Anthea s baby 1
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The TempleChapter 16 free porn video
The judge rose and bowed. Counsel bowed back, and after the judge quitted the courtroom, Thompson began to pack his file into his litigation bag, pleased that his argument had prevailed, and that his client would collect over five million dollars from the defendant. Unless the defendant appealed. And he might appeal. Like his lawyer, he was stupid enough. A hand tugged at his robe, and he turned with an irritation that evaporated the moment he saw who was doing the tugging.
“Geeta! How did you know I’d be here today?” As usual, the young woman was the perfect image of subcontinental feminine pulchritude: tall, her hair long, shiny and ink-black; her café au lait complexion setting off her green eyes, her smile revealing perfect white teeth. She wore an expensive business suit that tastefully made the most of her hourglass figure. “I called your office and they said you were in court. I saw on the web that your firm had only one case in court today, so it was easy enough to find you. Do you have a minute? I need to talk.”
Thompson checked his cell phone. It was just going noon. “How about lunch? There’s a restaurant in the building, and service is quick. And it’s not cafeteria stuff, either; it’s a good place. My treat.” Geeta followed Thompson out of the courtroom, and after a short walk down a narrow hallway, they came to a door. It could have been a door to a closet, to all outward appearances. But when Thompson opened it for her, Geeta saw it led into a large, wood-paneled dining hall, with a ceiling that was tall and vast. One end of the hall possessed a balcony extending the entire width of the room. Geeta looked about, visibly impressed. There were a number of tables filled with diners, not a few of whom inspected Geeta with interest.
“What is this place? It’s like something out of a Harry Potter movie.”
“An apt comparison,” said Thompson as an efficient waiter instantly took them to a table. Thompson noticed and enjoyed the envious looks of his colleagues as Geeta seated herself. “We’re in what is known as the Law Society’s “Great Hall”. As far as I know, it’s only used as a restaurant now. And it’s a really good one. And most of all, it’s fast, which is great on those days when the judge only gives us forty-five minutes for lunch.” In short order they received their menus, gave their orders, and then Geeta got right to the point.
“Bernie, I need to see the Hetaera Superior. Urgently. Can you get me in to see her?” Geeta had served as a temporary hetaera both at the Cypress temple and more recently at Toronto, but always by invitation. She would receive a call from a very junior hetaera, advising her that the temple was understaffed, and that the Superior requested and required her presence. But no such request had come her way in some time. Geeta knew that as a non-hetaera, she could not simply show up at the Toronto temple uninvited, requesting an audience with the Superior. Were she to do so, the best outcome she could hope for was a sound paddling on the backside for her presumption.
Thompson tested in his mind the idea of bringing Geeta with him to the Temple. He visualized putting on the badge Alice had given him, granting him freedom of the Toronto Temple. He imagined himself showing up at the Temple entrance, Geeta in tow. And he felt the immediate, and decisive, disquiet he always felt, whenever he contemplated doing something that would displease the Goddess. Due to the gift the Goddess had given him some years earlier, he knew in advance whenever a course of action he proposed to take would not be to Her liking.
“I can’t simply bring you inside,” said Thompson. “I have the freedom of the Temple, but that freedom is not something I can extend to anyone else. It applies to me only. What I could do, is ask Penelope whether you might be granted an audience with the Superior. But I’d have to have a really good reason.” Penelope was the Temple’s second in command, and either the gateway or the obstacle to access to the Hetaera Superior, at her discretion.
“Can’t you ask the Superior yourself whether she can see me?”
“I’m afraid not. You know what temples are like; a more strictly hierarchical place has never existed. I can’t use my access to her to the Superior to breach protocol. Penelope has to decide whether whatever you have to say, is worth the Superior’s time. What do you want me to tell her?” Geeta paused, not quite knowing how to begin. Then the waiter interrupted, setting down their plates. By the time he departed, Geeta had gathered herself.
“Bernie, I think I’m in love. In fact, I know I am. That’s why I need to see the Hetaera Superior.”
“Congratulations,” said Thompson, hating the jealousy that suddenly and absurdly possessed him. He had not realized that the love he had at one time felt for Geeta had merely been dormant. The girl was almost young enough to be his daughter, a bright, beautiful treasure. But there was not, and had never been, any combination of circumstances that would have allowed Thompson to have her to himself.
“But why is this something to bring to the Superior’s attention? I’m sure she’ll be very happy for you, but is it something you must share with her?”
“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? I’m not sure, but I suspect that I’m not quite free to marry whomever I please. I have one foot in the Temple door, being an occasional, unofficial hetaera of sorts. I’ve been partially Temple-trained, and I’m subject at all times, in the Temple and out, to its rules and discipline. But because I’m not a true hetaera, I don’t actually know what all the rules are. Sometimes when I’m in the Temple, I find out about a rule for the first time when I break it, and get a whipping as a result. I can’t help thinking that if I up and married someone without the Superior’s approval, that I would be crossing a line of some kind. So before I let things go any further, before I let my emotions get a grip on me, I need to know what the rules are. Can I fall in love, and commit myself, to anyone I please? Does the Superior have a veto on my choice? Am I allowed ever to marry and have children, or must I hold myself at the ready at all times to serve at the Temple? I just don’t know how things work. And I have to know; the doubt is just killing me. Bernie, please: help me out.”
Father Mahoney got off the subway at Summerhill, directly under the Chancery office. He’d called the Chancery, requesting an immediate appointment with the Bishop, and had been annoyed that he hadn’t been able to get an appointment until today. He found his way to the waiting room outside the Bishop’s office. Mahoney was the only clergy present; apart from the receptionist, the only others appeared to be couple of lay suppliants: an elderly, disheveled woman, who ignored Mahoney’s arrival, and a young man in an expensive suit who stood up respectfully the moment Mahoney entered the room. Mahoney nodded in acknowledgement, glad that there were young folks who still had manners. The man had a monogrammed brief case with him, embossed with the trademark of one of Canada’s biggest banks; perhaps a financial adviser of some kind.
Mahoney was early for his appointment, but that was just fine with him. The alternative, being late for an appointment with Bishop Bates, was not within the realm of contemplation, Mahoney having no desire to be transferred up north to Cochrane, or even worse, Moose Factory. He liked where he was just fine. The Church of St. Simeon Stylites was very much an elevated, upper-crust parish, in the wealthy neighborhood of Rosedale. The parishioners were well-heeled, and the posting was a plumb for which the good father was profoundly grateful. While he personally could own no property, his rectory, had it been a private home, would easily have been worth multiple millions of dollars. His parishioners kept him in the latest electronic goodies, and supplied him with a late-model Mercedes for those occasions when public transport wouldn’t do.
Not that Father Mahoney had not done his best to deserve such things; he was hard-working, going above and beyond the call of duty. He had noticed, and worried over, the absence of four of his regular church goers. His inquires had been ignored, and even his letters had gone unanswered. He had gone to the Thompson home to see what was up. In the week that had passed since he had been ordered out of the Thompson residence, he had fretted over his loss of temper, over his failure to provide the young Zophia with proper guidance, and because if he’d stayed calm, Zophia might have told him what was going on with Michelle Thompson and her two daughters.
And then there was the other, even more serious loss: the disappearance of Sister Aurelia. The nun had not shown up for choir practice, and had missed mass: unheard of for her. He’d called the convent, and was put through to the Mother Superior. She did not appear to share his concern over Sister Aurelia’s disappearance, her casual negligence shocking him. Father Mahoney knew that the nun’s disappearance was somehow connected to Zophia’s, but he could not imagine how.
“The Bishop will see you now,” said the receptionist, opening the door for him.
“Bill!” said the Bishop, rising in friendly greeting. He was dressed in a simple business suit, and his office, while not shabby, was on the plain side. No sign of luxury at all.
“Your Eminence,” said Mahoney, kneeling to kiss the Bishop’s ring. The Bishop put a hand on his shoulder.
“There’s only the two of us here,” said the Bishop, “and no need for formalities, especially not from you.” Although the Bishop was very much Father Mahoney’s superior in the Catholic order, the latter was older by a couple of decades. The Bishop bade him sit on a rather worn couch, and then joined him. The receptionist came back with a tray. “Coffee?” asked the Bishop, pouring for his guest.
Father Mahoney had never really gotten a handle on Bishop Bates; affable and kind, anything but impressed with himself, yet a strict and even ruthless disciplinarian whenever the occasion required it. Mahoney accepted the coffee, and exchanged pleasantries. He could not himself raise the purpose of his visit, instead having to wait for an invitation to speak. Eventually it came.
“So tell me Bill: what brings you here today? I’m sorry I couldn’t see you earlier, even though I’m told your request was urgent.”
Father Mahoney sketched out his concerns about the Thompson family, their strange and sudden disappearance from all things Catholic, Zophia’s admission of her involvement at Aphrodite’s temple on the Toronto Islands, and lastly, and most importantly, the disappearance of Sister Aurelia.
“And when I called the convent, the Mother Superior acted like the disappearance of one of her nuns was none of her concern!”
“Well, it isn’t, actually. Not anymore,” said the Bishop, pouring more coffee. “You see, Sister Aurelia has left the faith.”
“Don’t tell me she’s taken up with a man,” gasped Mahoney, citing the most common reason a nun left the Church.
“She’s taken up with a man, alright. And not just one man, but dozens, for the woman is now a whore, serving in the whores’ temple on the Toronto Islands. For decades now we’ve had Hermes and his lawyer minions stirring up their litigation against the Church, and now we have Aphrodite turning our nuns into prostitutes. I think She did it just to make a mockery of the vow of chastity.”
“How did you find out so quickly?”
“A courtesy call from the Temple’s Superior. At least, that’s what she called it. But I think she had trouble keeping the gloating out of her voice. She “didn’t want us to be unduly worried about Aurelia’s disappearance, and wanted us to know that she was in good hands, undergoing training so as to be made fit to serve the Goddess.”
“And Michelle Thompson? And her daughters?”
“That why I think her real purpose was to gloat. She let me know about them as well, or at least, the daughters. Can you believe it? Both of them are full hetaerae, and have been for months. How old are those girls?”
“Liz is fifteen; Anna but fourteen years old!” Father Mahoney felt, and fought, the anger swelling inside him. A pause, and then he added, “Is this not a police matter now? Can’t we just file a complaint, and let the authorities take care of it? They’ve arrested enough of our priests for sex with minors; surely they’ll do the same here.”
“No,” said the Bishop. “Not a chance. The last, and probably final, time we tried that was in France in the 70’s. A police officer went to the Temple at Strasbourg to investigate a similar allegation, a fifteen-year old girl taken from her parents. He came back a few days later, or at least most of him; his right hand had been amputated.”
“How do we know the Temple did that to him?”
“It’s not certain, for the officer refused to speak about what had happened to him. But Aphrodite has a certain known repertoire of punishments. For those who show her open contempt, her practice is to remove the offending party’s fingernails, fingers, or, in the most egregious cases, the entire hand. I don’t want to be responsible for a similar incident here in Toronto.”
Not for the first time, Father Mahoney puzzled over why the Lord God would allow his priests routinely to be arrested and punished for their crimes, when Aphrodite rendered her minions immune from human interference. But he said nothing to the Bishop; he knew that this was one of the many mysteries into which no Catholic was permitted to inquire.
“Then what should we do? What can we do?”
“You needn’t concern yourself there. We’re taking countermeasures. I know that’s little comfort to you, having lost four parishioners and the services of a most promising nun, but I can assure you, we will not let this pass, not if I can help it. Send in that young man waiting outside when you see yourself out.” The Bishop rose, Father Mahoney bowed out of respect and to hide his displeasure at the abrupt termination of the interview, and exited to the waiting room outside.
“The Bishop wants to see you,” he said to the young man.
“Thank you, Father,” said the young fellow in slightly accented English. He rose and picked up his briefcase. He gave the priest a polite smile, his teeth looking all the brighter for being in a dark, African face.
“The Hetaera Superior is not in residence today,” said Penelope, when Thompson was brought into her presence. Realizing that this made Penelope the acting Superior, Thompson knelt, and kissed her hand. Penelope continued, “But she will be back late this afternoon. You may wait in the Temple, if you wish, or if you like, I can have you called when she returns.”
“Thanks,” said Thompson, “but it was you that I came to see. But I had I known that you were the acting Superior today, I would not have come here to trouble you with a request.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s a slow day. We have but few guests, and with little scheduled, the Hetaera Superior is using the opportunity to locate additional candidates for admission to the Temple. We need at least a half-dozen or so. But they are so difficult to find, and locating them is a task that the Superior cannot, unfortunately, delegate; only she can detect whether a young woman possesses the necessary qualities.” Of this Thompson was already aware; his own daughters were in the Temple only because Alice, by chance more than anything else, had briefly come into physical contact with them, and the merest touch had been sufficient for her to know that both Liz and Anna were destined to be hetaerae.
“I was fortunate enough to witness the Hetaera Superior’s initial contact with my own daughters. It would be most interesting to see the Superior at work to find more.”
“The Superior is at a local beauty contest. By going there, she is at least assured that there will be some women possessing the necessary physical requirements for admission to our Temple. But the odds are against her; she’s been to a number of such contests, and so far, she’s only found one hetaera using this method”.
“May I ask who?” said Thompson, curious.
“You may not. Now what can I do for you? Why did you wish to see me?”
Thompson summarized his lunch meeting with Geeta the previous day, and the development that brought the young girl both happiness and confusion, being in love, yet not knowing what was permitted of her, and that she begged for an audience with the Hetaera Superior so that she could learn whether she could permit herself to pursue a relationship that she wished would become permanent.
“Geeta is a sensible child. Mischievous at times, and in need of the occasional act of correction, but at her core, quite sensible. I will let the Hetaera Superior know of her request. Today, in fact, if circumstances permit. Anything else, Thompson?”
“I would like to see my daughters, if that were possible.”
“Liz is occupied at the moment. One of the few hetaerae that is taken up today. But Anna is free.” Penelope clapped her hands. A door opened, and a very junior hetaera instantly entered and knelt. “Take our friend to one of the guest rooms, and then fetch Anna.”
Alice was content as she rode the subway back downtown. The beauty pageant’s contestants had, for the most part, been presentable enough, as Alice had expected. In the brief time Alice had been in attendance, she did not get the impression that many of them possessed the necessary intelligence, let alone the appropriate personality, that rare combination of the desire to dominate, yet willingness to cheerfully submit to a superior power. But she had found one girl, and that girl was a real gem, a gem that now was accompanying Alice, destined for induction to the Temple that very day. What really pleased Alice, is how easy it had been for her to discover her latest find. Normally it would take hours to screen everyone. But she had not needed to find Mika; the girl had basically identified herself.
Alice attended the pageant as a contestant, her exceptional looks easily gaining her entry. Alice needed the close contact of a contestant so that she would be able to mingle with the other girls. She would not have been able to evaluate them up on stage; she would not have been close enough for the necessary physical touch. Alice had joined the registration line up, and then they had all been directed to the robing room, to change into revealing swimsuits for the bikini contest. Alice entered the room last, and a few of the girls looked up at her. Alice read the envy in their eyes, as they sized her up as a rival. But only one girl voiced her thoughts.
Angelica
- 29.04.2020
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