I happen to have a nun's outfit (shocking, I know!). Robes, scapular, habit, the whole nine yards. I wear it sometimes just for kicks. Sometimes because when I do wear it, the stinking cock-walking n00bs tend to leave me alone, and sometimes I wear it to see what kind of reaction I'll get. I wear it places like Gotham Island or the Dark Den, just to see what people will say. One day, I landed at the Dark Den wearing my nun's outfit. I'd been off-and-on frequenting the place since before the sandstorm which turned the place into little more than a desert (which was before the rainstorms, which transformed the land into a tropical paradise - strange things happen in the Bermuda Triangle).
Sadly, I received little reaction at all. The slave girls there, as well as staff and visitors paid no attention whatsoever to my outfit. Or, if they did, they kept their opinions to themselves. But while I was there, I noticed a man sitting on a ledge, at the top of a ramp with a rather stunning girl at his side. While I had never met the man, I knew who he was. See, I have a very good friend who is a house slave at the Dark Den. I've known her since her first day in SL, and we've become quite close friends. Some months ago she was having a rather hard time. This and that happened, which she was not expecting, and it kinda messed with her emotions for awhile. This man, Mr. C I'll call him, was like a constant in her life there. He was always willing to talk to her, not about her problem, she didn't share that with anybody there (she should have, she would have gotten over her road bump much quicker if she had, but she is not much of an emotional sharer). But, he always talked kindly to her, treated with a certain degree of respect, like she was important to him and to the Dark Den, which always made her feel good.
So I decided to talk to this man, to thank him for helping my friend. I made my way across the sandy ground, and up the ramp.
"They tell me you are Mr. C" I said "am I interrupting anything?" I asked him, and smiled at his slave sitting near him "Hello child" I greeted.
"How can I help you sister?" He asked.
"I only wanted to say thank you." I was smiling, my voice calm and soft, and full of blessing and peace. "A good friend of mine has been having some problems, and she told me you were very kind to her. And, I wanted to express my thanks for that." I explained.
His eyes seemed to light with a spark at my gratitude, a trace of a smile on his lips, "Should I ask who this friend of your was?...or, 'is' I should say."
I smiled apologetically "I am afraid I cannot divulge that....it came up in a confidential discussion."
"I completely understand," he assured me nodding.
"Not quite as sacred as the confessional, but I hold it in the same like, even if the Church does not." I continued.
"Would you like to have a seat?" he asked, motioning to the ground next to him.
I was rather warm, in my black robes, scapular and habit, in the desert, the sun baking me in the outfit, "Thank you, perhaps I can rest awhile...but I did not run off your friend did I? I would hate to interfere with your business," I said, noticing his girl had walked off.
"No hun, she was leaving." He said. My eyebrow raised and I looked at him askance as he used the term 'hun', but decided to say nothing at the time.
"Very well." I said, smiling my peaceful, smile again as I lowered myself to sit on the ledge with him. "I have to admit though, after my friend speaking of your kindness..." I paused for effect, "your appearance shocks me a little" He smiled, I could almost see a chuckle caught in his throat. I went on "you do not look like a man that would behave in such a manner." I said, still smiling the peaceful smile, and drawing my gaze to the bow strung across his back.
I should point out here, that Mr. C is an imposing figure. He is tall and thick. His skin bronzed, his hair spiked. He stands, with his fists clenching and un-clenching, like he's ready to clock the next person that looks at him sideways. His eyebrows point up, and he sports a goatee. Across his back, is a tattoo of some demon, or dragon, or demon/dragon/goat/ram thing. On his chest, two tattoos, one on each pec. One a ram, the other a bull. Both facing each other, in the form of being ready to charge, or to fight. To put it bluntly, the man is foreboding in appearance.
"Looks can be deceiving sister"
"True, one cannot judge a book by it's cover, or else the 'Good Book', with it's plain and simple cover, would never be read."
He looked me up and down. Not ogling really, but with a curiousness. "Would it be rude of me to ask about your clothing?"
"It is hot in this climate," I offered, "but we suffer what we must, I am certain you understand." This time he chuckled out loud, bordering on a real laugh.
"That was not exactly my question...."
"I am curious Mr. C," I went on, cutting him off and ignoring his question as to my clothes completely, "who tends to the spiritual wellness of your flock here?"
He sucked in a breath "Well, for one, it is not my flock." he said.
I bowed my head asking his pardon "My pardon...I assumed....but assumptions, I know are usually wrong." I said.
"For two," he continued, "I would have to say I do my best to take care of their well being. Their spiritual life, I do not dabble in."
I pondered his response for a moment before going on "But still, someone must be available to absolve the sins of these girls, would you not agree?"
"Purge, I think, might fit better as a word I think sister"
"Or I should say 'should be available', and yes, penance must be an ordeal...if it is to mean anything."
"Well sister," he said sucking air through his teeth, "I will have to say that you might be heading into areas of politics there. Something I try my daa...hardest to stay away from." It was my turn to chuckle, watching him catch himself at his words. "You'd have to talk to the Mistress of the house about that, but she is away on an extended break for the time being."
"Yes," I added with a somewhat distant look in my eyes "not much better than a good flogging to really purge those sins" I said grinning.
"Well sister, you are confusing the hell out of me, but in a good way."
"Ignorance is bliss child."
"I've been thinking about my own collar, a nice high white stiff one." he said.
"Oh?" I replied, surprised that man who lives and moves through places such as this would consider a life of celibacy.
"There are plenty here with a priest fantasy. I don't fully understand it, but hey, I can't knock it either." He replied. I nodded, realizing he was talking about just a costume, and not taking the vows.
"My friend told me a priest came here one day. That he wanted to learn the art of love making, because he had fallen in love with a nun."
"Interesting"
"Sadly, it was not me" I said out loud (quite my mistake, I assure you).
"Hope he found what he was looking for. Maybe...."
"She said he left with with a confused, yet gleeful look up on his visage."
He laughed, a full out laugh this time "Your fun sister!" He said, smiling a toothy smile.
I smiled back, chuckling a little "That's me, Sister Fun with the Sisters of Service Under Correct Knowledge." He laughed. And not some wimpy courtesy laugh either, a deep raucous belly laugh. Laughed so hard he leaned to the side and nearly fell from the ledge. I grabbed his arm to help steady him, I didn't want him falling and getting a concussion.
"Sisters of SUCK, huh?" he managed after he gained a little composure, wiping a tear from laughing so hard. "Ooooh boy!" he started laughing again. "Man, I needed that laugh!"
"Don't feel ashamed of crying Mr. C," I reassured him, "even Jesus wept." I chuckled as I said it.
"Be careful with religious debates with me, " he warned.
"I am not debating anything with you, am I?" I inquired.
"I tend to be a little forward sister"
"Just two people chatting, and there is nothing wrong with being forward. On the whole, I find it much better to be forward, than backward"
"And now, I believe I get the hint of who you are thanking me for." He said out of the blue.
"Well, as long as I didn't tell you, and as long as you don't let her know that you know, I suppose I can't stop you from guessing."
"And as far as me helping out your lady friend, it was absolutely no trouble at all. She would have done the same for me had I called her for it."
"Ever the gentleman you seem to be Mr. C."
"Mostly, but not always. My emotions can run on high octane fuel at times."
"But, I can say that, I guess, because I am not one of the slave girls here."
"You would be wrong on that assumption sister."
"Which assumption would that be child?"
"I am, I strive, to be a gentleman to those equal, and who wish to be below me."
I patted his leg assuringly "That is good to hear Mr. C. A man of honor I see"
"Thank you" he said, and meant it. I could see that he was a man of honor, and that my acknowledging that fact, meant a great deal to him. Men of honor, you see, often are under appreciated. The very honor they exude, prevents them from every complaining about that little fact though.
"Well, I must be off. Take care Mr. C" I said, rising and brushing the sand from my robes. I made the sign of the Cross over Mr. C's head, and added in parting "And bless you child," I said smiling.
"It was very pleasant meeting you sister. Will this be your only stop in to say 'hi', or will be be talking again soon?"
"We may be talking again soon. I may have to make this part of my regular rounds. A den of sin it is after all." I turned, and walked back down the ramp, and out of the Den, not looking back.
And that, dear readers, is how I met the man who would one day, in the not too distant future, own this slut completely; body, heart, and soul.
