Section 5 - The Irish Connection
Chapter 1 - Holy Whore
The Irish Priest's study was a masterpiece of polished, elaborately carved
oak panelling. The shelves were filled with leather bound tomes of deep
eschatological significance. The massive mahogany desk gleamed darkly. Faintly,
the sound of a harpist practising the hauntingly beautiful melodies of Tourlough
O'Carolan filtered in from the Sanctuary.
The Supplicant knelt humbly before the Priest. Father Mulcahy fed her his
dick. After all, the poor woman was desperate and it was his Christian duty to
help her. She sucked his knob, then skilfully deep throated his entire seven
inches, a very experienced scumsucker indeed. He pumped, pulled out and unloaded
his holy oyster juice in her face.
At Father Mulcahy's urging, the scumsucker made no move to wipe her pretty
face. Squatting nude in high heels, she spread her legs wide to show him her
slit, simultaneously displaying her freshly dyed, neatly trimmed blond pubic
thatch. Clasping her hands together behind her head, she pulled her elbows back
to lift her tits. Thick, viscous strands of cum dripped down her face and
drooled onto her big bare breasts. She bounced them hopefully.
"Father! I'm in deep trouble."
Father Mulcahy eyed her delectable bare bod with a benevolent eye.
"What is your problem, my child?"
"I borrowed some money from Big Sean O'Toole. He wants it back plus
interest, but I've gambled it all away!"
Father Mulcahy nodded.
"Borrowing money from vicious loan sharks like Big Sean is seldom a good
idea, Deirdre! It is indeed a pretty pickle you've got yerself into! How much
money are we talking about?"
He whistled as Deirdre named an awesome sum.
"You must have besotted the bugger with your charms to have wangled such a
large amount!"
She pumped her hips lewdly and smiled hopefully.
"A temporary effect, alas! Now he wants to break my arms and legs and
shatter all my teeth with a hammer since I can't pay! Could you help me,
Father?"
"Spread your legs and bend over the desk. It helps me to think! I have the
germ of an idea, but I'll need to cogitate a bit, my child."
The frolicsome filly spread her lovely legs lewdly, brazenly exposing her
tight slit. She bent over and pressed her naked nipples against the cool,
polished mahogany.
A Man of God is always prepared to handle a troubled female. The Priest
pulled a tube of lubricant out of his pocket. His fingers delved in the crevice
between her smoothly rounded butt cheeks, dipping into her rectum. He worked in
lots of lubricant, an absolute necessity if she was to accomodate his larger
than average penile pile driver.
He dropped his black pants. She groaned as he worked his monster member in.
Help from the Catholic Church didn't come easily. Gamely, Deirdre moaned
prettily with each anal stretching thrust, trying hard to please.
As the big balled Priest flooded her bowels with his blessed scum, he
smiled.
"You have to leave the country, my child. Big Sean is too well connected for
you to stay on the Emerald Isle. I have a friend who runs a resort for the idle
rich at a place called Movie Star Island. Do you think you can wait on tables
for the wealthy in a rich tropical resort half a world away?"
Her pretty gold-digger eyes lit up.
"It sounds ideal, Father!"
Father Mulcahy laughed merrily.
"Not a bad position for an enterprising wench like yourself! The Movie Star
Island Resort sends a private jet to pick up it's wealthy customers and fly them
there direct. I could dip into the widow and orphan's fund to pay for your
airfare. I don't suppose that you're a widow or an orphan?"
"Even worse! I'm divorced, Father."
"That's close enough! Just don't tell the Pope!"
Her pretty face was anxious.
"When can I leave, Father? Big Sean has his great lumbering gossoons looking
for me everywhere!"
"I guess the widows and orphans fund can pay for a long distance call. I'll
phone now and set it up."
He picked up the phone and chatted amiably long distance. The person on the
other end was apparently delighted to accept a new waitress on Father Mulcahy's
recommendation. He hung up.
"The flight leaves tonight at half six. Of course, you can claim sanctuary
in the Cathedral until then."
His eyes twinkled roguishly.
"What do you suggest to pass the time?"
She grinned.
Outside, the Novice Nun squatted in the hallway, her prying eye to the
keyhole. She had experienced dark suspicions when she had seen that brazen hussy
Deirdre O'Shawnessy slink into the Priest's study, thinking herself unobserved.
Peeping and listening at the study door uimmediately afterwards seemed the most
natural thing. The Novice was scandalized at what she saw and heard. She could
hardly wait to tell the Mother Superior about this! Not to mention the other
Novices. On second thought, there was no rush about that. In case the nun thing
didn't work out, Novice Mary was learning a lot watching the shameless Deirdre
Hall and Father Mulcahy exchange bodily fluids.
Chapter 2 - Brides Of Christ
The vaulted ceilings of the Irish cathedral were covered in great, glorious
scenes of cherubim and seraphim frolicking in white clouds, scenes drawn by the
greatest artists of their age. The Mother Superior raised her eyes worshipfully
to heaven. She felt truly uplifted as she sat in the polished pew of the lofty,
reverential emptiness of the deserted cathedral.
She lifted the skirts of her robe slightly to give the Novice Nun licking
between her legs a bit more air. Mother Magdelene sighed in delight as the
Novice finished off, her young face awash in cunt juice. The Novice grinned up
at her.
"I never knew that serving God could be so much fun!"
The two women giggled. Mother Magdelene got back to business.
"Did you see the Sisters off on their desert pilgrimmage to convert the
heathen? Father Mulcahy was quite insistent that they should go after he and I
had a little talk about Novice Mary's spying habits!"
The Novice was concerned.
"I helped them to pack their meager possessions and escorted them to the
boat. They said that they had disturbing news to reveal when they got back!"
The Mother Superior patted the kneeling Novice on the head like a faithful
dog. The Novice smiled happily. She was extremely grateful to dear darling
Mother Magdelene. This life was a big improvement on her former home life which
consisted mainly of fucking Daddy and getting beaten regularly when he arrived
home from the pub, too drunk to get it up and blaming her for his own
inadequacy. Mother Magdelene was reassuring.
"Don't bother your pretty little head about them! They are just young
trouble-making girls. Missionary work will make true women of them! I'm certain
that the lord will help them to understand the cruel ways of the world and
soften their hearts so that they are less judgemental of others."
"Amen, Mother!"
In his study, Father Mucahy made a telephone call.
"Big Sean! Top of the morning to ye! That Deirdre bitch is on her way to
Movie Star Island. They'll sweat her nicely there. We'll get a nice share of the
profits from making her scream for the cameras, so you'll get your money back.
Be more careful in the future. It's OK to think with your dick, just don't spend
so much money to keep Mr. Joystick happy!"
Chapter 3 - Basted Bitches
Buried up to their necks in the burning sand, the young red-faced beauties
baked in silence, their juiceless throats too parched to even whimper. Dainty
wrists tied behind their backs and slim ankles strapped together, their only
entertainment was to watch the circling vultures, to think of their thirst and
to feel the searing sun broil their brains. The young nuns had been given a
chance to avoid all this and had blown it.
The Arab white slavers that had captured the young missionary nuns were
enthusiastically videotaping their fate to post on the Internet as a
masturbatory aid to eager surfers of hard-core pay sites. They saw it as Allah's
will and profitable, too.
At last, one by one, delirious and dehydrated, the young Brides of Christ
were dug up. Clad only in bra and panties, they were hung upside down in a meat
truck, sprayed liberally with ice cold water and taken to an abattoir.
Clamped face down on stainless steel tables, the row of tightly gagged
bitches watched apprehensively as the needles were prepared. The gags did little
to mute their shreiks as their panties were pulled down. Their buttocks and
thigh muscles were injected with muscle convulsants to painfully stimulate the
largest muscles in their tortured bodies. They arched their backs violently and
screamed into their gags, faces brick-red. Tight young buttocks clenched to
excruciating tautness and spasmed painfully. Thighs strained and quivered
agonizingly.
After a few hours of intense sweating, burning cramps and muscular
convulsions, they were unclamped, sobbing hoarsely. Their gags were loosened to
give each one a long drink of warm, brackish water to keep them going and to
bloat their stomachs nicely.
Hanging upside-down, ankles tied to meathooks, their wrists were tied to
bolts set in the floor. Sweat-soaked bras and sodden panties were cut away.
Stark naked, upside down, completely exposed, gagged, they watched fearfully as
muscular men with razor straps took positions behind each of them. Their gags
were removed to allow them to scream and vomit freely.
Slowly and deliberately, every square inch of their bare skin from the soles
of their cringing feet to their sensitive armpits was methodically and throughly
lambasted.
Bare breasts bounced and bare bums bucked as the razor straps bit into
quivering, naked female flesh, raising long scarlet welts. The sharp slap of the
strap ripped scream after scream from taut, straining throats. Row after row of
closely spaced welts were laid across retching stomachs, bloated with brackish
water. The slavers laughed as the nude nuns practised their projectile vomiting.
Cringing bare feet curled around the slashing strap as it sliced into
exquisitely sensitive soles.
Gags were slipped into the mouths of the softly sobbing women. They watched
with apprehension as steel trays of long skewers were laid down next to them.
The young beauties, who had thought themselves all screamed out, bawled like
babies as the long skewers were stabbed sideways through both breasts and nipple
rings inserted. Their bruised and battered boobies swelled magnificently to
awesome dimensions.
The basted beauties shreiked until their vocal cords tore as vinegar was
squirted into their nostrils and their sinuses exploded in a fireworks
blossoming of pain. More warm, brackish water was poured down their raw, parched
throats.
Trays of smaller skewers were laid down next to them. Their legs were parted
by strong hands. Many peed themselves as the skewers did their work on tight
virgin slits. Cuntlips were brutally pierced and labial rings inserted through
the piercings. The clitoral piercings elicited their own peculiarly high pitched
shreik as each female's most sensitive organ was exposed, delicately skewered
and a clit ring attached.
The slavers generously gave each a second chance to avoid further agony. The
young nuns were given the choice of continued abuse or becoming pampered, albeit
hard-humping, whores. The majority promptly abandoned their faith and chose
whoredom.
Ostentatiously, in front of the tightly gagged die-hards, they were released
from their bonds, given bathrobes to cover themselves, given mouthwatering food
and delicious juices and gently led off to be instructed in the art of suck-fuck
for bucks.
The plainer looking, older die-hards were taken out to the desert once more
and their naked flesh was staked spread-eagled on the red-hot sand to have their
idiot brains baked and their battered bare bodies burned bright, bright red by
the pitiless, searing sun.
The tough, good-looking die-hards were strapped onto stretchers and loaded
onto a plane to start their trip to Hamburg. The upcoming Frauleinschlachtfest
could always use some tough meat to tenderize.
The circling vultures were connoisseurs of dying meat. They landed next to
the staked out naked nuns. The women found that they had enough juice left to
croak out a scream as the vultures razor sharp bills pecked at their eyeballs.
Opening their mouths was a mistake, though, as the vultures seized their tongues
and began fighting over the tender morsel of flesh. Lower down, sharp beaks
ripped open stomachs and demonstrated why vultures have bald heads devoid of
feathers as they burrowed their heads into the steaming guts going for the
giblets.
It was indeed a Last Supper.
Chapter 4 - The Sisters Of Infinite Misery
In the Penitant's Cell in the basement of the ancient Nunnery, Novice Mary
waited patiently. She hadn't expected the Mother Superior to be too thrilled
with her spying through a keyhole and the Mother Superior had not disappointed
her. Novice Mary had been gratified to see that, in spite of this, Mother
Magdelene had taken careful note of her keyhole observations and had written
down all the particulars, including the names of nuns she had informed of Father
Mulcahy's errant ways.
Novice Mary wondered how many Hail Marys her punishment would consist of
(with perhaps a spell of kitchen duty). She idly studied the heavy steel hooks
set in the ceiling and concluded that the large Penitant's Cell had once been a
storage room for sides of beef.
The door to the cell was unlocked and three powerfully built nuns, dressed
in white robes with a large crimson cross on the front and another on the back,
were ushered in by Mother Magdelene. Novice Mary rose to greet the strangers.
Mother Magdelene was brisk.
"Sister Mary! Meet Sisters Maria and Ruth. Mother Maccabeus is the head of
their Order."
Novice Mary nodded politely. The three hard-faced nuns stared back intently.
Their cruel eyes studied her carefully. At length, Mother Maccabeus spoke.
"She'll do!"
Mother Magdelene explained.
"You have been transferred to their nunnery. They belong to The Sisters Of
Infinite Misery, a flagellant order."
"What!!"
Flagellant orders were, of course, banned long ago by Papal decree, yet they
still have their supporters. Head of the renegade sect, Mother Maccabeus was
brusque.
"In addition to the solemn vows of poverty, chastity and obedience that you
have already undertaken, all Novices to our Order adopt a Vow of Silence for the
first ten years. After that, we review your performance to see if the vow should
be lifted."
"What!! But Sister..."
Mother Maccabeus, 'The Hammer Of God' to her fearful followers, interrupted
forcibly.
"Listen carefully, Sister Mary! To your Vow of Obedience, total and
absolute, we add a Vow of Silence!"
Novice Mary swallowed hard. She looked pleadingly at Mother Magdelene.
"Mother Magdelene! Please!"
Mother Magdelene gave her a saintly, mildly exasperated look like a kindly
parent dealing with an wayward, though much loved, child.
"Mary, you weren't working out too well in our Order. The Holy Mother Church
has decided that you are better suited to the Sisters Of Infinite Misery. Accept
the Will of God, child! Remember your Vow Of Obedience? I'm telling you that you
are now a Sister of Infinite Misery. Your Vow of Silence is effective
immediately!"
Sister Mary was appalled.
"Mother Magdelene. I quit! I'm going to the newspapers! This is not only a
violation of Catholic Doctrine, it's a perverted outrage!"
Mother Maccabeus grimly unhooked a leather strap from her belt.
"That's ten!"
Mother Magdalene spoke serenely.
"Child, since you were already under the Vow Of Silence when you said that,
I am forced to ignore it! Maybe in ten years we can take it up again!"
"Fuck you!"
Mary turned to stamp out and found herself gripped between Sisters Maria and
Ruth, who handled her with the skill that comes from daily practise. Her wrists
were tied together in front of her with whipcord, lifted over her head and
hooked over one of the meathooks so that she was dangling from the ceiling with
her feet off the ground. Mother Maccabeus, a hot tempered fanatic, roared at the
dangling neophyte nun.
"Another shocking word from your foul mouth, you impudent baggage, and I'll
beat you to a bloody pulp!"
Novice Mary bit her lip and twisted anxiously in mid-air as the men filed
in, led by Father Mulcahy. She recognized Patrick, a boy she had spurned
repeatedly in school, the headmaster of that school and a former Sunday School
teacher. The rest she didn't know. Patrick was grinning hugely as he watched her
dangle helplessly by her wrists. The men had all made a generous donation to the
Sisters of Infinite Misery and in return were being allowed to watch Mary's
induction into the rogue order of nuns. They each carried a folding chair.
Quietly opening their folding chairs and placing them facing the action, they
sat expectantly. Mother Maccabeus nodded at Sister Ruth.
"Prepare her!"
Sister Ruth opened an old-fashioned straight razor and slit Mary's black
robes down the back. Quickly and deftly, her robes were sliced from her body.
Her shoes were pulled off. The men grinned as they watched her squirming in
mid-air, clad only in her white bra and panties. Her wimple remained on her
head. Sister Ruth lifted a shoulder strap and sliced it with her razor. Mary
looked anxiously at the men as Sister Ruth sliced the other shoulder strap to
her bra. Sister Ruth unhooked the bra and let it fall to the floor. Mary's big
breasts quivered delectably as she blushed furiously. Patrick, the spurned one,
was grinning so widely, it looked like his head might fall off.
Sister Ruth ran her finger inside the waistband of Mary's white panties.
With a terrified glance at Mother Maccabeus, Mary begged.
"Please! I've never been naked in front of a man!"
Mother Maccabeus exploded.
"Our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, was stripped, whipped and hung from a
cross, all in front of a huge crowd! DO YOU THINK YOURSELF BETTER THAN JESUS
CHRIST HIMSELF??!!"
Mary answered fearfully in a quaking voice.
"No. I'm not better than our Lord."
Mother Maccabeus was furious. She shreiked at Mary, the spittle flying from
her lips.
"Your Vow of Obedience and hence also your Vow of Silence is a promise to
the Lord God Almighty himself! A vow you have already broken repeatedly! HAVE
YOU NO RESPECT??!!!"
Mother Maccabeus took a deep breath, her eyes gleaming madly.
"That's twenty extra strokes in addition to the ten you've already earned
through your blasphemous insolence!"
She snapped the waistband of Mary's panties.
"Remove them!!"
A slash of the razor on either side and Mary's panties were jerked from
between her legs. She clamped her thighs together frantically. The men eyed her
neatly shaven pussy with interest. At the sight of it, Mother Maccabeus erupted
volcanically, screaming in righteous outrage.
"WHORE!!"
Mother Maccabeus' strap was basically a strong, flat, steel spring
sandwiched between two heavy strips of leather stitched together attached to a
long grip that resembled a tennis racquet handle. In a religious fury, she swung
hard. There was a sound like a large firecracker exploding as it connected with
Mary's pale white ass cheeks. Mary screamed and arched forward, twisting and
writhing frantically as a thick red welt appeared on her bum. The Holy Mother
swung hard and fast. It sounded like a chain of firecrackers exploding in a
staccato burst as burning red welts blossomed on Mary's buttocks and thighs.
Mary shreiked dementedly, kicking and jerking, bare legs scissoring wildly.
Mother Maccabeus, who had been a tennis pro famous for her fireball serve
until she had received The Call Of Christ, combined temper, temperament and
training in her use of the strap. The wristy follow-through combined with
lightning speed made her entire following quake whenever she started fingering
the strap that always hung from her belt. They all felt it's fiery, passionate
kiss regularly, a deeply religious experience.
She raised the strap higher for the next series, laying a row of parallel,
thick red welts along Mary's back. Mary screamed and arched her torso forward
violently with each stroke, her heavy breasts heaving. The sitting men nodded in
approval. Mother Maccabeus shook her head in disgust. Her voice shook with
revulsion.
"A shaven slit is the mark of Satan's Whore! The Sisters Of Infinite Misery
make a specialty of converting Satanic Whores into Virgin Brides of Christ!"
Mother Maccabeus waited until Mary swung around, presenting her chest. She
chopped down viciously with the strap, edge first. Mary squealed as her nipples
felt like they were being sliced from her tits. In a virtuoso display, the strap
fanned up and down with stunning speed, lifting and then slapping down Mary's
melons alternately just before they reached the top and bottom of their swung.
The men noted with approval that her breasts were always swinging into the fiery
kiss of the strap.
Mother Maccabeus switched again. The strap fanned back and forth in a blur
of speed, slapping first one breast like a pimp bitch-slapping his whore, and
then working the other. The crisp sound of leather slapping tit-meat hard and
fast filled the room, a playing card being fanned by bicycle spokes.
When Mother Maccabeus was done, Mary's swollen breasts were bright red,
capped by bruised, purple nipples. She nodded to her helpers.
"We know how to handle Satanic Sluts! I guarantee that this whore won't be
using her moneymaker anytime soon!"
Mary cried out in distress as Sisters Maria and Ruth each grabbed an ankle
and pulled hard in opposite directions, like children fighting over a wishbone.
Mary whimpered in fear as she saw Mother Maccabeus shift her grip to demonstrate
her famous two-handed backhand swing.
Mary squealed shrilly as the strap sliced up between her legs, kissed her
cuntlips and slapped her clit hard. Her two assistants held on tightly as Mother
Maccabeus, The Hammer Of God, lifted a shreiking Mary repeatedly with her
powerful swing. At last, when Mary's cuntlips were purple and savagely
distended, her swollen clit battered and blue, Mother Maccabeus rested, wiping
the sweat from her brow, having worked hard to help the Sinner see the error of
her ways and achieve Supreme Goodness. She studied the blubbering Novice in
disgust.
"We have a way of dealing with those who repeatedly break their sacred Vow
Of Silence, a promise to the Lord High God Almighty Himself! You are expected to
accept Discipline and Mortification Of The Flesh humbly and, above all,
QUIETLY!"
Sisters Ruth and Maria glanced at Maria in pity. They knew that it was time
for the Crucible Kiss. Mother Maccabeus smiled gently as Sisters Maria and Ruth
withdrew their Spreaders, basically a broad hooked flange attached to a handle.
Sister Maria hooked hers under Mary's top row of teeth and pulled upwards.
Sister Ruth hooked hers under Mary's bottom row of teeth and pulled downwards.
Mary hung, jaws spread wide, while Mother Maccabeus gave her the pep talk.
"Sister Mary! You have been tried in the Crucible and found wanting! A
breaker of your Sacred Vows! Unworthy to be a Bride Of Christ! But The Sisters
Of Infinite Misery is a merciful order, well able to cope with the weaknesses of
the flesh! We will help you to achieve a Higher Godliness than anyone had
suspected possible with a simple kiss. Most kisses are deadly acts of evil
hypocrisy!"
Mother Maccabeus looked sternly at her male audience, who shifted
uncomfortably in their seats under her unforgiving glare.
"A kiss is mainly the Devil's Instrument of Seduction, used by men to
subvert women to purposes of the utmost depravity! Christ was betrayed by a
kiss. We convert it from a thing of horror to an Instrument Of Good!"
Mother Maccabeus clasped Mary lovingly and gently applied her lips to
Mary's. She sucked Mary's moist, pink tongue into her mouth and bit down hard.
Mary screamed into her mouth as Mother Maccabeus chewed savagely, not severing
her tongue but bruising and puncturing it cruelly. Mary's muffled shreiks went
on and on as Mother Maccabeus gave her tongue an obscenely long, thoughtful chew
while Mary squirmed and screamed, her grotesquely swollen naked breasts crushed
against Mother Maccabeus' ample chest.
At last, Mother Maccabeus was done. She looked at her work with
satisfaction. Mary hung by her wrists, sobbing hysterically.
"Remember this, foul mouthed gutterslut. You won't be able to blaspheme at
all for quite a while. In future, if you make the smallest sound while accepting
Discipline, you'll get another Crucible Kiss!"
The men folded their chairs and crept out. Foolishly, young Patrick stepped
up to shake Mother Maccabeus' hand.
"You do superb work with sinners, Mother Maccabeus!"
Mother Maccabeus turned, piercing him with her gimlet glare.
"You look like you could use some work yourself!"
Patrick began edging away nervously. Father Mulcahy intervened quickly.
Dealing with religious fanatics was a job for the trained professional, not for
callow youth.
"Indeed he does! I've been working hard with him meself! Off ye go, ye
miserable sinner!"
He pushed Patrick out the door and shut it behind him. On the other side,
Big Sean O'Toole was guiding the men with their bulging trousers to his
whorehouse where they could purchase some relief. Mother Maccabeus was very good
for business.
Father Mulcahy dropped by early the next morning to see how Novice Mary was
settling in. The Sisters Of Infinite Misery were lined up in a row, bent over,
bottoms bared. Most flagellant orders are self-flagellating, but Mother
Maccabeus felt that this led to laxity and had 'toughened up' the order by
performing the strappings herself. Sisters Ruth and Maria knelt by each
pinch-faced Nun as Mother Maccabeus performed her morning strapping, listening
carefully for the smallest gasp or groan, a failure of Discipline that would
necessitate a Crucible Kiss. After each nun received her strapping, she fell to
her knees, kissed Mother Maccabeus' ring respectfully, thanked her and resumed
their almost ceaseless round of chores.
The ones that hadn't been strapped yet waited patiently, bent over and
bottoms bared, while Mother Maccabeus and Father Mulcahy had a chat. Many of the
nuns had been seconded into the order at Father Mulcahy's insistence, but there
was no trace of resentment on their faces. They understood that a sullen nun
gets extra.
"How's young Novice Mary doing?"
Mother Maccabeus was earnest.
"The poor girl was deep in sin, but she's making progress! She tried to fake
illness after licking the toilets clean with her swollen tongue, but a good
strapping worked wonders! You did well to put her here! The poor sinner was just
crying out for help! We're giving her a little quiet time down in the shitpit to
help her acclimatise."
Father Mulcahy was pleased. The self-righteous little bitch was going to be
no problem at all, if indeed she survived Mother Maccabeus' rigorous regime,
which seemed doubtful. He eyed the row of bared bottoms with interest.
"Mind if I watch?"
Mother Maccabeus was gracious to one of her staunchest supporters.
"Not at all! The extra humiliation will do them good!"
Chapter 5 - Holy Hell
The Penitent walked up the aisle under the high vaulted ceilings of the
cathedral. He breathed deeply, enjoying the smell of the incense that sweetened
the air. The varnish on the expensive, hand carved woodwork gleamed in the
brightly coloured light that shone through the stained glass windows. The
superbly sculpted, larger-than-life Christ with his crown of thorns hung high on
his huge wooden cross looking down on the empty pews with deeply compassionate
anguish.
The Penitent's footsteps echoed hauntingly on the hard wooden floors. The
acoustics of the ancient, beautifully maintained Irish cathedral were superb.
The Penitent seated himself quietly in the confessional booth.
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."
Father Mulcahy was a genial soul. He cackled gleefully.
"Good for you! If it weren't for sin, I'd have to turn to honest labour!"
Sinner and Priest chuckled together briefly
. "What is the nature of your sin, my son?"
"I have raped, tortured and murdered many women!"
There was a moment of absolute, dead silence in the House Of God. The Priest
responded quietly, unshaken.
"Ah....... then you've taken care of those bitches that were going to rat me
out?"
"Exactly, father!"
"God bless the IRA for connecting us up with the Arab terrorists. The Lord
works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform! Did you and your Arab friends
make the bitches scream long and hard as I instructed?"
"Yes, Father, here's the video."
Father Mulcahy tucked it into his voluminous robe for future reference.
"Did you and your Arab friends convert a satisfying number of them to the
whorish faith, where they worship on their knees and on their backs, with their
tongues and with their holes?"
"Yes, Father, they're on their backs putting their moneymakers to work for
us as we speak. The profits should be quite tidy!"
"Did you stake out the worthless ones to roast in the desert so that the
vultures can feed on their otherwise useless carcasses?"
"Yes, Father."
"Wonderful!"
The Priest adopted a sanctimonious tone of deep piety. He rolled his eyes
prayerfully upwards.
"A shame about those poor, young nuns lost in the desert. They may never be
found!"
"I certainly hope not, Father! I don't think we have to worry. They looked
like very hungry vultures!"
"Did you send the ones I selected to Hamburg for the annual snuff party at
Die Singvogel: the Frauleinschlachtfest?"
"Yes, Father!"
"Excellent! Say a billion Hail Marys and we'll call it even! I guess our
Arab friends will have to say a billion Hail Allahs!"
The superb acoustics of the otherwise deserted House of God echoed the
corrupt laughter of the truly depraved, converting it to a thing of supreme
beauty.
