“But…but you said…”
“I say lots of things,” Cozbi scoffed. “What? No one told you I’m a liar?”
“If you’re a liar, then how do I know you’re telling the truth about curing me?”
“You don’t. But what other options do you have?”
Job sat, shaking with both anger and fear. Anger at Cozbi’s deception and betrayal, fear at just how much worse this could get for him if he refused her.
And fear of the consequences from above if he actually went through with it.
“If… if I do this, and I get to keep my soul, wouldn’t God still punish me anyway for corrupting her?”
Cozbi shrugged. “Maybe. But that’s not my problem. Look, if it helps: I don’t ALWAYS lie. And I can’t lie about the soul thing. Part of the arrangement. If you do this for me, you absolutely get to keep your soul.
“From there, you’ll at least get your chance to plead your case with God. You’ll probably just get sentenced to Limbo for a few millennia. But if you refuse, well… do you REALLY want to spend eternity with me after pissing me off?”
“No. I suppose not. But how the hell am I supposed to seduce a nun?”
Cozbi offered that oh so wicked grin. “It won’t be as hard as you think. Sister Emily isn’t as ‘pure’ as she looks. It would only take a nudge to push her over the edge of depravity. A nudge from you.”
“So when do I do this?”
“No time like the present, Job. Tick tock. That tumor isn’t getting any smaller, ya know.”
With a resigned sigh, Job got out of his car and made his way slowly across the street.
He paused at the entrance, turning back to look for Cozbi. She was, of course, gone.
His hand trembling, Job reached for the door and stepped inside.
The lobby was bigger than he expected, and cleaner.
A nun, much older and larger than the lovely young woman he’d watched enter this place moments before, greeted him from the reception desk. “May I help you?”
Job cleared his throat nervously. “I’m, um, here to see Sister Emily.”
The nun eyed him warily. “She’s in her office. May I ask the purpose of your visit?”
“I, um, I’m here to… I wanted to make a donation to the shelter. I was told she would be the one to speak to.”
Job had no clue what he was doing. He was making shit up on the fly, with no idea whether this woman would buy it.
From the frown she offered, it certainly didn’t appear so. “Well, while we appreciate your generosity, contributions are usually handled by…”
Her speech was halted as Sister Emily came down the hall, carrying a stack of paperwork. “Sister Agnes, I’ve finished the inventory on the pantry supplies and I was wondering if you could…”
Sister Emily froze in her tracks when she spotted Job. Her eyes went wide with shock, fear and… recognition?
The papers she’d been holding fell, scattering across the floor.
For a moment, she contemplated turning to run. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself. “Oh! I’m so sorry! You startled me. I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here. I feel so foolish!”
She bent to collect her papers. Job moved to assist. “Please, let me help. It’s the least I can do for frightening you.”
The tension between them was palpable as he handed her the papers he’d collected.
It was Sister Agnes who broke the silence. “This gentleman says he’s here to see you. Something about a donation?”
Sister Emily tore her gaze from him. “What? Oh. Oh yes, of course. Our appointment. I’m sorry, Sister Agnes, I forgot to mention it to you.”
Turning back to Job, her large, oval eyes implored him to play along despite his obvious confusion. “If you’ll follow me, please, my office is right down the hall. We can discuss things there.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Job thought. He’d made no such appointment, of course. Still, he followed her lead, her slender legs generating a quick pace as they moved down the hall and into her office.
To his surprise, she locked the door behind her.
“We can’t stay in here long,” her voice was low, intense, “Sister Agnes is already suspicious, and I’m not supposed to be alone in a room with a man. So let’s not waste any time. Now, how do you know me, and why are you here?”
Job was completely flummoxed. This wasn’t how he’d expected things to go at all. “I… I’m looking to make a donation to your shelter here. I was told you’re in charge, and I wanted to meet…”
“Bullshit,” she sneered. Her use of profanity was yet another on her list of surprises for him. “If you’d have called someone here to ask, I’d have found out about it. So let’s start again, Mr. Beefslab. Yes, I know who you are. Now tell me why you’re REALLY here.”
Job cringed, both at her calling him out on his rather pathetic attempt at deception, and at her use of his “professional” name. Outside of the business, it really did sound rather stupid.
“How do you know…?”
“It doesn’t matter right now.” Sister Emily seemed suddenly embarrassed. “What matters is why are you here, and why did you ask for me specifically?”
“It’s… it’s a rather long story. And a, well, a very strange one. I don’t think you’d believe me.”
“You’d be surprised what I’d believe right now, why don’t you just…”
A knock at the door cut her off. “Sister Emily?” Sister Agnes called, “Is everything okay in there?”
“Fine,” Sister Emily responded, “we’re just finishing up.”
She whirled on Job, her voice a harsh whisper. “We can’t do this now. Meet me back here tonight, ten o’clock. Everyone else will be gone. We need to talk.”
Without waiting for a reply, she unlocked the door and ushered him out of the room. Sister Agnes was still standing in the hall, looking quite perturbed.
“Thank you for your generous donation offer,” Sister Emily called after him, “we’ll discuss it in greater depth soon.”
Sister Emily almost slammed the door behind her, ignoring the concerned glare of Sister Agnes completely.
When she was sure Agnes had left and she would not be disturbed, Sister Emily sank to her trembling knees, her entire body a live wire of nervous energy.
Her hands were clammy, her brow covered in a sheen of cold sweat.
Her panties were a hot, soaked mess.
Sister Emily raised her eyes heavenward. “Is this a test, Lord? I need to be sure. If you really can hear me, I beg you; tell me what to do.”
Silence answered her.
Eyes closed, Sister Emily bowed her head.
“Thy will be done, Lord.”
——————————————-
“Hurry, get inside.”
Job had arrived promptly at 10pm. Sister Emily met him at the door, pulling him in quickly before closing and locking it behind them.
Wordlessly she directed Job to follow her. The place was quiet, empty, yet her gaze shifted nervously from side to side as she led him down a series of dark hallways, as if she expected someone to jump out from around each corner.
At the end of the final hall was a door. A small, wooden sign above marked it simply as “Chapel.”
Again she locked the door behind her. “Sit.”
The Chapel was small, with only a few wooden pews, the kind with built-in kneelers. Job took one, while Sister Emily instead moved to the altar at the front of the room.
Producing a lighter, she lit the four prayer candles atop the altar, then, bowing her head, silently performed the sign of the cross.
She turned to face him. They contemplated each other in silence for several moments as he took in her breathtaking beauty.
The few strands of blonde hair that had escaped the veil she wore hung over her oval face. Her skin glowed with a natural radiance, free of makeup or lipstick.
A scattering of adorable freckles adorned her tapered nose and cheekbones. Her pale blue eyes twinkled in the soft light.
Her narrow pink lips offered a crooked smile. “So, which of us should go first?”
Job shook his head to break the spell. “Looks like we both have a story to share. I think I should probably start.”
Sister Emily remained by the altar, in rapt attention as Job told his tale. She appeared neither shocked nor offended, even as he embarrassingly described his rather pathetic, self serving requests in exchange for his eternal soul.
Job went on to tell her how he’d gotten into the Adult Film industry, (he couldn’t bring himself to use the word “porn” in front of her) and his recent discovery of the brain tumor that would soon claim his life.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he finished. Job paused in his tale to wipe them away.
Sister Emily moved to sit beside him. She took his hand. “I’m sorry to hear this. I truly am. Now, tell me; what does all of this have to do with me?”
Job composed himself, but couldn’t meet her eye. “I’m supposed to… oh God, this will sound terrible, I know… I was made a new offer. Cozbi promised to cure my tumor and allow me to keep my soul, in exchange for… seducing you.”
The silence was deafening. When he finally managed to meet her gaze, he found, not horror or disgust, but sympathy.
“I’m so sorry, Sister,” Job croaked, again close to tears. “I’m a horrible person for even considering such a thing, let alone agreeing to it. But I didn’t know what else to do.”
Leave a Reply