GOD'S GIFTED TALENT (READ WARNING!)

Okay, this is a bit weird. I'm not a religious person so this is something I actually dreamed about. Yeah, pretty freaky. Of course I embellished but it's still there.

If you are religious, DO NOT READ THIS! And I will NOT get into a discourse about religions with this posting. It's just a dream for Christ's sake. That said, enjoy!

GOD’S GIFTED TALENT (FUTA/F/M/ RELIGION/MILD SACRILEGE)

Fifty eight year old Mother Superior Frances Gregorian climbed the ancient stone steps to the tower. With a conditioned practice, she made the steep climb with ease. She found Sister Sarah sitting, looking out the parapet, a newspaper in her hands.

The strict Mother Superior cleared her throat loudly. Sister Sarah turned and gasped. “Oh, Mother. Sorry,” she said, ducking the paper under her stool.

“Any sign?”

“No ma’am. Nothing yet. There’s another small war going on.”

“I see. We should pray very hard tonight.”

“I agree.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing of importance.”

“Thank you Sister. Continue God’s work.” She turned and left, starting to descend the worn steps to ground level.

“Mother!”

Frances turned back a few steps down. “Yes?”

“Sister Erin is at it again.”

“Let Sister Philipa know I will be in THE HOLY ROOM. I need to know when the Bishop arrives in case I spend more time than normal.”

“Yes Mother.”

Suppressing a growl, Frances trotted down the curving steps and out into the large, walled garden area.

“SISTER ERIN!” she shouted out.

Pert, tiny, skinny, redheaded Sister Erin was caught inhaling Sister Helen’s thirteen inches, hiding underneath the white silken robes the Sisters wore outdoors.

With a gasp, Sister Helen pulled her thick pipe from the newest initiate of the order, scampering away down the long row of growing vegetables.

Erin frowned, stood and wiped her moist mouth.

“Yes Mother Superior?”

“The Bishop HIMSELF is arriving today. I don’t want any of our sacred rights being displayed for outsiders unless I ORDER it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough. Prepare yourself for the Wall.”

Sister Erin had to stifle a broad smile. “Y-yes Mother.” She scurried off, lifting her silken gown up so as not to trip on it, her leather sandals slapping the aged stone as she went inside the nunnery. She past several naked (but for skull caps) sisters doing housework around inside. This sight only made her young body jump a notch in sexual excitement. Too many tits and dicks!

The five foot two inch woman vaulted up the steps toward her cell, practically tearing off her gown on the way. Though hair was shaved from all parts of the pure body, excepting eyebrows, she felt her stubbly groin and giggled.

In her cell that she shared with Sister Griselda, she poured cold water into the washing bowl carved into the floor. Grabbing the well honed straight razor (thanks to Sister Beatrice),