Memories

The Mother Superior began to undo Sister Marie’s clothes when Sister Lela stopped her by grabbing her hand. She then said in a soft caring voice, “I’m not sure what is going on Cynthia, but you are far more soaked than me or Sister Marie. Go take care of yourself. You are soaked to the bone from this stuff. I will take care of Sister Marie.”

Sister Lela was the Mother Superior’s closest friend and was one the only one currently that knew why Cynthia had joined the church. For Sister Lela to call her by her birth name and not Mother Superior meant that Sister Lela was worried about her. She was going to say no, when Sister Marie began to moan and stir on her own.

The two waited as Sister Marie began to slowly open her eyes. Suddenly, Sister Marie sat up right and cried out, “Demons. Mother Superior there are demons above us.”

Cynthia hugged the woman to her and in a soft caring voice said, “I know Sister Marie. I saw them as well. But we are safe here in the church. The Lord will protect us. Right now I need you to go with Sister Lela and clean the grey ooze off of your skin. Then will will need to gather your clothes and burn them.” Sister Lela continued to kneel bewildered by what the two were saying. As the Mother Superior let go of Sister Marie, Sister Lela helped her up and followed her into the shower stall.

Cynthia watched them go and then began to walk into another stall. As she scoured her skin, she thought to herself, Oh god, give us strength, please. I hoped that there was only one, but she saw more. Just how many are out there. I hope I am right. I hope our locked windows and doors will keep them at bay. As she scoured the ooze from her skin, Cynthia found it difficult to concentrate. She began to worry that if the church fell where would she go? This was her home, her sanctuary. She had joined the church as a teenager to escape persecution. Granted nowadays, being gay or rather a lesbian was considered inoffensive. But in her day, people would you for being a lesbian. Hell, where she was from they might have even killed her if they had learned she was into women.

She had joined the church to get away from those worries. Now, just outside, there was something that could take away her home, her security. Cynthia was so caught up in rambling thoughts that she did not realize that she was actually washing her breasts to such a point that her nipples had grown hard and quite sensitive. Cynthia began to remember the various failed relationships with men in an attempt to normalize herself and prove she could love a man. Despite trying though, she could never bring herself to go all the way with these men. She only ever made it to second base. Cynthia thought to herself that she had been prideful about still being a virgin. Now she wondered what might have been if she just had let it happen, what would it have felt like.

Cynthia’s hand was now pinching her nipples while her other hand was rubbing back and forth across her mound. Images of her with past boyfriends kissing, touching, fucking filled her mind. Abruptly, she stopped as her mind realized these were fantasies, not reality. She had never slept with a man. Cynthia also realized she was touching herself. Cynthia began to grow worried. Had that goo corrupted her in some manner, was it still corrupting her. She needed to pray for strength, for guidance, for divine protection.

“Bang,” Cynthia heard the other stall door shut forcefully while the shower continued on. She wondered what was going on and turned off her shower and headed out to see.