The church service was almost over. The Minister was finishing his rousing hellfire-and-damnation oratory, about the ever-presence of Satan and the temptations thereof. Greta sat on the wooden bench next to her younger brother and her parents. Her friend Lucy sat with her family a couple rows away. Lucy was three or four months older than Greta; they were both twelve years old. Funny how Lucy had changed the past few months, Greta thought. Only last summer, Lucy didn't like the church or the minister. They only went because their parents made them. Greta was still like that, but now Lucy looked at the Minister with something approaching adoration, hanging onto his every word.
Why did that happen? When did it start? Greta thought it must be something to do with the "Special Instruction" that the Minister was giving her personally. She also noticed that Lucy wasn't spending as much time with her as she used to...
But at the moment there wasn't time to think about it. They were going to sing the final hymn of the service. She opened the hymnal to the proper page, and stood up with the rest of them. They sang, "Onward Christian Soldiers, marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus going on before." There were four verses total to the hymn. She knew them all by heart; her family sung that hymn often at home. Then after a couple bible verses and a benediction, they stood up and solemnly filed out of the hall.
After church, Greta ran over to Lucy. "Hi, Lucy!"
"Hi, Greta!" Lucy responded. "Didn't you just love the Sermon today?"
"It was okay," said Greta noncommittally.
"I found it thrilling! The power, the strength, the moral forcefulness of the Minister's words!"
Greta was puzzled; to her it sounded like so much bombastic bluster, so much hot air. She said, "I'm curious. You didn't used to like it. You've changed these past months. What has it been? That personal instruction?"
"Oh yes, indeed!" she replied excitedly. "I've learned to let Jesus into my heart and soul. I've learned the Truth, the Power, the very Ecstasy of the Word! If only you could experience it, how your Soul would be transformed, too! It's quite beyond anything we ever experienced before!"
Greta didn't say anything. It sounded simply too bizarre to her.
Monday, Greta was called to the Minister's office at school. It was a parochial school, connected with the Church. The Minister was Minister of the school as well. He welcomed her into his office. "Hello, Greta. Have a seat." He sat down behind the desk. "You know why I called you to the office?"
"No, not really," she mumbled.
"Well, you know all about God and Jesus, and Satan. What we've been teaching you since you were this high." He lowered his hand almost to the floor. "You've been taught the necessity of letting Jesus into your heart, to take control of your life; the necessity of being Born Again. You've been taught the horrors of hell, and the inevitability of going there unless you do become Born Again." Greta remembered those movies that they showed her years ago, the only ones she was ever allowed to see. She always covered her eyes in horror.
He continued, "You have been surprisingly resistant to the message ---one of the few people not to have become Born Again by your age. Now, we can't make you, you have to do it of your own choice, your own free will."
He went on talking, and Greta only half-listened, until he mentioned, "Special Instruction." He said, "We would like you to take special instruction, from me personally. I have arranged it with your parents."
Greta was apprehensive; she wondered what such special instructions would entail. They seem to have effectively converted Lucy.
After about an hour, the Minister dismissed her. She said goodbye, and returned to her classroom.
That evening at dinner, her father said, "The Minister has requested to give you some personalized, private instruction. Accordingly, I have arranged for you to meet with the Minister for an hour every Tuesday evening, at 8:00. You start tomorrow night."
Greta said, "Okay." She didn't want to, but she didn't contradict her father, not when he spoke in that tone. At least that evening she could stay up later than usual.
She arrived with her parents at the church the following evening at 8:00 PM. She was wearing a new, special dress, one they had purchased just this afternoon for the instruction. The dress was made of bright red material, and extended all the way down to her ankles. The sleeves extended to her wrists. A soft thin belt tied around her waist. Her barely budding breasts produced a visible curvature of her chest.
The Minister met her and her parents at the door. He was wearing a long, flowing, minister's gown. He talked with her parents for a couple minutes, then her parents said goodbye and left.
The Minister said, "Will you come in, my dear?" The Minister lead her deep inside the church, down in the basement, to a room she had never before realized was there. The room was all red --- red carpet, red curtains covering red walls, red lamp hanging from the red ceiling. In the center of the room was a soft dais, with red silken sheets laid out on top and red pillows at one end. Near the other end of the dais were two crimson throne-like chairs, angled partly toward each other, both with soft red cushions.
The Minister led her over to the thrones, and told her to sit in one. He sat in the other. He told her about the power of the Word of God, the mysterious ways in which it is manifested in one, how Jesus can take over the body. His tone was very different from the tone he ordinarily used with people, and also very different from his fire-and-brimstone tone when preaching in church. He spoke in a deep, soothing, hypnotic, bass tone that had Greta lulling away.
After the hour was up, they went back upstairs and Greta's parents took her home.
Greta returned to the Church for more private instruction with the Minister again the next week. They talked, or rather the Minister talked to Greta, for half an hour. Then, in his deep, somber tone, he told her to go lie down on the Dais, in order to experience the full Power of Jesus. She removed her shoes and lay down. He lit the candles surrounding the Dais. As each candle lit into flame, it gave off a peculiar, soporific oder. While Greta lay on her back and watched, the Minister reached in his robes and pulled out a chain with a shiny silver cube hanging at the end. Greta's gaze was drawn to the cube; she couldn't pull her eyes away.
The Minister leaned over her and let the cube swing and sway just above her eyes. Her eyes followed the cube as it swung from one side to the other. She was vaguely aware of somber, religious music in the distance. She heard the Minister above her chanting and praying in a deep, hypnotic tone. She did not notice it when the Minister took away the cube. She was not consciously aware of anything until she heard the Minister say, "You may get up now."
She blinked her eyes, as if awaking from a long sleep, and momentarily wondered where she was. She shook her head to clear her mind. What had happened? She tried to remember, as she walked upstairs to the exit, and as she waited for her parents to pick her up. She tried to remember, but she couldn't remember anything more than vague sensations and images after she lied down on that Dais.
The next week, the Minister had her lie down immediately on the Dais. With the cube dangling in front of her eyes, she entered the trance. She held her eyes wide open, and didn't blink once. She didn't shift her gaze or blink when the cube was taken away. She was vaguely aware of the Minister chanting religious chants, and slowly moving a Scepter above her, bringing it ever so close to her body at times without actually touching her. Totally unaware of the passage of time, she started in surprise when the Minister said it was time to get up. Again, try as she might, she could not remember anything except vague impressions afterwards.
The next week, the same thing happened. She went into her trance so quickly that the Minister only had to use the cube for a minute. She stared straight up, not blinking once. She sensed with a vague secondary awareness the Scepter hovering over her body. The Scepter was thick, about three-fourths of an inch in diameter, and had a rounded bulb on the end. She felt it touch her with but the slightest touch, which nevertheless momentarily stood out in her consciousness. It touched her shoulders, one than the other. It touched her breasts. She didn't blink once when it came down and barely touched her eyeball. It touched the palm of her hands. It touched her belly. It touched her thighs, and then her knees. It touched and caressed and tickled the soles of her feet.
The following week, the Minister had her take off her dress. "You must be in the pure state of complete nudity," he said. "Don't be embarrassed now. This is a Holy Thing that is going to happen to you." Greta momentarily felt self-conscious, but she couldn't resist the command of the Minister's hypnotic tone. She pulled up her dress and lifted it over her head, and then removed her shoes and stockings, one at a time. She unclipped her training bra that she had just started wearing a couple weeks ago. Finally, she slid her panties down and removed them.
The Minister had her lay back on the Dais and spread her arms outward, her upper arms perpendicular to her body, her forearms toward the head of the Dais, the palms of her hands open upward. He had her spread her legs just a little, her knees about a foot and a half apart and pointing outward.
It took considerably longer for her to enter the trance. Apparently she had some residual self-consciousness to overcome. The Minister chanted and waved the metal Scepter over her. Greta could vaguely pick out some of the words of the chant: "...Let this young lady experience the ecstasy..." "...Let Jesus find the Entrance to her Soul..." The Scepter moved over her body, and occasionally touched down. It touched the tip of her nose, her eyeballs, the tips of her lips, the top of her Adam's Apple. Everywhere it touched, it produced a cold, tingling sensation. It briefly touched the inner part of her elbows, the palms of her hands, and her armpits. Her muscles twitched at that, but otherwise she made no response. She was much too relaxed. The Scepter briefly stroked her budding breasts and touched her nipples. It continued down to her belly, sliding over it a couple times. He gradually slid it lower...
Then the Minister shifted the Scepter down to her feet. In her remaining distant point of awareness, Greta was relieved. She was afraid that he would actually touch that Forbidden Place between her legs where her mother told her she must never touch herself, must never ever let someone even see or touch, must never even think about.
The Scepter touched each of her toes, and softly caressed her soles. Then it went upward along one leg, randomly touching and sliding. It touched both her knees, just under the kneecap and on the inner side. It slid up her inner thighs. Greta worried, it was approaching that Forbidden Place. She shifted her thighs.
The Minister took the Scepter away, and woke Greta up out of her trance. She quickly sat up, grabbed for her panties, and quickly slid them on. The Minister watched in silence as she got dressed.
She could barely look at her parents as they drove her home. She didn't say anything either. This time, she could remember enough of what happened. She wavered between two terrors, that her parents would notice that something was up, and that her parents would not notice anything. They didn't seem to notice anything.
The following evening at dinner, her father said, "The Minister has a good report on you. He says that you are making good progress in your training." Greta felt herself blush in embarrassment, and didn't reply. She couldn't believe that her father, who always used to tell whenever she even thought of something naughty, could not see through her even now.
The following week, the Minister had her undress again. More or less the same ritual happened. With Greta in her semi-conscious trance, the Minister touched her with the Scepter at various points on her body. He seemed to focus on places that elicited some kind of response: Under her arms, on her breasts, inside her thighs. He also touched her a couple times with his hands. He squeezed her knees, just under her kneecaps. It tickled horribly the way it always did, but caught up as she was in her trance, she did little more than twitch her legs.
Finally, the Scepter did invade that Forbidden Place. It slid lightly up and down over the soft folds. The cold metal tickled; she inhaled slightly and softly giggled. She instinctively arched her back and spread her legs wider, and contracted her buttocks inward. The Minister said, "Ah, this must be the place where we will find the Entrance to her Soul." He then took the Scepter from that region, and went up to tickle her breasts.
Greta came out of her trance and got dressed. She was flaming and blushing inside, but she remained as polite as possible as she informed the Minister that her mother told her never to let anyone look at or touch her there. He answered, "But of course. It was to be saved for Jesus. It was to be pure, and not to be corrupted by mortals. This was to be the Entrance to your Soul." So it was okay, Greta understood now with relief. It wasn't merely the Forbidden Place, it was the Sacred Forbidden Place. She didn't bother to wonder how a Entrance to her Soul could be the same place where she used the bathroom, how it was to be pure at the same time that it could be so dirty.
That session was almost continuously on her mind the rest of the week. She occasionally awoke from strange nightmares that left her in panic yet at the same time had some kind of pleasurable feelings. She never told anyone, and her parents didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. That was funny, she thought. Always before, they caught on immediately whenever she had some guilty secret that she was trying to keep from them.
The next week, as she was undressing, the Minister told her, "You will experience sensations quite beyond any you've felt before. You must submit yourself openly and willingly to whatever frenzy that Jesus demands, no matter what. You must give in to the Holy Spirit and let it take possession of you."
She lay down on the Dais, and entered the trance. She didn't need the Minister's silver cube any more; she did it automatically. As the Minister chanted and prayed, he tickled her with the Scepter under her arms, and then slid over to her breasts. It felt deliciously cold as the Scepter lightly touched one then the other of her tiny nipples. The Scepter slid around her breasts making the form of a figure eight, and then slowly worked its way down her belly. She shuddered in nervous anticipation as the Scepter approached her Sacred Forbidden Place. She shivered as it stroked the insides of her thighs, then giggled briefly and moaned, as the cold metal reached the Forbidden Place and slid up and down between her legs.
At first, the Scepter only touched her with the lightest contact, but the pressure gradually increased. Greta moaned and sighed. The Minister was saying, in barely concealed excitement, "It is coming! Let the Holy Spirit come to you. Let Jesus through the Entrance to your Soul." Yes, she could feel it coming! She arched her back, opening herself as wide as possible to the ecstasy of the Holy Spirit. She received a jolt of electricity as she felt the Minister's hand on her, felt his fingers spreading apart her folds. The Scepter pushed slowly into her, filling a crevice that Greta had never known before to exist in her. My, she thought in her ecstasy, there must actually be a passage there! That must really be the Entrance to her Soul!
Unfortunately the time was up for this week. The Minister withdrew the Scepter, much to her disappointment. The Minister said, "My Dear, we shall pick up where we left off next week. You shall yet experience the full power of Jesus taking over your Soul." She got dressed and went home.
Over dinner a couple nights later, Dad said, "The Minister reports that you have been making excellent progress in your instruction. He has requested that the weekly instruction period be extended to two hours. I have agreed, of course. Your instruction will start at 7:30 and end at 9:30."
Greta didn't say anything; her parents obviously didn't have an inkling what was actually happening during those sessions, and Greta hoped that it would stay that way. She hoped she didn't give anything away with her expression or manners. Even though she knew it was a Holy Experience, she instinctively felt that her parents might think it bad. She had amazing dreams in which she was overwhelmed by the Holy Spirit.
When she arrived the next week, half an hour earlier, she undressed and lay down on the Dais. She didn't bother to put herself in any trance, and the Minister made no attempt to put her in one. She was already halfway to ecstasy, in anticipation of what was to come. The Minister paid token attention to the ritual of covering and sampling her body with the Scepter, focusing mostly on her breasts, but he quickly went to the heart of the matter. As the Scepter stroked her up and down between her legs, she found herself continuously gasping for breath. She let out a soft shriek as the Minister's hands spread apart her folds and found a tiny knob that sent a jolt of electricity through her. The Minister called that the "Doorbell to her Entrance." He pushed the Scepter slowly into her. She felt it overcoming strong resistance as it plowed its way inward. She imagined it might be Satan, trying to block the Entrance to her Soul. She pressed downward, working to overcome the resistance, wanting the Scepter in as deep as possible. Occasionally, the Minister would "Ring the Doorbell," sending another jolt of electricity through her.
She felt the Holy Spirit, coming! It was almost here! Then the Minister did something unexpected. He slid the Scepter out of her. In disappointment, she felt the Holy Spirit receding. However he kept one hand massaging the Entrance and Ringing the Doorbell. He climbed onto the Dais, between her legs and let his Minister's Robe fall open. Another Scepter was dangling down from him. It was shorter but somewhat thicker than the metal Scepter he had been using before. He pressed it against her Entrance, and pushed it in. It felt warm and tantalizingly alive. The Minister arranged himself over her, supporting himself with his arms, and lowered himself on top of her. His chest and shoulders were just over Greta's face. He was gasping too, as exhausted and ecstatic as she was.
He moved his Scepter back and forth inside her. She felt the Holy Spirit possessing her. Gasping and thrashing, she impulsively threw her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his body, and tried to pull him as close unto her as possible. He was gasping and wheezing and moaning. His face was all twisted and contorted. Apparently Jesus was meant to possess both of them together.
"Let the Holy Spirit come! Can you feel it?" agonized the Minister.
"Yes, yes! It's coming!" Greta gasped. Her body writhed and undulated, in rhythm with his body.
"Let it come... however it chooses!"
"It's coming... It's coming... it's here!" Waves and spasms of sensation poured over her. She let out a final gasp and scream, and spontaneously kissed his shoulder. At the same time, he let out all is breath in one final rasping sound, and collapsed on top of her.
Nothing... For a long while, nothing. Greta was unaware of anything, incapable of any thought. Her first vague awareness was of the Minister on top of her, her arms around his shoulders, her legs around him. The minister woke up and pulled himself off her, and extracted his Scepter from her. She was surprised to see how small, soft, and limp it was now. Soggy wet, too. She was surprised to be conscious and alive now; she had expected to be totally possessed by Jesus. But then, she thought, this possession would have to be only a temporary thing. Otherwise, it would be as if she were killed.
She noticed that she was awash both her own sweat and the Minister's sweat. Oh, my, she thought. Her father would notice the sweat and smell first thing. But the Minister escorted her to a bathroom that was just off the main room. He told her to take a nice long bath.
She thought about the experience while she luxuriated in the bath. Jesus and God must really be as powerful as everyone said, if they could cause such sensations to surge through her. She pondered over it. Finally, she got up, dried herself off, wrapped the towel around herself, and returned to the room.
The Minister had apparently washed and cleaned himself off, too. He was back in the room, fully robed. He put his arm around her shoulder, subtly slid the towel off her onto the floor, and escorted her to one of the thrones. He sat down, and gestured that she sit on his lap. She did so, her legs off to one side. He put one arm around her waste, his other hand rested on her thigh. She leaned her head against his chest.
They had about fifteen minutes left of tonight's session. He talked to her about the power of Jesus in possession of the soul, and about Free Will and such. Then it was time to leave. As she got up off his lap, she turned and kissed him on the cheek. She found her clothes, and dressed herself.
On the way home, she was certain that her Dad would notice something different about her, but he didn't. Or if he did, he didn't let on.
They repeated the performance the next week, but this time without the metal Scepter. The Minister also showed her pictures of ancient saints having religious experiences --- naked bodies, arched backs, sweating contorted faces. She continued to come week after week.
She woke up one morning a few weeks later with blood on the sheets and coming between her legs. Her mother saw it, and gave her a light playful spank, and told her, "You've got the Curse. You're a woman now." Her mother brought her a bundle of Maxi-pads, and told her about the monthly event. She didn't ask, but she wondered how or why the Entrance to her Soul would do something like that. She made up her mind to ask the Minister about it next time. However, she was too caught up in the Holy Spirit, and forgot about it until she was on the way home.
The following Saturday, she found herself in the public library. She usually didn't go there, because everyone said they had bad books, but she had to go this time. She was alone, and would be alone there for the rest of the afternoon. She started looking up things, and one thing lead to another. She didn't find anything resembling her experiences under "Religion" or "Holy Spirit," but she did find something under "Love." She followed that up, and discovered new words like "sex," "orgasm," "clitoris," among many others. She found no mention of the Holy Spirit, or of Jesus in this context, except that one source described orgasm as resembling a religious experience.
She learned that what she did with the Minister was called, "Child Abuse" --- "Child Sexual Abuse," in particular, and was considered a no-no. Whatever. She didn't feel abused, but she realized that her instincts were correct all along and that people wouldn't like it if they were caught.
She also discovered the word, "Pregnancy." So now, she knew where babies came from. The idea of getting pregnant scared her silly. Carrying a big, bloated belly for nine months, and then the agonizing torture of giving birth. But she also discovered "Birth Control" and "Clinics." She decided that she probably wasn't pregnant, because she had only just gotten the curse. At least, it was sufficiently unlikely that she wouldn't worry about it any more. However, she would take steps to prevent it in the future. She recalled, vaguely, that an older girl had to leave school in shame last year. She had done something very naughty.
Who was that girl, she wondered. What was her name? Ah yes, she remembered now. Louise. She knew where she lived, too. It was not too far from here, in fact. She checked her watch. No, she didn't have enough time this afternoon, her parents were coming to pick her up soon. However, Louise would probably be at church tomorrow morning. She spent the rest of the afternoon mapping out her plan of action.
Sunday, after church, Greta left her parents and searched out Louise. She found her with her parents. Louise was fifteen years old now, and was carrying a small baby in her arms. She pulled her away, saying she wanted to talk in private. "It's important."
After they were well away, Louise asked angrily, "What do you want?"
Greta asked, "Your baby. Who's the father?"
"What business is it of yours? Why do you suddenly come here? To gloat over my misfortune?" She started to walk away.
Greta called out, "It's the Minister, isn't it?"
Louise stopped and turned around. "How did you guess?"
Greta threw out the words, "Special Private Instructions."
Louise came back to her, "So you know about that, eh? Have you been spying around? What do you want? Cash? Trying to blackmail me?"
Greta said, "You're not the only one he gave 'Private Instructions' to. There have been others. At least one of my friends." Greta paused a moment, then admitted, "Myself too. I remember how you had to leave school. You are not to blame. If anyone is, it's the Minister. You shouldn't have taken all the blame."
"I thank you for your concern," said Louise. "But it's too late for me. I urge you to get out of it before you suffer a similar fate."
"I may, I don't know yet. I really enjoy it, I don't want to give it up. I'm going to make sure I don't get pregnant myself, though."
"Good luck with it," Louise said, "And good-bye."
"Good-bye." Greta left her. She was about to return to her family, but then an idea came to her. She went back into the church, and headed downstairs. Nobody was around, and she found the Room. There was an office and two bathrooms off that Room. She searched through the office, and found a locked drawer.
She decided she didn't have enough time to try to search everything thoroughly, so she returned to her family, and they drove home. That afternoon, she told her parents she was going to visit Lucy. That was the first lie she had ever told to her parents, and she realized how much she had changed these past few months. She would never have attempted it before, and would never have gotten away with it if she did. She took some money from her money box; money she had saved from allowances and various money making chores, and babysitting. She quickly dashed off towards Lucy's house, but as soon as she rounded the block she dashed off in a different direction. She ran for a mile, until she reached a store at the local college.
She walked through the isles until she found the "family planning" section. There, she picked up a medium package of condoms, containing about twelve of them individually wrapped. She took it to a check-out counter that had no line; it was Sunday, so there were not many customers. She looked the saleslady in the eye as she put the package on the counter. The saleslady looked like a local college student. She didn't say anything, but simply rang up the sale and put the package in a bag. Greta paid and then ran off to Lucy's house. She played there for half an hour. She was thinking of bringing up the subject, but decided against it. However, Lucy did mention that she did have her private instruction on Wednesday Night.
Tuesday evening, she brought the package to the church with her. Down in the Room, she brought the package out of her purse, looked the Minister straight in the eye, and said, "Before we do anything, you must put on one of these."
The Minister looked at the package. "Where did you get these?" he asked.
"I bought them. I wanted protection. You got someone pregnant last year didn't you? Someone who had to leave school in disgrace?" The Minister looked sheepish and embarrassed. Greta continued, "Also, that song and dance about the power of Jesus, letting the Holy Spirit take possession of me, all that was just a line to seduce me, right?" The Minister said nothing. "Right?!?" she persisted. She still got no answer, so she went on. "You probably told the same story to a dozen other girls like me --- to Louise, to my best friend Lucy. Well, I suppose it's no worse than Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy, as a story to manipulate us, to make us do what you want. Well, you're not going to continue that story with me. I see right through you now.
"We are going to continue to have our good times together, every Tuesday night, in full knowledge of what we're doing. You are going to continue to ravish me on that table, but not say anything about 'the Holy Spirit' or 'Jesus.' And you are going to use a condom." She backed away, and quickly lifted her dress over her head. She quickly pulled off her shoes and stockings and panties. The Minister watched in amazement. Then she opened up his robe, and pulled it off him. He offered no resistance. His "Scepter" was getting hard. She led him to the Dais and told him to sit down. She kneeled in front of him and took hold of his scepter --- she still thought of it as that, although she now knew the real name for it --- and squeezed it and massaged it.
She ordered him to lay down on the Dais, then she climbed up and kneeled between his legs. She felt an invigorating sense of power, similar to but very different from the "Holy Spirit" taking possession of her. She looked at the rod, and squeezed and massaged it some more. Then, remembering something she had read that Saturday, lowered her head and licked it. She pulled the top of it in her mouth, and lightly ran her tongue over it and tickled it with her teeth. Finally, when she saw that he was getting too excited, and she was too excited herself, she let go, got up, opened the package, and returned with a condom. She opened the wrapping and unrolled it down over the scepter, watching closely.
Finally, she raised herself up and straddled herself over it and lowered herself onto it. She had a little trouble finding the passage in herself, but the Minister helped by spreading her folds apart and lowering her onto the scepter. After it was inside, she let herself slide down it, and then laid herself down so she rested on the Minister's stomach, with her knees on the bed on either side. She lifted her head and looked at him.
"You like it?" she asked.
They remained in more or less that position until it was time to go. They talked about random things --- everything but religion. She occasionally shifted her position to relieve occasional strained muscles, and to stimulate herself and him. The minister wanted to touch her, but she didn't let him.
Finally it was time to go. She lifted herself up and off his thing, got dressed, and retrieved the condom package. As she left the Room, she turned and blew him a kiss.
On the way home, she told Dad that the Minister wanted to see her again tomorrow evening, this time at 7:00.
The next evening, her father dropped her off at the church at 7:00. She hid next to the entrance behind a tree and waited until a car came and dropped off Lucy. The Minister let her in. Greta jumped forward and grabbed the door before it latched closed. She waited a moment, then opened it and entered, and silently followed them downstairs. Again, she caught the door to the room before it latched. She slipped a door-stop under the door, and let it almost close. She watched through the narrow opening.
She watched as Lucy took off her clothes and lay down on the Dais. She watched as the Minister mounted the end of the Dais, and played with her crotch for a few minutes. She watched as he leaned forward, and put his face up in her crotch. There didn't seem to be any nonsense about "The Holy Spirit" or "Jesus" with Lucy. Lucy gasped, giggled, and shrieked as she twisted her legs right and left and clenched her thighs about the Minister's head.
After about ten minutes, the Minister extracted his head from Lucy's legs and moved up and over Lucy.
As he was about to insert his scepter inside Lucy, Greta pulled open the door and walked in. "Hi, Lucy," she called. She tossed a condom over to the Minister and said, "Hey, you forgot to use this." She turned about, closed the door, reopened it, poked her head in, and winked. "I'll see you next Tuesday, Minister." She closed the door and walked out, ignoring the shocked, frozen faces behind her.
She called home and got Dad to come pick her up.
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