Mary Bruna intervenes

Mary Bruna let her gaze wander over the colorful hustle and bustle and the cheerful crowd. She was a very tolerant and open-minded nun who was aware that people needed freedom to feel comfortable. That's why she was happy to turn a blind eye if someone didn't strictly adhere to the rules. And a bit of fun and frivolity outside the convent walls was also fine.

But what she couldn't stand at all was when someone was humiliated. And what she discovered in this regard in one of the side alleys made her blood pressure soar. Determined, she broke away from the line of sisters trotting behind the novice mistress and marched with long strides towards the throwing booth.

A cluster of cheerful people, mainly young men, the nun was not surprised to see, surrounded a fairground stall where you could buy some sponges for a few cents. The purpose was to dip these sponges into the provided water buckets until they were dripping wet and then throw them at a target on the back wall of the stall.

It was the turn of an athletic lad. He had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows so they wouldn't get wet. He held a dripping sponge in each hand. With a quick movement of his head, he shook his tousled black hair from his forehead. Then he made a wide sweep.

Mary Bruna caught his arm.

"Just a moment, young man. I don't like what you're up to."

The thwarted thrower looked puzzled at the woman in the habit, who was holding his throwing arm and obviously didn't understand what the point of this attraction was.

The target he had taken aim at was a woman whose upper third of her body was stuck in a hole that had been sawn into the wooden plank wall. To help the paying customers, a huge target was painted all around, the bullseye of which was the woman's head, so to speak - although she herself definitely was not a bull. Her hair was black and hung down in wet strands, indicating that she had already spent some time in this spot and during this time quite a few fairgoers had proven their aim with the sponges.

Apart from her head, her shoulders and the front part of her upper body were still sticking out of the wall. The latter was particularly attractive for the mainly male spectators, as the pretty young woman's clothing - apart from her completely ruined hairstyle - consisted of a blouse with a wide, very wide neckline. And as far as you could see, nothing else.

Of course, you couldn't see whether she was wearing a skirt, trousers, stockings, shoes or anything else for that matter. Because she was stuck in the wall. And since the wall was opaque, there was no way of knowing what she looked like below her belly button.

It was easy to see by her very wide neckline that she had been very generously provided for in terms of female attributes by the good Lord. And the soaked cotton fabric of her blouse, which clung tightly to her skin, left no doubt that she might have been a little careless with her underwear today. At least no other item of clothing was visible under the thin, almost transparent fabric.

What was visible, however, were two clear indications that the poor girl was a little cold despite the warm temperature outside. Two exceptionally clear, surprisingly large indications, which the numerous young men standing around never tired of pointing out to each other.

The guy with the two dripping sponges was still looking puzzled at the black-clad nun, who didn't seem to be letting go of him any time soon. He felt cheated of his success. He had bet his friends that he would be able to place at least one of the heavy, wet projectiles in the target's expansive cleavage so that its weight would pull down the hem of her blouse, which was only held in place by a thin ribbon.

Maria Bruna glared at him with dark eyes and shook her head resolutely.