Epilogue - Discourse with the bishop

You turn and Father James is standing and facing you. His face 'looks' no different and yet somehow is, you come to the realisation that there is no change in how he looks just in the way you see him. You now know, not suspect or having been told or believe, you know that Father James engages in sexual acts and with other men. You gasp as you then realise that Father James must now see you in this similar different light! You feel him take your hand, these realisations coming as a shock to you. Are you no longer the person you were the same way Father James is not the person you thought he was.

You're almost in a daze, vaguely aware that you are being escorted by the man with the scraggly beard and the bishop through a fire exit at the back of the shop. The air seems so clean and clear compared to the hot stuffiness of the booth, and even the shop. You are led over and into a car. Perhaps it is the sitting, perhaps the sound of the engine starting, perhaps you'd just reached the end of that twisting chain of thought but you turn to the bishop and babble out.

"Am I a slut? Are you gay? What is going to happen to us?"

Father James leans back into the drivers seat, leaving the engine idling in the sex shops car park, turns to your befuddled face and in his normal sedate and nurturing tone responds.

"I don't think so Sister, you don't strike me as the slutty sort. And I'm not gay, I just have certain urges and I find places like this the best place to quiet them so I can concentrate on other things. And nothing is going to happen to us. Nothing more than before."

During the ride back to the convent Father James explains a bit about his background and how he got into the church. His personal belief that homosexuality is no more a sin than not executing apostates, about God being Love. About thinking he could forgo sex when he entered the church and about how his understanding of that changed.

He pulled over a short distance from the convent and switched off the engine and placed his hand on your own and told you to speak with him when you feel ready, in confession if you like, about what has happened tonight. That it was your decision if you want to tell the Mother Superior about what happened.

You left the car and returned home to the convent, where the other Sisters made a fuss about having left you and when the Mother Superior asks where you've been you told her that you were left walking the streets, with some people mocking your faith by giving you false directions. By the next day life had returned to normal and after a week or so of thought and recollection of the event and the experiences you go to confess your sins to the bishop.

He knows what you did but asks whether you've had desire to relive it, to do it again. You admit you had but you were suppressing the desire, but when you were serving men at the soup kitchen you could smell there manly stench and you could swear you could make out the musk there swelling dicks make and that had 'an effect' on you. It was becoming more than a distraction and try as you might you couldn't suppress it. Father James understood and said he had an idea.

Mother Superior told you that you were going to help at en evening ministry and the bishop asked for you personally. You knew that there was no ministry but you couldn't say anything to the Reverent Mother. He was due to arrive a couple of hours later and for every second of it you couldn't do anything but get excited about feeling the warmth of a cock again.

When he arrived he sat you in the back of the car with a bag of donated clothes and told you to get changed. As you fished through the bag you realised none of the articles would be considered modest but with your mind thinking only of cocks and cum you didn't even realise you'd stripped down before the bishops wandering eyes before you caught him ogling your curves.

So in a pair of flat shoes, a black leather mini skirt and a loose white top sans bra, the bishop said the look didn't work but you suspect he just wanted to get a better look at your tits, you re-entered the sex shop. Men saw you straight away, and the way this older man was steering you with a hand on your plump ass to the back of the shop. Some followed like pilot fish as you were led into a booth, a different one than before, perhaps the one the men were in.

Inside was the delightful hole in the wall, but to your shock there was one on the other side of the room too. The booths either side being instantly filled, the bishop taking your hand and pushing it through a hole for a second or two before pulling it out. Moments later a thick drooping cock was pushed through the hole and you quickly got to work. Some cocks did not want your mouth, and vice versa for the bishops. But word of your skills soon spread and men would wait and line up to feed your their dicks whilst the bishop 'starved'.

And so it came to pass that on the second Wednesday of every month you'd be taken to the disgusting and sinful sex shop where you would kneel and serve larger and larger crowds of men under the watchful eye of the bishop. Maybe you aren't the same person you once were, but you don't feel like a slut and you still feel like a servant. You find out you're referenced by the patrons as Sister Succor, for the pun and because you provide the aid they need.

Fin