Sister Mia, convent hospitaler

The war between heaven and hell had been lost on earth. It was that corporeal land that saw the destruction of God's wrath. His cosmic wager with the Fallen Angel forfeit, and timeless omnipresence being no guarantor of magnanimity, the narcissistic old coot turned His gaze from his disappointment.

How long then, do you think, dear reader, that the Fallen Lucifer had reveled in his victory? How long did he savor the ultimate humiliation of his rival and better? Did the mirthful cacophony still shake hell’s halls? No; the truth is that Satan’s vindication pleased him not even for one moment. Not one of earth’s seconds, itself a thousand years in hell, passed before the Devil was crestfallen to apathy, for Lucifer had been made to foil Yahweh’s plans. With the corruption of Jesus at his second coming, the old paradox had been solved, for God had made, in Lucifer, a stone so great that He could not lift it.

Thus did the old fallen angel, the Prince of Lies, dismiss his cackling imps and demons. Masterless and untethered like Ronin, they were abandoned to wander the halls of hell, or to crawl up through the cracks in the earth that God’s wrath had torn.

Upon the earth they were **** into mortal, corporeal forms. Their bodies were avatars of their passions. Ranging from the small mischievous imps, blood red and bat winged, all the way up to hulking, bull headed and musclebound monsters that towered twice the height of a man. Reviled and hunted, they kept to the bad places, like the crater of the star Wormwood. Legions of them skulked through the ruins of the old world gnawing on its bones, or, for challenge and amusement, slipped into the alleys and basements of the new one.

Wherever they went, they found a world beyond the grace of God. There were no more sins to tempt, no more angels to battle. They were monsters in a lawless wasteland at worst, and barbarian warlords like any other at best.

It wasn’t long before the arrival of the half-breeds. Mothers wept in shame that were delivered babies with soft horns forming on their heads, or piked tails lashing behind them. Children with the wings of a bat, bifurcated tongues, and skin of a purple or bright red hue were cast out of society either by their guilty demon-slut mothers or their jealous cuckolded husbands.

The Church gathered such dispossessed orphans into their arms. In them lay, if not the objects of mercy, then a clue into the person of the demon who corrupted Christ himself. There are some in the convent of Christ’s holy nuns who see their work looking after the half-breeds as pure charity. Still others are arcane historians- hunters that stalk the bloodlines of these half-breeds for that purloined Grail like the Jesuits of old. As this story begins, Sister Hospitaler Mia is the former kind, and her secretive student Jez is the latter.

Mia’s olive skin contrasted with the pristine and shining white of her nurses’ habit. A tiny cap with a red cross kept her dark hair hidden and tied up high on her head. Big round glasses gleamed in the candlelight and perched atop her smiling cheeks. Her generous smile revealed perfect white and straight teeth as well as a cute innocence. A white collar was laced around her neck, with the same white material as her hat trailing down, open, to cover the top halves of the enormous globes that were her breasts. On a smaller sister hospitaler, it would have covered her tits modestly, but on Sister Mia, the gown barely covered her dark nipples. Her breasts swelled out beneath it, and the garment merely rested atop them.

She wore the elbow length gloves and thigh- high heeled boots of her order, but these were matching white, in her case. The infirmary ward was staffed by nuns similarly attired- white instead of black for the sisters of mercy. All else she wore was a belt with some instruments attached. Front and back, a thin white loincloth hung to her ankles. In front, it did passing well to hide the tuft of dark hair between her legs. In back, all the loincloth did was to disappear between her thick, plump ass, the color of creamy coffee, and the shape of a heart.

Across from her in the dim and torch lit chamber stood Jez, similarly attired, and about a head shorter. Jez was fair skinned however, with a generous sprinkle of brown freckles on her high cheekbones. Her hair, hidden under the hospitaler cap, was only just beginning to grow back from her time chained to the abbey’s altar as a Eucharistic servant. She wore a nervous look, clasping her hands behind her back and shifting from one foot to the other as she sucked in her pink bottom lip and released it again.

Jez’s collar was laced at the bottom, unlike Sister Mia’s, presumably for modesty. This bunched her perky and round tits and bulged the flimsy garment wide, showing copious cleavage. Instead of a loincloth, Jez wore the more traditional wrap around skirt, which ended just under the curve of her sweet and pouty ass. The novice looked to Mia to be small and shy and nervous, but that was on account of Sister Mia’s optimistic and trusting nature.

For Novice Jez was not, in fact, a novice at all. The year she had spent blindfolded and chained to the altar, preparing the chalices of hot steaming spunk, burning incense, and coaxing the balls of the priest were spent in careful preparation for this day. It was the day that she was to be trusted to work the infirmary ward and minister to the poor demon halfbreeds nursed there. The order of nuns was tacit about their half-demon patients. To gain certain knowledge of them, The Order of the Sluts of Christ needed to send a trained paladin in disguise.

Jez’s nervous demeanor was counterfeit, but her curiosity was not. From the other side of the double doors behind her, a soft chorus of pleading moans lilted like an endless song. She heard voices moved to begging moans. There were very few words that she could pluck from the swirling sounds, but she did hear the occasional fuck! And please! It wasn’t pain, save that pain which hums when pleasure’s consummation is only a hair’s breadth out of reach.

“These poor souls,” Sister Mia was explaining in a gentle voice laden with compassion. “They’ve nowhere to go. We’re the only ones who can help them, and their needs are endless.” She sighed heavily and looked off to the side, causing her tested garment to slide up over and then down her nipples, exposing them for a brief moment. She returned her bespectacled eyes to Sister Jez and smiled again with hope.

“But you’re here now, and do we ever need your help. I’m sure the reverend mother has explained, that we need your discretion as well as your faithful ministrations.”

Jez stopped sucking her pouting lip and stood up straight. “Of course Mistress. I live to ease the suffering of the worldly.”

Mia seemed to breathe another sigh, this one relieved and revealing as the first. “Good, child. Now, please, I know that you’ve never seen anything like this before, bless your soul…”

Jez suppressed a smirk. She may have been young, but she had seen every lewd and depraved creature that hell had to offer, she thought. The sounds from behind the door sounded like mewling young girls, nothing she, as a clandestine paladin, had to be worried about.

“…so do try to remain calm. For yourself, and for the dignity of our poor wretched patients.”

Jez nodded curtly and made the sign of the cross. Mouth, left breast, right breast, cunt.

“Good. Now, let me show you the infirmary.” With that, Mia opened the double doors to the hospital ward.