavis. I have to go over to the Cardinal's office while they're on siesta and check on the books for him."

"That's three times you've been there this month, Helen," she said, shaking her head while stirring a pot. "I suspect there's something going on between you two."

"No, Aunt Mavis, there isn't. His Eminence isn't even around while I'm there, he's terrorizing the Philippine Dominicans this month and all I'm doing is a bit of secret auditing. It's part of the price of keeping his friendship."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I'll never know what you Romans are up to, there's wheels within wheels with your lot."

"Like the Church of England is devoid of politics and chicanery?" I said, tapping my foot impatiently.

"All right, point taken." Stirring a pot with more enthusiasm than necessary, she begged: "Can ye get her out of my hair tonight, at least? You and Sister Juli take her to your dance club and let her get some energy out of her system? Please, Helen, please?"

"The way you've been running around the past three weeks? I'd think she was tired."

"My family is infamous for its stamina, especially the women," she said proudly. "We saw everything in Venice, Florence and Naples, and still had enough to run around Rome for three days." A sigh escaped her lips and she shrugged her shoulders. "She's tired of sightseeing, wants to have some fun, and neither one of us can have it if we're stuck with each other all the time." A timer went off and she pulled a pan of rolls out of the oven, putting it on the counter to cool. "And I'm worried."

"Worried? How?"

She looked around and lowered her voice. "I'm worried the Elephant will get her. What he might do to her if he found her alone."

"I don't understand. Isn't he happy with you?" I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

She shrugged her shoulders. "She's young and beautiful, and his eye might wander. Men are all alike, especially one as virile as Carlo is. I want her to find a young man and have a family, be happy like her twin sister is, not be the concubine of some greasy old Italian priest."

I shook my head. "I still don't understand completely. Some people might say you're the concubine of a greasy old Italian priest."

"Yes, but I've had my family and my home and I've earned my chance at a little fun. I don't have a future like she does, poor gel at the start of her life. The Elephant might ruin her for other men."

"I see your point. So you want me to get her out of the way. . ."

"So I can make some time for Carlo and me. I didn't come here to be a nun."

I spread my hands and nodded. "Okay, Aunt Mavis, I'll set something up. I'll get her out of here after Evening Prayers. Is that enough time for you?"

"More than. I've considered hauling him into a closet, I'm so randy."

It took me a moment to work through that image, which was difficult since I didn't think we had any closets big enough for Mavis and the Elephant to do anything significant. "Just let me check with La Rossa. Need to know if she wants us for anything else tonight."

A quick cell phone call, and we were free. Sister Juliana was relieved to be going out; it had been almost a month since we'd been dancing and she was getting cabin fever. I found her ironing purificators and corporals in the laundry room with a worried look on her face. "I'm going crazy, Sister Franny. It's too cold to use the roof afternoon, and I miss the sun. Winter's always my least favorite season. And something's wrong with Senora Mavis: the Elephant's been chasing me again!"

"Tonight should help both your problems, Sister Juli. I'm ready to get out of here, even if it means babysitting a relative."

"Senora Mavis' granddaughter?"

"You don't know the half of it. I knew the twins when I was living in England: we were all kids at St. Dunstan's together, and I'd just swum the Tiber when Vicar Alfred came to town. The girls were on the prowl all the time, and I think they set their caps on the Vicar until Agnes Sterns landed him."

"Didn't she have that accident in Kansas. . .?"

"Yes, but don't get me sidetracked. When Kieran Hali came to live with the Vicar, the girls adjusted their sights and had a little competition for him. Beatrice won, and Aunt Mavis went to their wedding last month in England, bringing Betsy back for an extended recuperation after losing."

"I see. But what's the other connection? Did this Kieran mean something to you?"

"He's my half brother." Sister Juliana's jaw dropped and she gasped. "My birth father was an Irish Holy Ghost Father who was an African Missionary."

"I've heard of those Holy Ghost Fathers," Sister Juliana said with fear, crossing herself. "They were absolutely wicked."

"Yes, I know. It explains a bit about me, doesn't it?" She nodded her head and shut her mouth. "Anyway, he was in Nigeria where Kieran's mother was a young novice, and impregnated her about a year after she impregnated my birth mother. The younger Kieran came to our convent for a individual retreat once, we started talking to each other, and that's how we found out we were brother and sister. The only thing we have in common is red hair, but we've become good friends and stayed in touch."

"I thought you were an only child, Sister Franny. This is so charming: being raised apart and not even knowing. . ."

I nodded my head. "So I know from both sides what Betsy is like. We'll have to stick to her like glue: she's likely to wander off and get into all kinds of trouble."

"How come?"

"She's like her grandmother: insatiable."

Sister Juliana crossed herself again.

After Evening Prayer, Sister Juliana and I changed clothes, meeting Betsy by the door to the Elephant's wing. She had on a coat and otherwise looked nice without overdoing it, so I didn't say anything about her appearance. It was different for her: "Wow, I'd never think you were nuns! You look amazing! Where did your get those earrings, Juli?"

I had to translate since Sister Juliana didn't speak English. She only blushed in reply and didn't say anything. It seemed like there was a racket coming from the Chaplain's rooms, but the others didn't seem to hear it and I didn't draw their attention to the fact. We took a motorpool car, and I resolved to be the designated driver for the evening: looking after Betsy and Sister Juliana in public was going to require a clear head.

The Pyramid club was only half full when we arrived, and when we checked our coats, I realized my worst fears were realized. Betsy wore a silver top with spaghetti straps that shone and highlighted her dramatic cleavage, with an extremely short black shirt that displayed her shapely legs. A full foot taller than I, she looked around the room hungrily as we entered. "Betsy, we need to be careful tonight," I murmured at her. "Stay with us, and play it safe."

"I've been playing it safe for months, Helen," she said, shaking her head in negation. "Time to have some fun. Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything that'll get me into trouble." Sister Juliana trembled and shrunk to my side.

We found a table for our purses, and hit the dance floor, reveling in the space available. "This is just the ticket, sis," Betsy shouted over the music.

"Sis? You mean Sister Mary Frances Xavier, don't you?" I replied.

"Naw, Kieran told me about you two. Your brother married my sister, so I guess we're sisters now."

"That's a stretch, Betsy, and you know it."

"Hey, loosen up, it's all good. We got lots of time. Gran wants her time alone with the Elephant Man, and doesn't want to share him. Your gardener's a nice kid, but you've got him well trained: I couldn't get a rise out of him with Guy Fawkes' gunpowder stash. Just gonna dance to the music, hang with you two, drink like a fish, let the boys look at my tits, and let you pour me into bed when the night's over. What could be wrong with that?"

"What did she say?" Sister Juliana asked with concern.

"You don't want to know," I replied in Italian, and shook my head knowing how little I could reason with Betsy, or how little Sister Juliana would understand. Betsy hadn't changed since she was a teenager.

Taking a break from the dance floor, Betsy got Sister Juliana to try some Scotch. After a few tentative sips, my comrade grew accustomed to the taste and started keeping up with Betsy. "You're corrupting this young nun, Betsy. La Rossa will never forgive you for this: we go through enough Scotch in a month as it is."

"Loosen up, Helen. Old Barbie may squawk a bit, but she's not going to send you or her home over this, is she?" I grimaced at her calling my Mother something she would never tolerate in person, and bit my tongue as I sipped my Coca Cola. "Hey, what's that door over in the corner?"

I took a look and was grateful for the dim light hiding my facial expression. "It's the VIP club, for those who can afford it. They don't let just anyone in there, and we don't have enough cash with us."

"Won't they let us in? I bet some rich toff'll shell out."

"These guys are rich enough bring their own women, they're too good to cruise with the common classes out here." The music picked up after a break, and Betsy moved out onto the floor.

"Was she asking about the sex club?" Sister Juliana asked as we followed her.

"Yes, but I told her another story. We definitely don't need her going in there."

"Or us, either," she giggled mischievously. I rolled my eyes and tried to get into the spirit of the music.

The others had worked their way through one bottle of Scotch and had started a second when my cell phone went off around 2300. "Squirt, I need you to get up to Florence right now," La Rossa said urgently.

"I can't."

"What do you mean, can't? Sister Prudence got loose again, and they found her on the Ponte Vecchio begging alms for pregnant fathers. How she got up to Florence is a mystery to me. They're holding her at the station; you need to get up there now to collect her."

"Dressed like this?"

"Yes, dressed like this. What's your problem?"

"I'm out with Betsy and Juli and they're already two sheets to the wind."

There was a silence on the other end. "Shit," she said at last. "I'll have to send Lucia out to meet them. Tell them to stay where they are until she gets there."

"We're at the. . ."

"I know where you are, Squirt. Lucia will come in civvies. Juli's sober enough to look after the car keys, isn't she?"

"Yes, at this moment, she is."

"That will have to do. Get on the first train to Florence, now!"

"Yes, Mother."

It took several moments to drag my companions to the side table we were using. "I have to run, La Rossa has an urgent job for me. Sister Lucia's going to meet you here; stay put until she gets here. Don't go anywhere."

"What if we have to go to the loo?" Betsy asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"Go together, as usual. If you don't behave Betsy, God help you, I'll tell your Grandmother what happened in the convent fruit orchard when you were fourteen."

A look of shock crossed her face. "You wouldn't, Helen, surely you wouldn't."

"You know better, I damn well would. Now I'll tell Juli in Italian what's going on. At the rate she's going, you'll have to make sure she doesn't pass out. You've taken her Scotch virginity, so she's your responsibility."

Betsy pouted and shook her head. "Shit, Helen. You're no fun."

"I don't have to be." 

It took a few moments to fill Sister Juliana in, and she looked concerned when I mentioned Sister Prudence. "Sister Prudi's really lost it in the last month. We'll have to lock her up."

"Take the keys, Juli, and keep them until Lucia gets here. Stay with Betsy wherever she goes."

Sister Juliana made a valiant effort at being sober and reasonable. "Sure, Franny. Sister Lucia's a terror: she'll keep this girl in line."

I barely made the train. It was mostly empty, and I had to fend off several interested men since I wasn't wearing my habit. It must have been the hoop earrings, even though they're clip ons. As the dark miles when by, I was glad Sister Lucia was on her way: she was a formidable woman who could handle any situation. I respected and trusted her completely.

A cab to the station, and I found Sister Prudence there in the wee hours, patiently trying to persuade her captors that she was on a Holy Mission. "But, their wives are having babies and they don't know where they are. It's such a shame, how these men are laughed at. Oh, Sister Mary Frances, I'm glad you're here. You look lovely my child, you must have been dancing."

"Come, Sister. We need to go home, La Rossa needs you for something important. You can come back here tomorrow."

"But Sister, I'm needed here for something important."

"Isn't it nice to be needed? We'll never have to worry about not having something important to do. The men will be still be here tomorrow, come with me now."

Looking up at me with serious blue eyes and a blank face, she said. "All right, Sister."

On the way back, I got her distracted by talking about various things, following her wandering train of thought and keeping her going until she fell asleep in the seat. Unfortunately, there were some big problems on the track ahead of us, and it took six hours to make the trip instead of the usual time, so it was after Morning Prayer we found ourselves back at the Generalate. All was quiet as I put Sister Prudence in the Infirmary, safe and secure, and changed into my habit for the day.

Half hour after I got behind my desk and properly caffinated for the day. Sister Lucia came into my office. She's a medium sized woman in her mid 60's with large brown eyes, from an aristocratic Czech family. Her Italian was almost flawless with a faint trace of an accent, and she spoke six other languages fluently, including English. Her role in the community was Vice Superior: she traveled almost as much as La Rossa did, and it was rare they were both in Rome apart from General Council meetings. "Sister, do you have a few moments?" she asked in a soft voice that belied her wisdom and authority.

"Surely, Sister Lucia. How can I help you?"

"I was asked to take over for you last night, and I wanted to tell you how things went after you left."

My ears perked up immediately, but I tried to keep a straight face. "Yes, I appreciate your coming out to chaperone the girls. How did it go?"

"Well, it was an evening like none I've had for a long time. When I got to the Pyramid, the girls were finishing a bottle of Scotch that wasn't their first. Very silly, and barely able to stand up straight. They weren't able to communicate much to one another, but Betsy's picked up some Italian, Juli's picked up a bit of English, and I imagine the Scotch made up the difference."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes. When I came up to their table, Juli was pointing over to the door and saying 'Sex club' in English. Betsy took her hand, saying 'you gotta stay with me' as they wobbled to the door, convincing the attendant to let them in by revealing her breasts."

"Oh shit, no."

"Yes, Sister. I managed to slip in just behind them, thinking they would get lost or confused so I could lead them out of there without fuss. They found the door to a rather large booth open, and we all went in. A large video monitor dominated the room, and it was still running when we entered: I imagine the previous occupant had paid for more than they wanted to watch.

Shit, I said to myself again silently. At least they were in there without men. "And what happened next, Sister Lucia?"

"They watched these two people copulate in an acrobatic position, I believe the woman was standing on her head, which made the girls a little queasy. Then the Englishwoman noticed a hole in the wall and almost jumped for joy. 'I've heard of these' she squealed, and immediately exposed her left breast, which she stuck through the hole as far as she could."

"Oh shit to holy heavens, no."

"Yes. I swear, that is a child of her grandmother: I can't believe how big her breasts are, she couldn't get half of it through a fairly large hole. In a moment, she was happy to find someone paying her nipple some attention and just savored that for a while. 'You have to try this, Juli,' she said, but Sister Juliana shook her head no. Then Betsy, I believe, pulled her breast back and reached through the wall, pulling a large, erect penis back through it. 'I'm not going to get into trouble, Sister,' she smirked, and began to lick and suck the member."

"My goodness, no."

"Yes. I say she was quite good at it, because very shortly a huge load of sperm jetted out onto her breasts while a series of moans came from the next room. The cock disappeared, to be replaced by another, then another, all of them huge. Your English friend was ecstatic, drinking from yet another bottle of Scotch and sharing the liquor with Sister Juliana. Juli just watched in disbelief; I don't think she's ever seen anything like it before. I believe the English had eight or nine men ejaculate on her skin before she pronounced herself satisfied."

I shook my head sadly. "I believe you, Sister. She's done it before."

"I could tell. After she sat back, another penis appeared and she encouraged Juli to give it a try."

"Oh no."

"Please say something else, Franny. Juli started stroking the cock, getting fascinated with tracing every curve with her hand. Then Betsy said, 'Suck it like a lollipop, Juli. See how good it is.' 'I don't think I can,' Juli said, licking her lips. 'Take a slug of Scotch and just do it.' Sister Juli took a slug of Scotch, made a face, and sucked the end into her mouth. Betsy encouraged her: 'Run your tongue on the ridges, lick the underside. Take another slug if you need it, he'll like it, too.' Juli kept sucking and drinking until a voice on the other side said: 'I'm gonna cum'. 'Swallow it, Juli, swallow it,' Betsy encouraged and with a great moan it was clear he reached his orgasm. Juli made a big face while Betsy held her shoulders, and after he pulled out, Juli took a huge drink, smiled and said: 'That wasn't so bad', and passed out on the spot."

I dreaded something like this might happen. Sister Lucia probably hadn't told La Rossa this story yet, and I doubted the girls remembered what happened, so things hadn't leaked and this might be safely forgotten by all concerned. Knowing Aunt Mavis, they would have gotten gold stars. "So how did you get them home?"

"I had to wait until they woke up, and since Betsy passed out as well, that took a while. There was another penis in the hole, so it had to be dealt with."

"Dealt with?" I didn't like where this seemed to be heading.

Sister Lucia shook her head and smiled. "Do you young people think you invented everything? I was one of the few flower children behind the Iron Curtain. I performed fellatio more times than I can remember before I entered the convent, and took care of the occasional frisky prelate over the years. It's good to know I've still got it."




St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 04



"Still got it?"

"Yes, Sister Franny, now don't look so surprised. I took over at that glory hole and serviced seven more cocks until the supply ran out. Gave my tummy a warm feeling, and that wonderful taste is still on my tongue. After the first one, I took my dentures out, the false teeth were getting in the way, and every time I started after, the man cried out: 'Oh my God, it's a gummer!' Evidently, they're very popular."

I shook my head and took a big gulp of coffee to clear my head. The image of Sister Lucia at the glory hole sucking cocks with her false teeth beside her didn't leave my imagination very easily. After I gathered my wits, I could only say: "I'm glad you got them home all right."

"My pleasure, Sister, my pleasure. And please don't worry, this'll be our little secret if you so wish it."

"I do, Sister Lucia, I do."

Sister Juliana looked horrible at lunch, and wasn't in the mood to talk. Betsy wasn't sociable either, but Aunt Mavis and the Elephant glowed enough to power the city for a week. La Rossa called me up just after lunch: "Well, Squirt, I see you survived. How did the night out with the girls go?"

"Well enough, I think. Sister Lucia seemed to have a good time with them when she caught up."

"Good. We're going to send Sister Prudence to the Infirmary in the country, we'll need to keep her under close control for now on. Fortunately, there's room in the Altzheimer's wing right now. Thanks for bringing her back on short notice. It seems like Mavis and Monsignore were happy to have some quality time, so everything's right with the world." She looked up at me with a worried look. "It's a good thing it's winter: you look like you need a nap instead of some time in the sun."

"You can say that again." I caught a glance of myself in a mirror on the side wall and regretted it immediately.

She chuckled. "I won't, although I'm tempted. Betsy's going back to England in a couple of days, so things should get back to normal around here very soon."

Thinking about Sister Juliana's introductions to Scotch and cocksucking, I doubted it.



St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 05



It's always strange to sleep in the room you occupied as a kid. You look back and wonder: it's so familiar and yet it feels like a stranger's room. Aunt Patty lived with Grandmother Lucinda when I was a teenager, so when I bailed out of St. George's Convent on this trip home, she put me up in my old room. She meant well; she always means well, even when her taste is in clever crap rich people without taste buy thinking they're cultured when they're basically ignorant. When I was a kid, I loved the smell of lavender and someone made sure the room was permeated with it. Pink lace used to be a favorite of mine: it was covering the four poster bed I slept in, the windows, even the lampshades, and if they'd made a rug out of the stuff, a sample would be on the floor. Aunt Patty meant well; she always did. I'm glad it doesn't drive me as crazy now as it did when I was young. 

I was sleeping in my old room because I was back in England for Amanda Sterns' wedding. Mandy and I'd been best friends growing up, and La Rossa gave me permission to attend the nuptials back at St. Dunstan's parish where we all grew up. I'd known her grandmother Mary my entire life, she was a surrogate grandparent to go along with my flesh and blood grandmother (I never knew my father's mother, or my father, as far as that goes), and Mary was the solicitor for St George's convent as well as a dear friend of La Rossa's, so it something I couldn't miss. La Rossa herself was going to come to the festivities, but a last minute emergency required her personal attention, so Sister Lucia took her place, bringing my friend Sister Juliana with her. We'd gotten into Heathrow on an early flight, but there were far too many snickers at the convent refectory, pointed remarks and dirty looks about a relationship I'm supposed to be having with a Cardinal in Rome, so I was able to convince them my adoptive mother and I needed some quality time while I was home. My Aunt was delighted I was staying with her, and treated me like a princess after I crossed her threshhold.

Aunt Patty was someone I grew up calling Mom: she adopted me as a baby just before she divorced her husband. Later on I discovered La Rossa gave birth to me after an affair with a red headed Irish missionary, and childless Patty offered to raise me so La Rossa could stay in the convent. Aunt Patty and I had our clashes, but she was kind and I am grateful for all she's done for me. And I love her dearly, usually from a distance.

Grandmother Lucinda Parkhurst-Frazelton's mansion is a grand old English manor, but like many old buildings, the ductwork and the wiring are afterthoughts. That night I discovered how oddly the ductwork connected when distant voices came through the vent:

"What is Madame's desire this evening?" It was the voice of Willikins, the old family butler. He'd worked for Grandmother forever and now he was evidently working for Aunt Patty; like most loyal retainers he was formal with the adults and delightfully informal and charming with any children in the household. When it was just us in the playroom or the grounds, I called him Uncle Jerry and he called me Helena of Troy. 

"I think I would like to be rogered from behind again, with your authoritative hand chastising my naughty backside, Willikins." I shook under the covers at the sound of Aunt Patty's voice; my God, this must be like walking in on one's parents having sex. 

"Very good, Madame, but I fear I am temporarily unable to comply with your request."

"Oh, Willikins? How can that be?"

"Yes, Madame. I am afraid after last night's exertions, my ability to provide you with the tumescence you are accustomed to is compromised. My hand is also somewhat sore after throughly chastising your naughty backside from last night as well."

"Be not afraid, dearest Willikins. I have brought my riding crop up from the stable in anticipation of this very circumstance, and I would be happy to provide some oral stimulation to restore your remarkable tumescent capability."

"That would be very good, Madame."

"One caveat: if you should appreciate my performance of fellatio to the extent you should ejaculate your semen prematurely, I shall chastise you appropriately for not waiting until my orgasmic needs are met before relinquishing your most delicious offering."

"Understood, Madame. I place my humble member in your care, and trust your discretion to advise me when to commence my penetration of your vagina from behind as you requested."

Willikins had always been a thin man in excellent shape, but Aunt Patty was another story. Our family genes gave my mother an excellent figure that she has kept up thanks to the austerity of religious life, but Aunt Patty had allowed her body to get seriously out of shape. I saw her in her nightgown just before she went to bed that night: she had a pot belly and her breasts hung down over it, with her nipples hovering around her waistline. Thinking of the two of the together strengthened my commitment to chastity.

"Thank you, Madame. Your skills are undiminished. If you would do me the kindness of licking your way down the shaft of my penis to spend some time sucking my testicles, it would improve my ability to provide the 'Rock Hard Erection' you so earnestly desire."

It was an unusually hot June night, and I was already sweating under the covers in spite of the fact I slept in the nude. For once, I wished my deafness hadn't been cured two years earlier, and I marveled for a moment at the thought they may have been having this kind of sex throughout my entire childhood. Then I shuddered, threw off the covers and went down to the Library to find a book to read.

The Library was a little cooler than my bedroom, but the sounds of my Aunt's lovemaking were audible there as well, so I gave up on finding a book and sat on the couch to see what was on the Telly. One of the satellite channels was having a marathon rebroadcast of early "Who's Line Is It Anyway?" episodes, so I put one foot on the seat, one knee in the air, hugged my leg and laughed at the antics of Josie Lawrence, Tony Slattery and Michael McShane again.

An hour later, the Library door opened to reveal Willikins in a dignified robe and pajamas. "Good evening, Miss Helen. Is there anything you would require before I retire? Some warm milk perhaps, with cinnamon and vanilla?"

I smiled: he'd offered me my favorite bedtime drink when I was a kid. "No, Uncle Jerry, I'm fine. I'll be turning in soon. And by the way, you don't have to sign to me any more; after the operation I can hear just fine."

He gave me a sad nod of his head, realizing his mistake, "Very good, Helena of Troy. I see you are still covered in freckles."

Willikins had bathed me when I was little, and it didn't startle him to find me sitting naked on the couch. My body had filled out modestly since childhood, and I'm sure my cropped red hair looked awful. The way I sat on the couch, with my foot next to my crotch on the seat, gave him a fairly good view of my red pubic hair and lower lips. I decided to brazen it out in the grand British aristocratic tradition and act as if nothing were wrong. "Yes, I guess I can't outgrow them Uncle Jerry." For a moment, I spotted a strange glint in his eye, but I remembered he had spent his libido on Aunt Patty and felt I was safe with him. "In some ways we never change, do we, Uncle Jerry?"

He nodded gravely, with a subtle smile on his lips. "Indeed, Helena. Good evening to you, then."

"Good evening, Uncle Jerry. Sleep well."

He gave me a knowing smirk and closed the door without a sound.

The next morning I slept in, and spent a delightful morning sitting with Aunt Patty on the back balcony enjoying croissants, orange marmalade and Earl Grey Tea. She gave no indication of her exertions of the evening before, although her robe was open farther down her sternum than I was comfortable with. Willikins served us with his usual grace as though nothing were amiss. Just before noon, Amanda Sterns dropped in and I met her in a drawing room near the front door. She is my age, well built like her older sister Agnes, only with long dark hair and sapphire blue eyes. Wearing a flowered sun dress, she almost crushed my ribs with her welcoming hug. "Hey, Helen, how's it going? Just like old times, what?"

"Yeah, Mandy. Sorry to hear about Agnes."

Her smile faded for a moment. "Yeah. Took us all aback, so sudden. Don't seem like nine months ago. I don't think Aggie really got the hang of America."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, as far as I can figure, she looked to her right before stepping off the curb and the bus was on top of her when she looked left. The driver was surprised, didn't have time to break."

I gave her a big hug that lasted several moments. "I know you miss her. I miss her, too."

A tear came to her eye. "I know. She was going to be. . .Oh Christ, can't start that." Amanda forced a smile and fought off the waterworks. "We're going to have a lovely afternoon in the sun, a wonderful time tonight, a lovely day at Brighton tomorrow, and Saturday the wedding bells will ring for me."

"Is the Vicar. . .?"

"No," came the curt reply. "Helen, how long has it been? My God, you never put on a pound. I thought all nuns got fat after they took the veil."

"A lot of them do, Mandy. Not me, I like being skinny and I'm staying that way. I do my workouts, and control what I eat. You should see Sister Juli, she's one of the few skinny Sicilian nuns in the universe."

"Will she be there tonight?"

"Yes, and Sister Lucia."

"Not your Aunt Barbara?"

"No, she had some urgent business in Zambia, she wishes she could be here but hopes you'll understand that being the international head of a community of nuns means you don't have a life of your own. I promised to send her pictures."

"Aw, I understand. Who's Lucia?"

"She's the Number 2 in the community, from the Czech republic. Your grandmother's known her for decades, too. A great gal, you'll meet her tonight."

"Super. Is there still that private part of the garden where Willikins can't see anything. . .?"

"Yes, Mandy. Things never change around here. Sometimes I still think I'm going to see Grandmama charging around the corner any moment, her face set on some urgent task."

Amanda nodded. "She was a true Lady, Helen, a true lady." She held up a straw bag with some supplies in it: "I brought some Gin, smoked Edam cheese, biscuits and sunscreen."

"Super." 

"It'll be just like we were teenagers, spending an afternoon naked in the sun. Do you still lie out?"

"Oh yes, the Generalate roof is lovely and private. Sister Juli will witness."

"I see you're a little pale right now."

"Been a busy girl, and it's been a rainy spring in Rome."

"Let's go."

The garden was secluded, and we spent the entire afternoon sun worshipping, cavorting wet in an expected mid afternoon downpour as nymphs frolicking in a Renaissance painting. She left at tea time, and after nibbling a few biscuits and sipping some tea, I got ready for Amanda's Hen Party.

It started just after Tea time, located at the nicest club in the neighborhood. I put on my usual Roman dancing clothes, and was surprised to find Sisters Lucia and Juliana wearing their habits. "What gives?" I asked Sister Juli.

"Sister Lucia insisted," Sister Juli replied. "She understands you're among old friends, Sister Franny, but Lucia can be rather traditional at times."

"Tell me about it. Hello, Sister Lucia." Sister Lucia is a medium sized woman in her mid 60's with large brown eyes from an aristocratic Czech family.

"Hello, Sister Mary Francis Xavier. This is quite a charming celebration this evening."

"Yes, Sister. Amanda is a very old friend of mine."

"I quite understand. I was a maid of honor a couple of my childhood friends' weddings before I took the veil. A night to be remembered, no?"

We passed through to the buffet and helped ourselves to some wonderful fare, but I had to greet a number of old friends and acquaintances en route, so I ended up half way across the room from them when I found my seat.

The party was in full gear, and I was glad we weren't playing any of the traditional hen party games. We were eating, drinking and talking, catching up with people we grew up with. I landed at a small table with Mary Sterns, Amanda's grandmother, who was sitting with her old friend Sheila Button. Mary looked stunning in a blue business suit and bottle red hair; I would have guessed her in her early sixties. "How's it going, Squirt?"

"Fine, Grandma Mary, fine. Good to see ya, Aunt Sheila, how's it going? How's your family?" 

Sheila was a tall, handsome woman with silver hair, she wore a blue silk blouse and dark slacks. Her husband died suddenly several years before, and she had settled down with a new bloke out West a few years earlier. "I'm fine, Helen, and they're all fine, too. Glad to see you as well. I take it Rome agrees with you."

"Oh yes. I stay busy cruising the markets." They snickered; remembering my wild years. "You just came back from Kansas, didn't you, Grandma Mary? How it's going for you?"

"I've been better. But this is a grand event we've looked forward to for years and I'm glad we could finally get it done. Doesn't our Mandy look happy?" Amanda was dancing with some friends across the room, wearing a halter top and black shorts, her hands in the air. 

"She sure does. If Brendan doesn't treat her right, I'll call the Wrath of God down on him."

"Very good, Helen, very good. How's Barbie Doll Mary Rufus La Rossa."

I could tell by her speech she had been sipping Scotch for a while, and she was halfway through a Havana. "She's all right," I replied "Been working too hard lately."

"Yes, that business in Zambia is very tricky indeed," Mary agreed. "Barbie can handle it, she's got spunk."

"How's the Vicar?"

They looked away in different directions; I touched a nerve. I sipped my drink and watched the girls dance for a minute, then a fanfare blared over the sound system. "What the. . .?" I stuttered.

The older women looked at each other for a moment, then laughed. "The entertainment, Helen. The dancer."

"Dancer?"

"Male Stripper." They looked at me, expecting me to go spare, then looking disgusted when I didn't. "Christ, Helen, nothing really bothers you, does it?"

"You'd be surprised." The girls started clapping as a well built young man took the stage wearing a cowboy outfit and a Union Jack. Only in England. He moved with grace, doing acrobatics and flirting with several of the women close to the stage. "I've seen stranger things than this."

Sheila snorted. "I don't doubt it. You must have done everything before you repented."

I laughed and Mary sighed. A moment passed for she resumed talking: "He's taking it too hard, Alfred is, he's lost without her," she said solemnly. "Like a typical American man. Spends almost all his time on the job; he must be the busiest Episcopal bishop in America, our Alfred, and when he's not at work he's taking care of his kids. Three little ones under age five are enough for two parents. They don't know what happened, they don't really understand yet. But our Alfred's a shell of what he used to be."

A trick of the light put more lines on Mary's face that I saw a moment before. The old Vicar of St. Dunstan's, the Reverend Alfred was dear to a lot of people. I made a try for him when he was at the Convent at a retreat a few years ago. But La Rossa hadn't mentioned his name since we moved to Rome, and ever since the accident that took his wife Agnes nine months before, the Quilting Ladies hadn't talked about him, either.

Sheila shook herself and touched Mary's shoulder. "Tonight's a celebration, Mary. Your Amanda's getting married to a wonderful bloke in a coupla days. We've got some wonderful Scotch, and you've got your Havanas. Everything else will work out. Put off having another cry."

"You're right, Sheila, you're right. Hey, Helen, you used to love the Havanas. Game to try another one?"

I looked at the stage and noticed the dancer had lost his outfit. A body builder, who knows what he did for his day job: his muscles were very defined, his butt was tight and blazoned with a lightning tattoo. He was now shaking his long penis in the faces of screaming young women, and I thought a nice cigar would give me some distance should he come close. "Sure Mary, let's fire another one up," I said, licking my lips.

Mary produced a fine cigar from her purse, trimming it and holding it out to me. I licked around the cylinder, savoring the promise of the fine experience to come, and took a deep whiff before putting it between my lips. Lighting a long match, I held it to the end of the cigar, rotating it to prepare for ignition to a perfect circle of fire, then sucked the end to call it to life. The sweet aroma and love bite of the tobacco caressed my senses, and I savored the first sweet intake before blowing a perfect smoke ring. My companions laughed and poured me a Scotch.

The dancer, paraded up to us, swinging his salami in a circular motion. "What ho!" he shouted, "There's dragons in these parts. See how they're breathing fire." Waving his hands, he futilely tried to blow our smoke away from the area. "Maybe a gallant knight can slay them with his lance." 

I put my cigar in my mouth, puffing on it until the end glowed, and reached out my hand. "Give it whirl, Sir Lancelot. Show us what you're made of." Then I blew a large smoke ring straight at his groin.

For a moment, there was a genuine look of fear on his face, and he broke character. Mary and Sheila smiled demurely, and I kept my plume of smoke flowing at him. At last, he recovered and gave us a great show of panic, turning to keep his member away from our cigars (Sheila had started one as well) before laying his limp noodle on an unaware blond nearby, laughing at her shock when she discovered it above her ear and laughing as he shoved it in her face to make her suck it.

It was funny watching him work the crowd. He produced a can of cream and was spraying it on his cannoli, asking women to lick it off. Many of them did, including Amanda and all of her bridesmaids. Jumping on a table, he made a great show of doing pushups, making his semi-hard cock bob close to the groom's mother's face and running away quickly when she removed her dentures with a wicked grin. 

It surprised me when he got to the far end of the crowd, where Sisters Lucia and Juliana were sitting in full habit, smiling and clapping with the music. For a moment he didn't know what to do, looked embarrassed to be in their presence, but Sister Juli started stroking his chest, tracing his muscles, and the man relaxed enough to resume his act. The women started going into a frenzy when they realized what was going on, shouting "Go for it, Sister!" "Betcha don't see THAT in the Convent!" "Try some salami for a change!", and shrieking periodically. 

Sister Juli worked her way down to his thighs, teasing him with her hands, coming close to touching his serpent from time to time, pretending she was about to suck him in, and turning away at the last moment. He stayed with her longer than he had any other, since they crowd was going crazy and he was obvious hoping for some good tips later on. 

Suddenly, Sister Lucia, a dignified woman in her mid sixties, reached over and started stroking his cock, making it incredibly hard and taking the crowd to a new level of fever pitch. The dancer's face had dropped its playful pretense and taken on a look of lust, moving with Sister Lucia's rhythm and licking his lips. She teased him for several moments as well, licking her lips right next to his moist skin. Finally Sister Juli leaned over and took him in her mouth, bobbing up and down on the end of his cock and stroking his balls. The girls started clapping and swaying in unison; Mary and Sheila were glowing as they puffed their cigars and I drank my Scotch in one gulp, pouring myself another quickly. Sister Lucia started slapping her face with his sausage, hitting her tongue with the end, before engulfing him to the screams of the crowd. 




St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 05



The dancer's face went into a spasm. He pulled out, squirting his own special decoration all over the nun's faces. The chant of "Yes, Yes, Yes," came from the entire Hen Party, almost making the wall shake with their volume, stomping and clapping like wild women. My companions put down their drinks, stood up and joined them, while I stood partly in fascination and party in incredulity, wishing I was anywhere else.

The party went on for a while after that. I made it home somehow, I don't really remember the details well, but I remember slipping out of my clothes to get into the pink lace monstrosity of my childhood. I must have smoked two or three cigars from the taste in my mouth, and I drank three glasses of water before I went to bed to fend off tomorrow's inevitable hangover. After turning out the light, the room went into a slow spin that made me drowsy, and the room was cool enough I didn't want to throw off the covers. Just as I was losing consciousness, I heard distant voices through the vents, familiar voices:

"What is Madame's desire this evening?" 

"I think I would like to be rogered from behind, with your authoritative hand chastising my naughty backside, Willikins." 

"Yes, Madame. I am afraid after last night's exertions, my ability to provide the tumescence you are accustomed to is compromised."

"I would be happy to provide some oral stimulation to restore your remarkable tumescent capability."

"That would be very good, Madame."

As I lost consciousness, one thought filled my mind: Gosh, their sex life is dull.



St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 06



The bark of the tree was rough against my skin, but I didn't mind. The August Roman night was a typical steam bath, and my room was still too sultry to sleep in. Sister Juliana was in the south on a family visit; La Rossa was in Jerusalem for a conference; Sister Lucia, our second in command, was out of town as well; and only the sisters without families or friends were stuck in town. I was on my own for one of the few times in my life. So after Evening Prayer, I disrobed without worry and climbed a tree naked to catch the breezes with a bottle of water to cool me off and a bottle of vodka to sustain my spirits. I heard the other Sisters turning in bed through their open windows, and grimaced. At least out here there was some comfort.

There was also a show. My perch had an excellent view of the Elephant's apartment, and he was using this evening to amuse himself with Aunt Mavis. They always left the light on when they made love, so I had a show that few people could imagine. Actually, few people would want to imagine this show: Monseigneur Carlo Maria Farinelli, il Elephante, was a robust man in his late seventies and Mavis Hazleton was a short, heavyset yet energetic lady in her late sixties. The Elephant was a tall, enormous man with graying hair, and his gigantic cock, also called the Elephant by him, was trusting in and out of his housekeeper from behind. From the marks on their backsides I could tell they'd been practicing some mortification of the flesh as a prelude to their intercourse. Aunt Mavis was usually insatiable: she was bent over the end of the bed with her hands tied to the bedposts, her breasts bound and her nipples sporting clothespins, and her partner dribbled candle wax on her lower back and buttocks as he pistoned in and out of her. Her face was twisted in a grimace, but I could tell she was enjoying herself immensely, a fact made clear when she looked my direction and gave a huge wink. For an instant I minded the she knew I was there, but ultimately she didn't care whether I watched or not, so I decided I wouldn't either.

The Elephant was lost in his sensations, and I caught a glance of a complicated device on his genitals when he fell out of her: he had tied up his cock and balls. Some men will do anything to keep going in their golden years. Aunt Mavis turned her head and asked in broken Italian: "Are you all right, deary?"

"Yes, Carissima. Just a little accident, and I need to catch my breath. Give me a moment."

"Do you want me to suck him a little?"

"No thank you, not now. I'm almost ready, yes." He lined his salami for entry and was penetrating her once again. Her face screwed up for a moment before relaxing into its previous mood of bliss. A thin film of sweat covered my body, and when a breeze stirred the branches, my nipples hardened at the coolness. Idly, I reached down and fingered my lower lips, shifting my weight as the electricity flowed through my body. I'd watched their show three nights running, and although it wasn't the most stimulating thing I've ever seen, it wasn't boring yet. "Yes Helen," I told myself quietly, "you're really into decadence and kink now."

I had an itch, and I put my middle finger inside myself to scratch it. The vodka was making me light headed and I liked it. A horn down the street frightened me for a moment; I looked around thinking our gardener Rocco had sneaked back and was peeping at me the same way I was peeping at Mavis and the Elephant, but taking a quick look around me and being quiet a little bit calmed my fear. It was more than a little thrilling to be so close to the sounds of the city and yet be naked in the open, out of sight. I drank a big slug of the vodka and put my ring finger inside myself too, just the right amount of fullness. My eyes closed and the wind ruffled my hair: life was good.

The Elephant had untied Mavis, flipped her over and had her on her back. He was dripping candle wax on her stomach and tits as he fucked her; her eyes were closed and she babbled in rapture: "Carlo, Carlo, Carlo, what did I ever do before you? Fuck me harder, luv, roger me hard. God made that cock for me, only me. Here I go again!" Her massive body quivered and her head went back as the orgasm took her, and he held himself inside her, making the sign of the Cross multiple times as he emptied himself.

At last, after she came down, she sat up as he exited her and untied his genitals, taking the Elephant's trunk in her hands and rubbing it in the afterglow. He put his hands on either side of her head and massaged her ears as she cleaned him up with her tongue. When she was done, he untied her boobs and gently plucked every bit of wax from her body, front and back, and they laid back in bed together, dimming the light.

An orgasm wasn't far away for me, either, but I wanted to coast in my current state of pleasure for a while longer. I took another slug of vodka and one of water without taking my hand out of my cunt and closed my eyes as the breezes played over my sweaty skin, making me shiver with delight. My spare hand tickled my rock hard nipples, giving them a gentle, gentle squeeze, going back and forth. The cars went by on the street outside unseen; my Sisters tossed and turned on their trundle beds trying to sleep; a plane glided overhead as it approached DaVinci for a midnight landing. The Vicar Alfred came to my mind, and I used his image to help me finish myself, imagining his strong hands playing my freckled skin like a virtuoso until I met the cloudburst at the summit of my dreams. Never thought it would end, my orgasm lasted so long. 

It was still too soon to go back in, so I sat and thought. Sister Julianna was worrying me: we still went dancing from time to time and while there was no repeat of the adventures at the sex club or the hen party in England, before she left she confided she was considering giving Rocco something to remember. I told her if she was going to do that sort of thing, she needed to go out on her own and find a new boy; playing with Rocco was only going to cause trouble for everyone here. Sister Lucia acted as if she hadn't been part of some of our recent adventures but would give me knowing looks from time to time that ticked me off. Cardinal Terranova was hinting we should get together sometime off the clock and I was debating whether to quit auditing his books once and for all or give him a bondage and discipline session that would give him a heart attack. But the person I was most worried about was La Rossa, my mother in more ways than one. The stresses of the past year had taken a huge toll on her, and occasional hints left me to believe she was rethinking her plans after her term ended later this year. I was fine going someplace other than Kansas, but indecision was not easy for her either, and I could tell the uncertainty was getting to her. There was no question of her running for another term: the community was happy with her tenure, but she'd made it clear she'd had enough, and Sister Lucia was content with being the Crown Princess.

It was 0200 before I went to bed, sleeping naked without sheets, and my head only throbbed a little at Morning Prayer the next day. I crunched my numbers like a good girl, took a long siesta after lunch, and spent the afternoon reviewing some of the Cardinal's accounts for him. Dinner and Evening Prayer were uneventful, and when it was dark I was sitting naked in my tree watching Mavis and the Elephant once again. This time I left the vodka in the liquor cabinet. 

The Elephant must have been a little tired from the previous evening, because he was lying on his back in bed, like a huge white whale beached on a four poster bed with silk sheets. Aunt Mavis was working on him; I was always amazed at how much of his manhood would fit in her mouth. It reminded me of once I paid the price with him for a special favor he was able to arrange at the Vatican. Other than a slight tingle, the taste of sperm did nothing for me, don't like or dislike it. Unlike Juli or Lucia, I've never known someone I wanted to take all the way with my mouth, and it's something I absolutely would not do for any bozo.

Aunt Mavis' capacity amazed me again when she sat on the Elephant. No mortal woman should be able to take a penis of that size to the hilt, and it made me wonder what size her ex-husband must have been like. I met Henry Hazleton once when I was a teenager, and it was a hazy memory. Many of the nuns at the Generalate were visibly relieved when Mavis arrived in Rome, diverting the Elephant's goatish attempts to seduce them. I remember them crossing themselves and asking the Blessed Mother for protection every time the Elephant's member came up in discussion. Never had a problem fending him off myself: I was too smart to get caught, and could defend myself the time I was cornered.

The sounds of the city distracted me again, and I shivered as a cool breeze played on my skin. Watching the energy Mavis rode the Elephant, I became impressed with the craftsmanship of the four poster bed. That piece of furniture must be the sturdiest bed in Christendom. They shouted and moaned as they rocked the bed, flesh wobbling everywhere before she collapsed on top of him, shaking in her orgasm as his red face exulted in another successful deposit of semen. "It's fortunate they didn't meet when they were teenagers," I said to myself. "They would've had twenty children, at least." 

After another short night's sweltering snooze, I signed out a car from the motorpool after breakfast to pick up La Rossa at DaVinci. She'd been unusually quiet during this trip: usually she was in contact with me several times a day, and made sure we knew she was on the way home; this time, she only told us of her arrival at the Jerusalem conference, and didn't send out anything as she was preparing to depart. My mother isn't the best administrator in the world, but she's usually very thorough and this wasn't like her. I had copied the flight information before she left, and got to the airport in plenty of time to meet her. The terminal was its usual chaos: people walking at high speed, foreigners lost their first time on arrival, children sulking at being tethered to their parents, and the omnipresent inaudible squawk of the announcer only added to the confusion. Her flight was posted on the arrival board and since I knew the place well, I got to her exit point well before she was due.

The plane got in, the people disembarked, and she wasn't there. She was traveling in habit, so there was no chance of her getting lost in the crowd. Just to be certain, I followed the passengers to the baggage carousel and watched as they recovered their luggage. The cell phone showed no messages. I called her cell and got a recording. 

We usually tried to find the best price for our flights without traveling Alitalia, and this time she'd flown the Greek airline. I made my way to the customer service desk, and met a swarthy, muscular young man with slicked back black hair and Mediterranean features. "May I help you, Miss?" he oozed unctuously when I approached the counter.

"Yes, sir. I'm looking for a passenger on Flight 8987 from Athens. Barbara Parkhurst-Frazelton."

"And why would you be looking for her?"

"She was supposed to be on that plane and wasn't."

"Let me check." He made a show of tapping out knowledgeable patterns on his computer keyboard, throwing an occasional leer from time to time. I focused on my patience and fought to give him as blank an expression as I could. "No, my dear lady, she was not on that flight."

"But she had a reservation. I made it myself."

"That is indeed possible, my angel, but it was probably cancelled before the plane took off."

"Cancelled?"

"Cancelled."

"Is there any way you could tell me who or when?"

He gave me a dramatic sigh, and held his hands out full extension, palms up. "I can't give you that information. It's private."

"But we belong to the same religious order!"

"Oh, you are a nun? My goodness, you are far, far too beautiful to be a nun. Surely you're just waiting for some gallant young man to deliver you from such a lonely lifestyle. . ."

"No, I do not need rescuing from anything, thank you. I need to find Barbara."

"There is nothing I can do for you, unless. . ."

"Unless, what?"

"Well, we could discuss this in the back privately."

"I think not."

"There is absolutely I nothing I can do for you then." He turned away from me, looking behind me for another customer. At the moment, there was no one, but he didn't let it stop him. "I have some. . . paperwork to complete, and you are taking up my valuable time. Bon Giorno."

It took a minute before I settled down enough to stalk away and recover my vehicle. There was still nothing on my cell phone, and I saw no reason to call the Generalate with this news; Sister Lucia arrived from the country just before I left and would still be catching up with her work. A few bobs and weaves followed by some back street maneuvers and I was at headquarters. After putting the car back, I sought Sister Lucia out and found her in the garden talking with Rocco. He saw me coming up the path with a full head of steam and made his exit quickly. Lucia was standing under my observation tree when I caught up with her. "She's missing," I said, a little perturbed.

"Missing?" 

"La Rossa is missing. She wasn't on her plane from Athens, the reservation was cancelled before it took off. They wouldn't tell me if she made the flight from Tel Aviv to Athens, the greasy bastards. She hasn't returned my calls. I don't know what's going on."

The older nun gave me an arched eyebrow. "This isn't like her. If she were running away, she would tell someone, you if no one else, or more likely me. I'll make some calls, see what I can find out."

It was good to be around a cool head. "What do I do in the meantime?" I asked.

"Let me know if you hear from her. I'll make some calls, do a little research. Perhaps she's run off with that greengrocer, Freddo Salvatore. He's a scamp, and so's his son." Her eyes drifted out of focus for a moment, then came back. "What were we talking about?" she asked in a tiny voice, and shuddered before going on: "Right, LaRossa's missing and we need to find her. I'll make some calls, do a little research. In the meantime, do your work and say your prayers, I'll let you know if I find out anything. Oh by the way, Cardinal Terranova left a message asking you to come over right after the Siesta. He's sending a car over for you. Seems there's a crisis there you need to help him with."

I nodded, and she looked at me strangely. "What?" I said, spreading my hands.

"You seem to see a lot of the Cardinal."

"I only saw him when he was here. Any other work I've done for him was while he was out of town, and his staff were out of the office. This can be documented."

She nodded with a smirk on her face. "Of course I believe you, Sister Mary Francis. You are an exemplary member of our community."

I turned and walked away before I said something I'd regret. She was up to something, and I had little or no idea what it would be. And the little shot about Freddo Salvatore made no sense at all; LaRossa never saw him on a regular basis. Sister Juli and I saw him regularly when we went to the market and he never came to the Generalate. I sighed. Too many little dramas going on.

Sister Julianna got in just before lunch, and afterward regaled me with stories about her family back home. La Rossa's disappearance bothered her as well, but she had no insight for me. Our leader was usually rather reluctant to say what was in her heart to anyone: I guess I'm the one in Rome she confides in the most. Blood is thicker than water.

I wasn't in the mood to sunbathe with Juli that day. My nerves were worn enough that I slept rather deeply, and they had to wake me to keep my appointment with Cardinal Terranova. The Roman traffic was sparse since most folks who could get out of town were still out of town. His palazzo was close to the Vatican, on the far side of the Tiber from our Generalate. I was ushered through a side door through the kitchen to the Cardinal's office; his assistant Mario Orsini greeted me as usual: "Hello, Sister Franny. So good to see you again."

"You too, Father Mario. You look like you've had some sun."

"Oh yes, I just got back from Jerusalem. Went to a conference on religious."

"You went to the Conference? I would have thought the Cardinal would have gone himself; it's his kind of event."

"I think that's one thing he wants to talk to you about. Did your Mother Superior have a good time there?"

I blinked. "You'd know better than I. Haven't heard much from her. Did you see much of her there?"

"A little bit, especially when I roamed around the Old City."

"Oh? Did you notice anything unusual?"

"She was with a priest. Looked Orthodox, although he could have been Eastern Rite. Big hairy fellow in one of those monstrous cassocks, don't know how they manage in the heat wearing those awful things. Saw them in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher early one morning before the crowds got there."

"You were there in the morning?"

"Yeah, it's magic when you're there that early. Nobody's around, you can feel the magic of the place. Like you're there with Mary Magdalene at the Empty Tomb. I saw them across the way, they looked rather taken with one another."

"Do you know who he was?"

The young prelate shook his head. "Just know he's not from our part of the Mediterranean. The Cardinal wants you to go right in. Nice talking to you."

"Likewise." My head started spinning a little, La Rossa wasn't usually impulsive, but from her stories of her youth I imagined she could have worried Grandmother regularly. I was certainly the result of an impulse when she fell for an Irish Holy Ghost missionary home on leave. My brain was working so fervently, I almost walked into the door without opening it, making Father Mario snicker into his paperwork at his desk. 

Cardinal Enrico Terranova was a short, thin man, with an ageless, drawn face the seemed incapable of humor, and his red zucchetto sat on a full head of dark hair slightly touched by grey. I stood before him with my best posture, not at Attention, but taking care not to slump. It was clear something was wrong with him: his face was darker, more lined than I've known before, and his eyes were distant rather than the white lasers they usually were. "Ah, Sister Mary Francis Xavier of the Missionary Community of St. George. You are the picture of saintly health and beauty. It's been too long since I've seen you in person, not since. . .I beg your pardon, I shall check my tongue at this point in time."

I nodded and smiled. "Good evening, Your Eminence. I trust you are well."

He sighed and looked away for a moment. "I wish your trust was well founded. 'Vanity of Vanities, all things are vanity. . .' Most of the men of my family lived robust lives well into their 90s; I had a vain hope their genes would serve me as well as I served the Church in my position of responsibility to their age. Alas, it is not to be so."

I screwed up my eyebrow. "What are you saying, Eminence?"

"Please, in this last few days we have together I would like for you to call me Enrico. The past few weeks I have had some lapses in memory and attention, as well as unusual headaches. I just returned from the Gemelli hospital this morning: I have an inoperable brain tumor that is cancerous. They wanted to do more tests and develop an aggressive treatment plan for me, however I am 75 and have had a long, full life. The Holy Father said he would accept my resignation and I am going home to Venezia for my last days. If I am fortunate, I shall be able to spend one more Christmas with my family, and if I make to Easter I will know there are really miracles in this world."




St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 06



Taking a deep breath, I composed myself. "I am sorry to hear that, Emi. . .Enrico."

His eyes fluttered and a rare, small smile creased his face. "Your work here the past few months has been a Godsend. I will be able to hand over these duties to my successor with a far lighter heart than I would have before we met. For this, I want to reward you. There are three positions I am aware of right now that I believe you would find challenging and fulfilling. One of them would be here in Rome, with the Commission on Refugees. Another would be back in your native England, working with the Ecumenical Commission on Poverty and Justice, residence in London. The third would be the most challenging: a new Pontifical Institute on Ministry with the Deaf. You would be the Associate Director, reporting to Monsignor Barry Whiteside, with residence in Baltimore, Maryland. This position would be taking charge of the regular function of the Institute, since Monsignor Whiteside is also a Judicial Vicar of the Archdiocese and would have little day to day involvement. Any of these jobs will be yours with a word from me, and I will be happy to put you in any of them."

I was thunderstruck. I knew he liked and respected me, but not that much. "Wow! I'm speechless."

He winked and smiled broader. "You should be, my dear. You have a few days to make up your mind. I will be here three more weeks to wrap up my affairs, if you will pardon the phrase, and can make whatever arrangements you wish. Unless you want to remain at your Generalate doing the house accounts. . ."

"I'll have to speak with my superiors about this."

"Of course."

"Let me think about it and I'll be back to you in a week."

"I knew you would make up your mind quickly, in fact, I think I know which job you will take. There is a scrap of paper in my desk with the choice you will make, Helen. But I will keep this to myself, for my own amusement."

"Thank you, Enrico."

"You are most welcome, dearest Helen." I must have flinched at the mention of my birth name, because his smug look became more smug. "Perhaps when you return you can do a small service for me?"

"I'll think about it. In the meantime, I have a favor to ask?"

"Yes?"

"La Rossa disappeared on her way back from the conference in Jerusalem. If you here anything about her whereabouts, would you contact me?"

"This is not public knowledge, correct?"

"Correct."

"Good. I will see what I can find out; check your cell phone regularly. Now if you will excuse me, I need to lie down before supper."

"Certainly, Your Eminence." He frowned, and I caught myself. "Thank you, Enrico."

His smile ushered me out the door, and Father Mario looked disappointed at the brevity of my stay. We parted company, and I made my way back to the Generalate, getting there just in time for dinner.

Sister Julianna wasn't interested in going dancing after Evening Prayer, which pissed me off since I was looking forward to getting out of the compound for recreation. After making my way back to my cell, I waited longer than usual for the sounds of the Sisters to tell me they were in bed before disrobing and heading to my tree fork. It was yet another humid Roman night, and the whole dormitory felt like it was over the laundry.

Mavis and the Elephant were in rare form again, sitting facing one another and moving crabwise toward one another. After Carlo inserted himself, he got out an apparatus and clamped their nipples to each other's. Soon they were moving their hips in and out, their genitals hidden, and their faces beaming with sweat. A sound drew my attention to the Nun's dormitory and a light in an upper apartment shone with a wan gleam. My view of this apartment was excellent as well, and fortunately the inhabitants were ignorant of my presence. 

When I saw who was there, I came down out of my tree to get my camera. Sister Lucia was making Rocco Salvatore welcome with roaming hands and little kisses to his face and neck. Sister Julianna was also there, disrobing at high speed, her face eager for fun. I brought my bottle of Vodka inside with me and put it away: this needed sobriety to digest and record. When I got back, there were two sets of buttocks on the bed, raised up. Loud music came from the apartment, and Rocco was playing their asses like a set of bongo drums, dancing naked as he slapped them with his cock and balls bouncing around madly. He was no Elephant, but his endowment was more than most women could handle.

Tiring of this game, the women got off the bed and began to kiss up and down his body. All three of them were glowing with sweat, their curves glistening. Kneeling in front of him, Lucia took his monster in her mouth, sucking and licking until she was able to deep throat him to the hilt. Juli licked and kissed his balls from the side for a while before moving behind him to kiss and lick his asshole. I cringed at the sight of it: definitely not my cup of tea, but it didn't interrupt my video recording of the session. A glance over my shoulder told me the older folks were finishing their tryst and getting ready to go to sleep. The action in the Czech nun's apartment was switching again.

Rocco laid Lucia on her back, pulling her knees up to his shoulders, and preparing her for entry. Meanwhile, Juli was lubricating his rectum with some oil, the purpose of which I was at a loss. She moved out of frame as Rocco lined up and thrust into the older Sister, making her wince and smile as he filled her. Then Juli returned wearing a huge strap on dildo around her pelvis. She penetrated his asshole with a finger at first, then two and three; suddenly she thrust the artificial penis all the way into his bottom, making him cry out with surprise and pain. I'm surprised he didn't wake up the entire neighborhood; Mavis and the Elephant were startled in the midst of the night end routine.

I watched as Rocco fucked and was fucked. Lucia was cooperating enthusiastically, pinching her own nipples and rubbing her clitoris as she savored her meaty invader; Rocco was confused but relishing the sensations before and aft; Juli was beaming demonically as she savaged his backside. Soon, he let out a loud, animal cry and clearly released his seed into the older woman's vagina. The younger woman slowed down and pulled out, leaving a greasy spot on his buttocks. When he stood up, I shut down the recorder and left my tree for the night.

It was still too early and too hot to sleep, but my anger kept me awake as I sweated like a pig. La Rossa was fairly open minded about what we did, both at St. George's Convent in England and the Generalate at Rome. She knew we were human, but she didn't permit sex in the dormitory, and she didn't permit seducing the help. As long as we were careful and discreet, there were no questions asked. This was different.

The choice of jobs was overwhelming, but there was only one I could take. My discipline told me I needed to pray about this for as long as I could and make sure, but the contemplation that night calmed me down and every time I turned my choice over in my mind, I was more sure.

I got up on a whim, opened my laptop and downloaded the video. Suddenly paranoid, I sent the clip to myself for safe keeping from my personal e-mail account to an address I used to purchase items on eBay. My password was pretty secure, but I didn't want to take chances. After I shut everything down, I laid down naked on my sheets and prayed as I sweated. "Help us find, LaRossa," I asked the King of the Universe, making up a new litany on the spot that my mother would come back and make things right. An hour after I fell asleep, my phone buzzed with a message from the Cardinal. After reading it, I made an airline reservation for Greece, and finally dropped into a deep sleep.



St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 07



I awakened before dawn after a deep sleep, feeling refreshed for the first time in weeks. A quality sleep if not a large quantity rest. The sheets were damp, and I threw them into the laundry pile immediately. It was earlier than my usual wake up time, so went over to my window to sit and listen to the sounds of predawn. A rare passing car, a hint of breeze, the twinkle of a few stars that peeked through the Roman city lights, a distant rumble of a plane approaching DaVinci. I wished my mother was on the plane coming in: she was the rock of my life since I became a nun, and I missed her now more than ever. 

I was going to see her soon; I'd booked a flight to Greece before I went to sleep a few hours before, but it didn't leave until the next day. There were things to be done. I compiled my overnight bag while I had the energy, and fished out my passport. Took a look at my diary, and found I didn't have any solid commitments for the day. Maybe I should try to see Cardinal Enrico Terranova in the early afternoon while everyone was sleeping. He was really in pitiful shape, and maybe I could give him something special. I found myself tingling at the thought: the last time I had whipped his back to mortify his flesh after he peeked on Juli and I sunbathing naked on the roof, then gave him a rough handjob. It would only be once, and the possibilities might be endless.

A rustling outside my window caught my attention. Rocco Salvatore was taking his leave in the dim light, and Sister Julianna was walking him to the gate. The light in Sister Lucia's room was out; Juli must be sneaking a little private time after their three way romp last night. They were close, like two infatuated teenagers walking down the sidewalk in the same shoes. Juli only wore a light white robe; Rocco wore a white t-shirt with an open neck, a gold chain, and dark trousers. His hands were playing in her open robe, teasing her breasts and crotch. She clung to him, smiling, and stroking his trousers. It seemed he wasn't worn out completely from the night before, because he spun her around in the gap between the bushes and my building, lifted up the back of her garment, opened his fly and began thrusting toward her crack. I could tell she reached between her legs to guide him in, and they were humping in the gathering light. 

My fingers wandered between my legs: it was hot to watch them making such passionate love. A voice in the back of my head was screaming: "Juli, you're an idiot! An Idiot! Don't you know you can get pregnant this way?" She took him eagerly, rolling her hips, and after a lot of frantic copulating, he pulled out to shoot a load on her bare butt. They kissed again, and realized it was too light outside; he ran off, awkwardly trying to replace his penis while she darted back into the dormitory. It wasn't quite my usual shower time, and I resisted the urge to go early to see if I could catch Sister Juli washing sperm off her ass.

Looking back across the way, I saw Mavis and the Elephant standing at their window watching the kids with huge smiles on their faces. Mavis' hand was behind her and his hand was buried in the top of her nightgown. "Some people never grow up," I muttered to myself, and hummed the melody of "Hello, Young Lovers," as I gathered myself for the day.

Morning Prayer and breakfast went as usual, and I had to figure out how to get away to look for LaRossa. The little drama revolving around Sister Lucia was one I wanted to stay out of, and didn't want her to know any more than she had to about Cardinal Terranova's tip. She was in her office when I knocked and let me in without delay: "Good morning, Sister Mary Francis Xavier. Did you sleep well?"

"As well as anyone could in this heat. I need to ask for an emergency leave."

"Oh? Where?"

"My mother's not well."

She thought a long moment. "Patty's been in bad health for a while. What is going on with her?"

"She's been in Greece to recover from her latest episode, but she's had a setback and can't make decisions for herself."

"An accident? A coma? Did she run off with a young man?"

"No, no and definitely not. She's had bouts with depression; won't respond to much of any stimulus. It's tough to snap her out of it, but I've had some luck with her at times like this, so they asked me to come."

She steepled her hands in front of her face, swinging back and forth in her office chair. A slight sag in her eyelids and a dullness in her eye told me of her romp last night, otherwise she was fresh and tidy as usual. "I guess there's no harm in letting you go. Are you caught up around here?"

"Yes, Sister. Hopefully it won't be gone long. I need to work on some books at the Cardinal's during siesta time this afternoon, but that will finish up my project with him. If I can get a ticket tomorrow, I'll be on my way."

"Of course, Sister. Permission granted."

I started to leave, then turned around: "Excuse me, sister, have you heard anything about LaRossa's whereabouts?"

"No, nothing yet. Have you heard anything?"

"She hasn't called me." I grasped my hands behind my back hard even though I wasn't really lying to the woman. She thought my Aunt Patty was my mother, and Patty had an episode like I'd described. . . two years ago while Sister Lucia was on a trip. "It's tough to know what to think."

Sister Lucia nodded sympathetically. "Make your reservation and pack your bag right now. I'll send Sister Julianna out after the produce while you're gone. Just focus on your dear mother and don't worry about anything here. Keep me posted."

"Yes, Sister. Will do."

I turned and left quickly. Getting back to my rooms, I looked up material on my destination: the island of Kos. I'd never been to the Greek Islands before, and hoped I would have a chance to explore the island after I found LaRossa. It was the birthplace of Hippocrates, the father of medicine. I felt I needed some medicine, but it was too early to start drinking. 

I took public transportation to the Cardinal's residence this day; the bus wasn't too crowded. The day was another Italian roaster, and getting out of town sounded like a great idea. At least the Cardinal's rooms were cool, although I might be asked to make myself comfortable. 

Father Mario wasn't at his desk and I entered the Cardinal's office silently without knocking. He was dozing on a leather couch, wearing a silk bathrobe, his mouth open as he snored as softly and gently as a breeze sighing through a rafter. I looked at him, small and powerless and fragile, and something lurched inside me. The office had the same richness and opulence as my grandmother's mansion in England, but just as I'd always seen more with her than an ordinary spoiled rich person, I saw more in this man who was surrounded by a power and affluence that didn't matter any more.

A soft touch on his shoulder made him stir, and a squeeze awakened him. His eyelids flutter open and a small smile creased his face. "Helen, dearest Helen. So good of you to come. Have you decided about my offer?"

"Yes, Enrico. I've made up my mind."

He smiled broadly. "Take a look in my desk drawer. There's a scrap of paper with a date on it. Read it and see if I'm right." I went to his unlocked desk and in the front right corner was a small piece of paper folded into a neat square. He was absolutely right with his guess, and the date on the paper was today's date. This was scary and I shuddered. "I knew I would be right. You're welcome, Helen. Now. . ."

"Yes, I will show you my appreciation. The last time we met, I chastised you, but this time will be different." Without a word, I took off my wimple and habit, laying them carefully on the desk before removing my bra and panties. 

His eyes grew huge, and he trembled as I moved close to him, taking his hand. "You are a heavenly vision; I would say an angel has come to visit me. A Renaissance Angel, with red hair and freckles. My cousin was like you; when I was a child I watched her bathing, and she has danced in my dreams for a lifetime. May I. . .?"

His eyes were flickering between mine and my left nipple, so I put my finger on his lips and came close enough for him to touch my breasts. His touch was feeble as he milked my nipples, squeezed my teardrop melons, stroked my side. I moved closer and he took my nipple in his mouth: there was nothing but gums and tongue as he made love to my breast, and a tingling ran up and down my spine as he did so. Moving his robe open, I saw his cock once again, the same member I'd teased and abused when I saw it last. He was partially erect, and I gave him a few gentle slaps without force to get him more interested. Finishing with one side, I moved for him to take the other breast into his mouth, sucking it deep in his toothless embrace. Moving my hand up and down his cock, I teased the ridges, smeared leaking liquid around it, juggled his little balls. He moaned and I stroked him faster.

It was nice for a while, but he started to get a little too warm and it was time to finish him off. Moving away and kneeling, I did something I'd only done once for the Elephant to pay off a debt: I took the end of his cock in my mouth and started sucking. He gasped in surprise, and his whole body shook with delight. I took it easy at first, but started licking faster and harder, stroking him with a circular motion I saw Sister Juli using on Rocco, and before long I reached the point of no return. "Hell," I said to myself, "it's only this one time," and I opened my throat to receive his seed that jetted out stronger than I expected. 

He touched my cheek when I'd finished, smiling and not saying a word, cupping my cheek. "Helen, Helen, Helen," he whispered. "You don't know. . ."

I touched his lips to silence him: ". . .and you probably never will. Savor this mystery as well as the others as you prepare for the last journey." He nodded and went back to sleep, as I dressed myself and left.

Shooting off some e-mails and making a couple of calls, I got a lay of the land I was going to. The program I was joining was just getting organized, and I didn't need to be there for months. There would be time for me to make my arrangements here, to see things heading the right direction, and to prepare for the move. It helped me figure out what I was going to say to LaRossa when I saw her.

The evening meal was quiet and after Evening Prayer, I snuck out again to watch the action. Mavis and the Elephant took a rare night off, and there was no action from the nun's dormitory, either, so I can in my tree and let my mind drift without purpose. There were breezes that made my skin tingle, and time lost all reference until it was cool enough to sleep.

Getting up early the next morning, I dressed simply in civilian clothes for my trip. I wore a tank top, jean shorts, a blue handkerchief on my head, and sneakers to travel on the plane. A backpack held my change of clothes and whatever else I needed; being a nun meant one could travel light. While waiting for my flight, several people asked me where I went to University, and I told them I was past that. The flights were uneventful, and I was able to nap in the blessed coolness of the planes.

Kos was more beautiful than I could've imagined. The island reminded me of a sleek green dolphin as we approached, and I was struck by the lovely scenery and inviting beaches as we came in to land. The airport wasn't very large, and I found ground transport without much problem. My information had the name of a church and its pastor, who was my chance to find LaRossa. Seeing the loveliness here, talking her back into Rome was going to be tough.

I rapped on an ancient door to the Rectory and a huge man in an Eastern priest's cassock answered it. He was hairy with a long beard: a man larger than most men, yet with gentle hands and kind blue eyes. His hair was mostly dark, tinged with grey around the edges, and he was surprised to see me. "My heavens, you could be sisters!" he exclaimed when he first saw me.

"Father," I responded, "I'm looking for someone very dear to me, and I heard you could help me."

"Yes? Who would that be?"

"Barbara Parkhurst-Frazelton."

He rolled his eyes and pretended to think for a moment. It was clear he knew something; he was not practiced at deception. He tapped a hairy, sandaled foot and he sucked his upper lip under his lower lip. "I may have heard that name," he said at last. "Why do you think I would know where she is?"

"Father, I beg your pardon, I don't know your name."

"Father Michael Demetrios, pastor of St. George's Church here on Kos. And you are?"

"Helen Parkhurst-Frazelton." 

This took him more aback and made him nervous. I'd thrown him for a loop. "It's no use trying to deceive you, since she hasn't told me enough to prepare for this. Barbara said someone from her community would come someday looking for her, but she didn't say anything about a. . . relative. What is your relationship with her?"

His eyes were the saintliest eyes I'd ever gazed into in my life. For all my life, I'd been keeping a great secret, and never had revealed it to a total stranger before, but this kindly looking man in an isolated spot invited my confidence. "Barbara is my mother."

He shook his head and looked away for a moment. Looking back, I could tell he was in a quandary. "A puzzlement: I didn't think Barbara had a daughter."

"Ask her. Tell her I'm here and would like to talk with her."

He thought for a long moment, making an important decision. Finally, he said: "As you wish, Helena," He turned, leaving the door open and went to the back of the house. I swung my backpack to the floor and waited. The house was a simply place, with icons on the wall and a huge bookshelf dominated it. Its wooden furnishing looked well worn; they probably stayed with the house over the different terms of the pastors. Shortly, Father Michael returned: "She will meet you on the back porch. If you'll come through, you'll see it on your right."

He ushered me in and it was a few steps before I was on an elevated deck with a lovely view of the sea. LaRossa sat on a deck chair under a striped umbrella wearing a straw hat and a white, one piece bathing suit, her feet in sandals. "You found me, Squirt. Didn't think you'd be here this soon. I expected Lucia or one of the others to come by first, and then you would come out to make the last pitch."

"Things are crazy back in Rome."

"What else is new?" she said tartly. Her face relaxed: "It's this a perfect place?" She spread her arm to show me the view: mountains, ancient building, orchards, blue skies, and a perfectly sapphire sea. "Much better than Kansas."

"Sure, Mother. I'd pick this place over Kansas, and I've never seen Kansas."

"Have a seat, Squirt. Can I get you something?"

"No thanks." I took a chaise next to her and sat admiring the scenery. 

"Michael will whip us up a wonderful lunch; he's a fantastic cook. God sent him to me in Jerusalem, I'm sure of that. All you have to do is look in his eyes. I never thought there would be love at first sight, but I was wrong. He's a saint: so attentive and spiritual and wise. And an animal in the bedroom!" She touched my arm as I winced. "Sorry, Squirt, I know you didn't want to hear about that. For some strange reason, he adores me, too, and I just had to get off the plane in Athens. In six months, my term will be over anyway, so it's no big loss. I haven't sent in my resignation yet, the days have just drifted by and I haven't had any energy for that. But I know where to spend the rest of my days, Squirt. Here. You can came here too, if you want."

Father Michael came out with a cold glass of lemonade. "I'm sure after you're journey you'll need refreshment, Helen. I found some wonderful fresh calamari at the market this morning, so I hope you'll be with us for lunch."

"Thank you, Father."

He put his hand gently on my shoulder and shook his head. "No, no, no, Helen. As Barbara's daughter and a guest in my house, you may call me Michael. If there is anything I can do for you, you need only ask."

"Thanks, Michael."

He retreated inside, and LaRossa smiled after him. "A wonderful, cuddly bear of a man, isn't he? His people love him."

"How come he's here alone? Aren't Eastern Rite priests permitted to marry?

"He lost his wife to cancer five years ago. A long illness. They aren't permitted to remarry if their wives die. Poor man's been alone ever since; hasn't looked at another woman." The breeze came across the deck, and we savored it. "You'll want to tell me it's my duty to come back, isn't it? Lucia sent you."

"No. Lucia's worrying me: she's had several episodes where simple facts escape her and she forgets things too quickly. I know her well enough to know something's wrong. An occasional visitor wouldn't notice, but those who're around her every day would."

"Oh, that's a problem. Is she causing trouble?"

"Not yet, but she's doing things she didn't do before. A couple of nights ago she was having sex with Rocco and Juli in her apartment."

She sat up straight, surprised. "What? How?" Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know this, Squirt?"

I cleared my throat and took a sip of my lemonade, which took my breath away, it was so good. "I was sitting outside in a tree, watching."

"Watching? Turning into a voyeur, Squirt?"

"Yes, no, maybe. . .it's so beastly hot in Rome this time of year and there's no sleeping. Juli's been away with her family in the mountains for weeks, and there's nothing to do. I've been in the tree the past almost every night for about a month or so." 

"Watching Mavis and the Elephant," she said with a sardonic smile.

I shook my head. "Yes. Out of boredom."

She narrowed her eyes again. "I think a little more than that, but we'll leave it alone. Yes, Lucia is out of bounds: sex in the dormitories is out of bounds, even if it's her and she knows that. The only times we bent that rule were for the Elephant and for Cardinal Terranova. By the way, how's he doing?"

"Not good. Retiring, terminal brain cancer."

She sighed. "I will pray for him, since God wants to pray for our enemies. Don't get excited, I know you've only been doing his books for him, in spite of what the gossips around the Generalate say." She sighed again, and looked out at the sea. "Oh Squirt, you don't know what you're asking me. Do I always have to be the one who sets things right?" I sat without saying anything; she would be more convinced if she worked it out on her own as much as possible. "Sister Laura Anastasia could come back from America, right?"

"Yes. She could be here in days. Of course, she's Second Councillor and not very assertive. If she came in when things are calm, it would be perfect, but she gets overwhelmed in new situations when she hasn't got her feet on the ground. Could she talk Sister Lucia into getting a check up right after getting off the plane?"

It took a while for the question to sink in; I knew LaRossa hated the thoughts going through her head. After a long silence, she spoke again: "You're growing up, Squirt. I've never known you to be so patient. I thought you'd be pleading with me and using every argument you could to badger me." I shrugged my shoulders and spread my palms. She touched my cheek: "I'm glad you're mine, Squirt. I'm proud of you. Haven't said it enough, I know, but I can now. Maybe I should let you take charge."

I shook my head, and answered in a low voice: "You know that's not possible."

She shook her head. "No, I guess it isn't." Taking a glass of water, she sipped from it slowly and thought some more. "I remember the plans I had, to go to Kansas after this term and be near Vicar Alfred. Yes, I was disappointed he married Agnes, but I never let him know I'd consider that with him. Marriage. Then Agnes got hit by the bus, and maybe I could arrange it to be close to him and we could go back to the way things were in England. Without the others cluttering things up. But he's changed so much, I wouldn't know him now. We've written a few times, and I can tell. He's got his own life to lead, and I have mine." She looked over her shoulder into the house seeking him, then looked back at the coast again. "Michael is everything Alfred isn't, and he needs me. The magic time in Jerusalem: we prayed together, we talked, we walked through the Old City. It's like I've found the other half of my soul."




St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 07



We sat for a while longer before I said: "He'll be here for you, if he's the man you think he is. Six months isn't that long."

"Not at our age, that's for certain."

"Maybe one of the older sisters will come here as well."

"That would be possible. I was hoping you'd come here."

I took a deep breath: this was unexpected, her asking me twice. I was set to go to Kansas with her, but other sisters were going with us and there would be opportunities for work for all of us there. I didn't know what was possible on Kos, but although I loved it right away, I didn't think I wanted to stay. I still wanted to live a life of my own, do my own work. 

She looked at me closely and then gave a small chuckle. "I know you, Squirt. Don't worry, it was a long shot at best. You're still young enough to want to live your own life, whether it's in the community or not, and you want to choose your own path. I'd think the same thing in your shoes, at your age. So be it. Go follow your dreams wherever they lead you."

I waited a moment, and watched a seagull cross the sky. "Mother, we need to finish things in Rome right. If we leave everything a mess, anything good we've done will be automatically irrelevant. It won't take that long, and you'll be right back here. Having this to look forward to will make the time pass more easily."

We sat for a long time without speaking, until Michael came out to tell us lunch was ready. LaRossa was right: he was a splendid cook and his calamari salad was better than anything I'd ever eaten in my life. He told us about the island and its history, unfolded the nature of his little flock and his joy in serving them, and how grateful he was to meet LaRossa in Jerusalem. I told him my story, growing up in England being raised by my Aunt Patty and her butler Willikins, how I came to join my mother in the convent, and how my hearing was miraculously restored four years ago. My mother was pensive through the meal and let us talk, He showed me to a guest room for my siesta, and I gladly laid aside my cares to catch up on my rest.

My phone buzzed right after I lay down; Sister Julianna was calling. "Where are you, Franny?"

"Out of town, Juli, way out of town. Sister Lucia knows where I am."

"No she doesn't: she was asking where you were all morning."

"Be careful around Sister Lucia, she's been very forgetful lately. She gave me permission to go to Greece to take care of my sick mother; there's a memo acknowledging this in her inbox."

"Oh, I see. Sure, you wouldn't run away without leaving a note or something. I'll tell her."

"Thanks. I don't want to her turn in a missing persons report."

"Hey, there's a new dance club opening tonight nearby. Interested?"

"When I get back. I'll be here for a couple of days, at least. How's everybody else there?"

"Still no word about LaRossa. Mavis has been asking about you, and is trying to tell me about things I can do with Rocco."

"Mavis knows a lot. How is Rocco?"

"Okay, I guess. Rocco's a nice boy, with some nice qualities, but too possessive. Had to tell him I'm not the marrying type, committed to religious life, and he laughed at me."

"I wonder why."

She snort in surprise, then calmed down. "So he's been pestering me more than usual. I'll just have to get used to saying 'no' twenty time a day until he gets the hint."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Mavis told me Betsy's coming back for another visit next week."

"Oh my! Maybe we should point Rocco her direction."

"Yeah, that's a thought. I think Mavis would like that."

"I think Rocco would like that as well. Just have to get them off the property to. . .socialize."

"Huh?"

"You know having sex in the dormitory or on the grounds is prohibited."

There was a gasp and a pause on the other end. "No, yes, really? Oh, hey, did you. . .?"

"You know I wouldn't tell anybody if I did."

"Yeah. Right. Sure. I'm sorry, Franny. It's been crazy here lately."

"You can catch me up with your family when I get home. Just remind Sister Lucia about my memo, and keep an eye on her. She's been a bit strange lately."

"Yeah. Later." She run off and I was able to drift off to sleep.

They were talking in the study when I got up from my slumber. Michael was seated in a huge swivel chair at his desk while LaRossa lounged on a leather sofa. I sat beside her, but he spoke: "Helen, I have no problem letting Barbara return to Rome to complete her duties. She is as much as pastor as I am, and her flock needs her. I cannot deny her to them in their time of need for my own selfish desires. Your idea that she should return after her term with any sisters who want to accompany her is excellent: we will welcome them as a group and I will have my Barbara near me again. Six months is not a long time; I've been alone for so long, another solitude will be no burden. It will be an Advent, a time of joyful expectation. I send her back to you with my blessing."

I went across the room and gave him a huge hug. He returned it and I didn't want to let go. LaRossa cleared her throat and asked: "How soon should we go?" 

"Tomorrow, or maybe the next day. It'll be easier to make the arrangements the longer we can wait. In the meantime, get a hold of Sister Laura Athanasia and get her on a plane ASAP as well. I'll let Sister Lucia know I'm on the way back when we make our arrangements."

"Good thinking, Squirt."

Michael looked puzzled. "What does this 'Squirt' mean?" he asked innocently.

"I'll tell you later."

La Rossa and Michael showed me around Kos the next day, and we spent a wonderful afternoon on one of the less popular beaches. He promised me a boat tour of the area the next time I was in there. LaRossa looked pensive but stayed quiet about business after she had confirmation Sister Laura Athanaisa was on her way from Washington to Rome. We got back to Rome, got things straightened up and had Sister Lucia checked out at the Gemelli: she was suffering from early onset dementia, and embraced a treatment program immediately. I managed to get away from my labors long enough to try the new club with Sister Julianna, and Rocco's attention moved to Betsy when she returned to town, much to Sister Juli's relief.

One night after Evening Prayer, I was having a quiet drink with LaRossa and she gave me a funny look. "I know we've been busy, Squirt, but you need to tell me what your great plan is. Kos is too small a place for you, I know, but where are you planning to go?"

"Well, Cardinal Terranova offered me several positions before he left."

"I expected that. Typical Roman and typical bishop: fixing up their friends before they leave power. Where?"

"America. I'm going to Baltimore."

"The East Coast? Why there? What will you be doing?"

"I'm going to be the Associate Director at a new Pontifical Institute on Ministry with the Deaf."

"Wow! That sounds like you'll be in practical charge of a big organization. Don't tell me, some local monsignore is going to be the titular head, and you're doing all the heavy work." I smiled. "I'm impressed; Enrico has more clout than I even thought. I'd ask you if you thought you were ready for something like this, but I imagine you think you are. I think you are, too, for what it's worth. How soon do you have to be there?"

"Four months. I can work here until it's time to go."

"Which will be enough time to prepare the transition." She smiled at me and sipped her drink. "Well done, Helen. We'll come see you in America."

I smiled into my drink. "Can you make it the rest of the way now? Through your term?"

"Oh yes. I was just being impulsive, running away like that, thinking I could leave everything behind. Everything's going to work out well, Michael will be ready for me, and I'll be ready to make a smooth transition when I'm done here. Sister Juli wants to come to Kos, so I'll have some company there other than him. It'll be good. We are blessed, Helen."

"Yes, Mother. We are very blessed."